And here we go. Say it out loud. Acknowledge it. When you pretend it’s something else, you give ground. Since the death of his wife, Cosmatos has become a very sophisticated, very highbrow fascist. It’s one of the reasons we don’t see each other very much: I can’t stand it. It’s like looking at a man cutting his face with a knife. The Old Girl would have been furious with him. Cosmatos! For God’s sake. Take up with some floozy. Really—find a young, foolish PhD in anthropology who thinks frequent contact with your penis will teach her about religious ecstasy and the cult of the twice-born. Flaunt her at parties and outrage our family. Ideally a Dutch woman who speaks frankly about fellatio. That is a perfectly respectable folly for an old, childless man whose wife is dead. But this...not this. It is beneath you.