She whirled and glared.
"Pollony's a bug on opera. Tell them how you like opera, kid."
She glared. The last time Lukia and Ferren had been here he had done
this, and the time before. Didn't he have any imagination?
"Tell them, kid."
Fool! Didn't he know they were laughing at him?
She wanted to tear loose from her whole life. It was trivial. It was
everyday. It was gossip and collections and stupid people. She had
to tear loose or she would go on and on, all her life, being nothing
but--herself.
She was too good for that.
She was too good for Brendel. He had tricked her and turned into a
fattening fool. It was stupid to stay with him.
"Aw, come on, kid."
She drew herself up very straight and imagined she must look imposing.
"I'll ask you all to leave," she said calmly.
Gone were the smiles.
"I'm closing my grid to public access. I'll ask you to leave
immediately." The words came out stiffly and precisely. She imagined
she must already be more than just herself.
"What the hell!"
"Brendel, you may come back when I am gone. I shall not return." She
smiled, remotely. "I'm tired of punching your food and going collecting
and quarreling and being hit around."
"I never hit you hard!" he said indignantly.