Chapter 7
That same afternoon, Jane found her steps turning in the direction of Alexander's tiny apartment, as she wandered over the broad shoreline. She had been more or less on her own since her arrival -- barring Frederick's sudden attack of lust, of course -- and both Madeleine and her husband had been rather reclusive in regard to her. Lacking any other explanation, Jane supposed that they were both a bit embarrassed by the surprise she had shown at Frederick's heavy drinking. Evidently, Madeleine had not prepared Frederick for the fact of Jane's innocence about his drinking, and now they were, within the limits of courtesy, keeping to themselves.
As she neared the small apartment, which bulged like some odd growth from the main house, Jane was oddly relieved at Alexander's presence here. It lent an air of friendliness to the embarrassed silence which permeated the Ashleys' club. As she thought of Alexander, and of what had happened in the jungle, it seemed to her that it had not really happened. And yet it had -- the sore, delightfully painful fact asserted itself every time Jane moved her legs. God, what a man he was. No wonder the girls on the island pursued him so frantically.
Jane put her hand on the door of Alexander's apartment, and knocked softly, three times. At first, she didn't think that anyone was there. As the silence eased onward, amid the tropical sun and breeze, Jane began to feel a bit foolish standing by the door of his room. Almost, she reflected to herself with amusement, like a concubine.
And then all at once the door opened, and there was Alexander. He was standing in a pair of light summer slacks, with a loose, flowing, short-sleeved shirt. The slacks were tan, and the shirt was bright yellow, contrasting brightly with Alexander's ebony-hued arms and face. The muscles on his forearms stood out, rigid and firm, and seemed to dance in the dim light as he opened the door, his hand on the knob.
"Yes?" he said, blinking at Jane appraisingly. Evidently, he had been taking a nap. Jane felt a flurry of apprehension in her stomach.
"I... " she began, and then halted abruptly. "Well, I... "
"Yes? 'What is it?" Jane was in an agony of embarrassment.
"Well, I just... " she began again, and then ground to a halt.
Alexander's eyes gleamed with amusement suddenly.
"I'll tell you one thing," he said softly. "If you don't come in out of the hot sun you'll melt in a hurry."
Jane nodded her head gratefully, and quickly stepped inside, feeling at once the coolness of the small apartment.
"Have a seat," Alexander said, indicating an over-stuffed chair by the wall.
As Jane studied the place, she noticed that it was furnished with male simplicity -- a bed, two chairs, a small writing table, and hard wooden floor with no rug anywhere to be seen. Indeed, it was an almost Spartan simplicity, and bespoke an occupant of great severity, and great strength of character.
Jane noticed that she was sitting in the softest chair in the small room. Directly adjoining the room was a small bathroom and shower.
"Well," Jane said, breathing a great sigh of relief, "it's certainly nice to get out from under that blistering sun."
Alexander walked to the bed, and sat down lightly on its edge, looking at her closely, his expression intent, his eyes shining in the dim light. He was less than six feet away from her, and Jane was overcome by his size. His shoulders seemed to reach the ceiling.
"Is there anything in particular that you wanted?" he growled, his eyebrows raising slightly.
It was, Jane noted, a mock gruffness, and had no hint of real severity in it.
"Well, I... " Jane began, and stammered to a halt, completely mesmerized by Alexander's stare. The silence in the room was unbearable, and still he refused to say a thing. As their eyes met and neither broke the look, both felt that something odd, something beyond the physical attraction, was happening to them.
After what seemed an eternity, Alexander finally spoke: "Do you want love?"
So simple, and yet so elegant, was the question, that Jane was unable to respond for a moment. At last, she opened her mouth to speak. To her extreme embarrassment she could not form words, and could only move her lips. Finally, she was able to croak out one word: "Yes."
And then, like a rushing torrent, the reply came, and was, indeed, an expression of how very much Jane wanted to give herself: "Yes... yes... yes... yes... yes ..." Over and over, like a mystic chant, the word came forth from Jane's swollen, half-parted lips. She closed her eyes, and continued to say the word, as though it were a chant of magic powers.
