When she did look at me, with what I was afraid was some perception, I felt I would shrivel up. For the first time I felt that someone had seen me as an impostor, a fake, as not being what I seemed. The game was up, the pretense was over.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked.

“Leo Raphael Adams.”

She snorted. “Arty, bohemian parents, eh?”

“I suppose so.”

“I probably knew them.”

“You didn’t.”

“What did they do?”

“Lots of things.”

“Lots of things, eh?”

“They moved around a lot.”

“Good for them,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

“Work here for a bit,” I replied. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“I should hope so. But don’t pretend to take what I say literally, Leo, when you know I mean ‘in life.’”

“In life? I don’t know,” I said genuinely. “I’ve no idea. Why do I have to ‘do’ anything?”

She imitated me. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t give a shit.”

I shaded my eyes, as if from the sun. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

“Your blank face.”

I said, “Is it blank? I’ve looked at it a lot and—”

“I can imagine, dear.”

“I’ve never thought of it as blank.”

“Is there one intelligent thought in there—something that will make me think, ‘I haven’t heard that before’? I must have forgotten,” she went on, “that conversation isn’t a male art.”

There was a lot I did want to say, but if I started on at her I wouldn’t know what it was like to be young.

I said, “You want me to leave.”

“Only if you want to.” She started to giggle. “We don’t usually have men working here, though there’s no rule against it. I may be an old-style sixties feminist, and the self-esteem of women in a male world may be of interest, but it wasn’t my intention to set up a nunnery. Your porky prick”—she looked directly at my crotch—“will certainly put the cat among the pigeons. I think that will amuse me. You can stay … for a bit.”

“Thank you.”

Patricia went to the window, leaned out, and yelled into the square.

“Alicia!” she called. “Alicia!” Almost immediately, a girl appeared. “Take him away,” she said. “He’s working here at the moment. Give him something to do!”

As I walked back, I was aware of someone beside me, as insubstantial and insistent as a shadow.

“I think I’ll get out of here,” I said.

“Is that what you normally do—run?”

“If I’m feeling sensible.”

“Don’t start getting sensible.”

I said, “Something about me seemed to enrage her.”

“You take it personally?”

“I’ve decided to.”

“Why?”

“It made me wonder what sort of power I might have over her.”

“You’ll never have any power over her.”