“We’re going home,” Miriam said, her voice rippling.

“We are?” Leo’s eyes flickered toward Paul.

“I’m in love,” Miriam shouted. She raced back to the bed, threw herself at Paul, kissed him hard, then flounced back on the bed, pulling him with her. She said, “He’s the best lover in the world.” Then she was convulsed with laughter, peeking out from beside his big chest at Sarah and Leo. “Am I being naughty?” she chirped.

“Naughty is not the word,” Sarah purred.

“What do I do?” Leo asked.

Paul said, “I think we fell in love.”

Sarah suddenly smiled. “I’m so glad.” Then she said to Miriam, “Miri, it’s four. Can I let the staff go?”

“Is the house clear?”

“Ready for the nighthawks.”

Miriam lay back in his lap, her hands folded behind her head. “Leo, tell Luis to get the car ready.” She gazed up at Paul. “I’m bringin’ my baby back home.”

The two women went out without a word.

“They seem kind of upset.”

“Pets don’t like surprises.”

“Am I a pet?”

“You, my dear, are a great big beautiful man!”

They got dressed and went out of the little room, then through the kitchen to the rear of the club. The Bentley limousine he’d seen on Houston Street stood there gleaming in the predawn glow.

He got in, settling into the plush cushions.

“Want a drink?” Miriam asked brightly.

Sarah and Leo came in.

“You know what I’d like? Have you got a good cigar? After lovemaking like that, nothing in the world would be as nice as a really fine cigar.”

Leo grunted with barely concealed disgust.

“We have some Cohiba Piramides in the club,” Sarah said in a dull voice. “But it’s awfully confined for you to smoke a cigar here.”

“Luis,” Miriam called, “go back in and get my lover some cigars.”

Luis brought them out and held open the humidor.

“I was looking for a Macanudo, maybe,” Paul said.

“Cohibas are a bit better,” Leo replied, unable to conceal a sneer.

“We’ll all smoke,” Miriam snapped, handing cigars to Sarah and Leo. “Self-defense, Sarah! Let me get my hand grenade—Paul says my lighter is dangerous, did I tell you? Hadn’t that ever occurred to you, Sarah?”

“I’m sorry, Miri, it hadn’t.”

“Well, he’s going to get me a new one. He says we wouldn’t want my pretty face to get burned, would we?” She cut and lit a cigar and handed it to Paul.

Paul took a drag of a smoke that was hard but incredibly rich, and he knew that it was true, that this cigar was better than a Macanudo. Way better, in fact.

Miriam offered one to Sarah, who waved it away. She pressed it on her.

“Look,” Sarah said, “I don’t want to!”

“Smoke!”