All at once, her mouth was stopped by Alexander's, and she continued to nod her head, kissing him deeply as he loomed over her. She swayed to and fro, her eyes shut, her head uplifted, her lovely hair falling about her shoulders in a soft cascade, tumbling slowly in the sunlight.
And then Alexander's huge black fist closed on the honeyed yellow hair, pulling Jane's head back slowly, so that her long, slender throat was exposed.
With a tiny, soft moan, she felt his mouth cover her neck, and his lips slide down the soft, pale flesh of her throat.
With a sudden, incredibly powerful movement, Alexander picked the blond, well-proportioned young white woman up, literally lifting her off the chair and throwing her on the bed.
Jane landed with a bounce, her soft, yellow silken dress flying up, revealing long, lovely legs. The dress seemed to float downward in the heavy air, and before the hem of the dress hit her lovely knees, Jane was feeling sensations of another sort.
She shut her eyes and groaned, as Alexander's hands traveled the length of smooth calf, pretty knees, and warm, moist thighs.
"Ohhhh," she sighed, her legs spreading apart slowly, her knees coming up, as the dress slid down to her hips. The large, broad hands swept over Jane's hot, inner thighs, as she wiggled her hips wildly. She felt the bare coolness of her womanhood as it was exposed to the air, and felt also the hard, rubbing grasp of Alexander's fingers as he drew the filmy under-things away, exposing the bushy mat of warm, soft fleece.
"Oh, Alexander," Jane "sobbed, as suddenly, she felt him grip her ankles. Kneeling before her on the bed, Alexander widened the gap between Jane's smooth, white thighs, drawing her pretty ankles over him, one on each shoulder. And now, suddenly, the bend in Jane's knees was resting on the broad, powerful black shoulders, as Alexander swooped downward, toward Jane's moist, quivering center.
Her mouth went open as she felt the strong, smooth lips go to her molten womanhood. Jane shifted her legs, opening herself wildly, frantically, to the seeking mouth.
Like a bolt of flame, she felt the tongue slide through her waiting passage, long and wet and warm.
"Ohhhhh yes!" Jane moaned, as a long, hard shudder went through her lithe, attractive form. She felt raw, raunchy, wanted. Slowly, she began to wiggle her hips, in rhythm with Alexander's working mouth and strong, probing neck. As his caresses became stronger, wetter, and more forceful, Jane's abandon increased. She reached forward, grasping him by the back of the head and drawing him still closer, pulling at the large, pleasure-giving head of Alexander, her moist center seeking his mouth like a soft flower spreading itself to a large, brawny bumble bee.
At last, Jane could contain herself no longer.
"Oh please, Alexander," she babbled, her eyes shut tightly, "do it with me the right way, please."
Alexander, with a single movement, undid Jane's dress and drew it over her head, leaving her completely naked on the bed. At the same time, he was wiggling out of the slacks, unbuttoning the shirt and kicking off his jockey underwear. Jane blinked, a look of utter peace coming over her face.
Alexander was splayed before her on the rumpled 'sheets, filling half the bed, that marvelous limber thing that she loved probing the air before him.
Fascinated, Jane watched as the huge, ponderous organ swayed to and fro, like a great prehistoric animal seeking its prey. She watched in silence as the massive erection grew, and stiffened, and lengthened, expanding powerfully beneath her gaze.
At last, with a tiny whimper, Jane swept forward, taking the hard, rigid manhood in her mouth and loving it with her tongue, lips and teeth. Alexander groaned out loud, as he felt the sharp, sweet bite of the teeth, his face contracting into an expression of agonized pleasure.
"Oh yes, Jane... do it," he groaned, his hip's pistoning slowly in time to Jane's bobbing blond head.
