I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my toes. It had been one
hell of a weird day. I had had a woman ask me what time it was two
minutes after making love to her, and now a girl had _thanked_ me for
giving her the sort of perverse thrills she craved. The ping-pong
paddle lay on the floor. I scowled at it.
Harriet opened her eyes. They were wet with tears, tears of mingled
pleasure and pain. I got up, found a pack of cigarettes on her
dresser, took one out and lit it up.