Her eyes closed, Jane could feel only the massive, rigid mouthful which seemed to encompass her whole being. She moaned softly, from the back of her throat, as she sought to take Alexander still further into her. She felt his tip strike the back of her throat, and she gagged slightly, her mouth working frantically.
Suddenly, his whole body stiffened in an agonized movement of buttocks and legs, his mouth dropping open as he let out a loud, full bellow.
Gratefully, Jane felt the warm, copious spending, the fluid washing down her throat in a thick, rich balm of love. Wanting to do it right for him, her heart pounding, Jane sucked furiously at the long, stiffened organ, her eyes shut tightly, her face intent. She worked the length of the thick, hard blackness, 'swallowing furiously.
Alexander moved his hips once, twice, and Jane felt as though she would drown if he did not stop. The long, gliding movements slowed gradually, and Jane, tears streaming down her face, her blond hair tangled and in disarray, embraced Alexander with both arms, her hands finding his buttocks as she drew him to her.
"Oh Alexander, I love you so," she sobbed, not knowing the full meaning of what she was saying, unconscious even of her own deepest feelings.
Slowly, like a great ship sinking, Alexander reclined onto his back, his long, wet, rigid manhood probing the air lustily.
Obediently, Jane swept over his long, heavily muscled form, her hungry mouth seeking every crevice. She kissed his lower legs, his thighs, the hairy insides of the thighs, and finally hips and buttocks, her mouth hungry, seeking. Each kiss was a caress.
Alexander closed his eyes, feeling only the gently lapping tongue and soft lips, his thighs steamy and moist. Soon, the tongue was making its gentle, probing way along his inner thighs. He leaned his head forward, looking down the length of his chest at Jane. She was bent over his loins, her mouth working hungrily, her soft hair spread like sunlight over his black, thick stomach.
"Oh yes, sugar," he groaned, spreading his powerful, thick legs, their expanse black and hairy, with the blond, white woman at his loins. He gripped the sheets to keep from crying out.
Jane was working busily, her mouth at his huge, swollen balls. She licked hungrily, taking first one and then the other into her mouth, and sucking gently. At the gentle pressure, she heard him groan out loud, and was filled with an odd, female delight: she was giving her man pleasure. More than that -- she was driving him out of his mind.
Taking the long, limber erection into her mouth, Jane sucked lustily, dragging the last full measure of good, hot masculine butter from her man.
She sighed, covering his belly with kisses. She laid her head on his lower abdomen, closed her eyes, and smiled. She was at peace.
An hour later, to Jane's delight, Alexander suggested that they take a trip to the beach for a swim.
Piling out of the tiny apartment, Jane fetched her suit from the house, and together they made a run for the water. As she ran, Jane took in great lungsful of the rich, warm air, her legs long and tawny in the skimpy suit. As she neared the water, Jane could feel the sunlight on her face and arms, and her hair rushed in the warm breeze. Her hair spread out behind her, in long streamers, and blew in the wind like cotton candy at the county fair.
Jane closed her eyes, and laughed out loud, her laughter lost in the rushing wind. And beside her was the tall, lithe, broad-shouldered Alexander. She caught a glimpse of him as he ran, and noted that he looked like a huge, black cat running across the yellow sand. Never in her life had she felt so young, and so alive.
As she went skidding into the water, Jane felt the smooth wetness envelop her, lapping first around her thighs, then around her belly, and finally around her neck.
Her head above water, Jane could see that Alexander was still at chest-level, his muscular body surging forward as he left his feet, cutting the water smoothly.
Jane watched in fascination. He was, she could tell, an excellent swimmer -- much better than she was. His body, black and lithe and beautiful, seemed to move effortlessly through the water, as though propelled by some mysterious force. Alexander knew how to use the water to his advantage, and not work against it. That, plus his incredible strength, made Alexander a surpassingly beautiful sight.
"He swims like a crocodile," she muttered to herself as she watched him, her lips slightly parted.
As he turned, Alexander beckoned to Jane, who shook her head sorrowfully.
"I can't," she yelled, "it's much too deep where you are!"
Alexander laughed, shaking his head, and began to swim forward, toward Jane. At first, she thought that he hadn't heard her. Then, it became hideously apparent that Alexander had heard her, all too well! He was swimming toward her, a wicked gleam in his eye. Terrified, as she finally realized what was on his mind, Jane began to back away suddenly, her hands flailing the water frantically as she back-paddled.
"No! No... " Jane breathed, as she watched his approach.
All at once, in one startling moment, he was upon her.
Jane struggled briefly, and then felt herself being lifted, borne on the water. Her worst fears were realized.
She was being carried out to seal Struggling frantically, Jane was gulping for air, her throat constricting with fear.
Alexander calmed her struggles with a quick, deft movement of his arms.
"Easy," he said, "you're all right. just relax and enjoy the ride."
Jane did relax, and found that she was being carried through the water by Alexander. Never in her life had she encountered someone as strong as this man. He was unbelievable! Jane was traveling through the water in an arc, borne by the man beneath her, her hair wet against her neck and chest. She watched the shoreline as it disappeared, and noticed that the house was disappearing behind a long line of trees. She was being carried along the coast-line, to some destination.
"Alex... Alexander," Jane gasped, noticing how far the shore was now, and how cold the water was becoming.
"Relax," Alexander said, his voice deep and soothing. "We're going to a favorite place of mine."
Jane tried to paddle a bit, but soon gave it up: he was definitely in command of this expedition.
After a time, Alexander began to paddle toward shore, but it was an unfamiliar stretch of beach. Unlike the shoreline near the Ashleys' club, this shore was overgrown with brush, and wild looking. Trees lined the shore, and it looked as though there had been no people there for a long, long time.
"Are you surer Jane gasped, her chin just above the water.
Alexander nodded, and continued to swim for shore.
As they neared the beach, Jane put her feet clown on the sandy bottom, feeling the soft, silty mud on her bare skin. She began to wade to shore, and was guided by Alexander's strong hands around her waist.
Walking over the sand, she saw a strip of grass just beyond the shoreline, and it was there that she guided her steps, with Alexander following close behind.
As she reached the grass, she sat down quickly, soaked, and dripping onto the ground, the water running from her hair in long runnels. She squeezed her hair into a knot, wringing out the sea water, as Alexander, also dripping, knelt beside her.
He put his warm, firm hands on her shoulders, and Jane shivered slightly, closing her eyes.
"It's so -- so cold," she murmured, as a sudden chill went through her lithe, supple form.
Alexander chuckled softly.
"It's the shock of coming out of the water so quickly," he said. "Here. I'll take it away."
And with that, Alexander did indeed proceed to take it away. His warm, firm hands went over the back of Jane's neck, making her shiver slightly, and proceeded down her back. Stroking and rubbing, the hands traveled over Jane's stomach, thighs and legs, making her shudder as new warmth came into her. She closed her eyes as the hands traveled over her powerfully, bringing her to the ground and running the full length of her body.
Stretched upon the grass, the cool breeze from the ocean washing over her, Jane glanced past Alexander at the late-afternoon sunlight. She stirred, and rose up, looking at Alexander dourly.
"Alexander," she said, "we're going to have to be getting back. We should have gotten an earlier start."
With that, Jane rose, and began to shake out her hair.
Uttering an outraged cry, Alexander rose beside her, pushing her down, not too gently, onto the soft grass. Jane looked up at him for a moment, her mouth dropping open slightly. He towered over her like a colossus, his expression angry, outraged, and not to be argued with.
"I didn't swim all this way, with you on my back, to have you go scampering off at a moment's notice, lady. So just stay where you are."
Jane stayed where she was.
Alexander stood over her for a moment, looking down at her menacingly.
"But the Ashleys will think I've... " she began.
"Fuck the Ashleys. The hell with the Ashleys. They'll think you're safe, with me."
Jane's eyes widened.
"You mean... " she began, and closed her mouth abruptly.
"I mean," Alexander said forcefully, "that Madeleine has known about this ever since you arrived here."
Jane's face reddened slightly, and she blinked her eyes angrily.
"By 'this,' I suppose you mean 'us,' " she drawled, her voice loaded with sarcasm.
"That's exactly what I mean."
Jane bit her lip angrily.
"Alexander," she said, "I have never been so humiliated in my life. You mean that Madeleine knew all along, and said nothing?"
"Why should she?" Alexander said cruelly. "I perform this service for all her guests!"
With a tiny cry of rage, Jane rose from the ground, and started for Alexander, her nails red and clawing.
Alexander shoved her down, and looked at her, his eyes level, dangerous. All at once, Jane was afraid.
"I said you were one of the rest -- I didn't say that you were like the rest," he said slowly.
"Oh, go to hell!" Jane sneered.
Reaching down, Alexander hit Jane across the face, hard, sending her swinging away from his out-stretched hand, her hair flying.
"Don't you ever say that to me again," he said, hissing it between his teeth, staring down at the woman who stared back at him defiantly.
And suddenly Alexander was On the grass also, beside Jane, his hands not smooth and caressing any longer, but rough and demanding.
"No... no don't!" Jane pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears of rage. She reached out, slapping him sharply on the cheek. She slapped him with the other hand, and let out a tiny, angry cry.
Alexander laughed harshly, and threw Jane onto the grass roughly, his hands quickly stripping her of the flimsy bathing suit.
All at once, he was over her, his body cruel, demanding. Jane struggled violently, kicking and flailing with arms and legs, sobbing wildly, completely naked.
"You... bastard!" she gasped, gripping his powerful wrists and wrenching herself around, so that he had to use both arms to pin her shoulders to the grass.
"You dirty... filthy, black -- " she gasped, kicking violently outward.
"You... OH!... OH NO!... OOOOOH AAAAAAGH!" Jane shrieked loudly as Alexander thrust himself brutally between her legs, slamming himself into her with a loud THUD.
Pinned and gasping for breath, Jane let out little curses as she tried to close her legs.
But he was too strong for her. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, Jane felt her thighs opened under his powerful grip, until she was splayed wide, cursing and spitting, her hair in her face. Like a wildcat, Jane fought the muscular black man who ranged over her like a rampant lion.
The struggle was all too brief. With one single, forceful shove, Alexander drove himself to the hilt into the blond white woman beneath him. She let out another piercing shriek, as the form which towered over her took complete possession.
Faster and faster, Alexander drove himself into the unwilling woman, and, in one shattering moment, he climaxed within her, riding her roughly, like a stallion rides a mare, his hands full of her wet, soft hair.
At last, he came to a stop, spending into the suppliant girl who shivered beneath him, her eyes shut.
He settled himself onto her, plunging deeply and forcefully, so that she could not mistake his mood.
Finally, gathering her in his arms, he caressed her softly, running his hands through her hair once, twice, and then flattening her on the grass.
"You... bastard... " she breathed, her eyes half shut, her mouth swollen with his kisses. Her face contorted into an expression of pain as he drove into her once more, then she relaxed as he withdrew and lay on the grass beside her.
"Well," she said, her eyes shut, "I suppose you think you proved your point."
"You're damned right I did, lady!"
Jane was silent for a moment, and then she rose up "suddenly, slapping Alexander, hard, on the face. She subsided, closing her mouth and shutting her eyes.
"Feel better?" he asked, resting his head on his crossed arms and looking at the sky.
"You bet I do," Jane said, her features knit into an angry grimace.
There was a long "silence between the two, the washing of the surf the only sound in the odd, still restlessness of late afternoon.
Finally, Alexander spokes
"I wonder how you'd behave if my skin were white."
Jane looked at him quickly.
"Alexander, that has nothing to do with it," she said decisively, her hardness of expression vanishing as she thought of the events of the last fifteen minutes.
"Don't tell me about it," he said, his weight shifting on the grass as he looked at the white woman beside him.
"I won't tell you a thing," Jane said, looking away from him and wetting her lips with her tongue.
There was another silence, this time filled with an odd tension. As the moments dragged on, Jane felt as though she were being drawn apart, piece by piece. Finally, she spoke: "I just don't see how you can take the attitude you have, when I've done nothing to... "
"The hell you haven't," Alexander said.
"But I haven't," Jane protested.
Alexander looked at her coolly, his eyes reflecting the few white clouds that were to be seen in the blue Haitian sky.
"No, you haven't. Nor have all the other rich, "spoiled white women who come here with their husbands. But they think I'm a beach boy, and they try to use me accordingly. They never say anything."
Sensing the depth of bitterness behind his words, Jane instinctively reached for his hand, which he withdrew.
"I don't see why you have to be so childish about this, really," she protested, blinking back angry tears.
As though struck by a hot iron, Alexander sat bolt upright, and stared down at Jane menacingly.
"I was born in a shanty not five miles from where we're sitting. The only thing I can remember about my childhood is being hungry. When I was eight years old, I found out pretty fast one day that I was black. A white tourist spat on me while I was trying to sell him a newspaper."
Jane listened in silence, as Alexander continued, his voice low, almost casual in its aloofness:
"After that, I smartened up in a hurry. Cheated the tourists any way I could."
Jane stiffened. She had, for a moment, a glimpse of bow she must have looked in these days, seen through Alexander's eyes. She shuddered.
"Alexander, I never meant to... I mean, I didn't "Alexander waved her off.
"Yes, I know you didn't. But that's the way it worked out. That's the way it always works out. But you didn't let me finish."
Jane looked at him for a moment, and pursed her lips. She had committed no crime, she told herself silently, as she watched Alexander begin to speak.
"As I was saying, the tourists were my objective. I used them in many different ways. When I got a bit older, I learned to use the white women -- just as they sought to use me. You can play a woman like a guitar. It's simple, really -- just take care to never mean anything you say. That's the key to it."
Jane, to her embarrassment, felt tears well up in her eyes as she beard him speak.
"And of course, that's all I mean to you, too, isn't it?"
Alexander frowned, and shook his head slowly.
"No," he said, "that's not all you mean to me."
Jane gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Do you expect me to believe that, after what you've just told me?"
"Yes," he said, "I do expect you to believe it."
Jane looked at him for a moment, and suddenly, oddly, she did believe him! In spite of all that she knew, about him and about herself, she really did believe that he was telling her the truth. There was that odd, magnetic attraction which was between them, a tangible presence. She could tell that Alexander felt it, too, Low the way he acted toward her.
Acting out of that attraction -- that terrible, all-pervading magnetism which drew them together, and would not release them -- Alexander reached for Jane's arm, and drew her to him.
"Oh no, no please," Jane whispered, shaking her head.
Alexander drew her to him gently, and kissed her on the mouth, crushing her against him so that she groaned.
Jane shut her eyes, and abandoned herself to the searching, caressing hands. "Now I'm going to fuck you again, lady. And after that, again and again. I'm going to fuck you all afternoon, until you beg me never to stop fucking you, until you can't live a day for the rest of your life without my fucking!"
Much later, the sun down and a warm, tropical night covering the small glen and flat, smooth seashore, Alexander planted a long, lingering kiss on Jane's vague, passion-swollen mouth.
They had dressed, and Alexander had built a small fire, which flickered brightly in the darkness. Jane drew closer to the fire, and shivered slightly.
"It's odd how cool the nights are, considering the days," she said softly.
"Yes," he said, "this fire will help. It's only a short walk back to the house, anyway."
"Alexander?"
The black man looked up, the light shining in his eyes, two flames that darted out of his face at Jane, who stared at him in fascination.
"Yes?"
Jane cleared her throat softly, as though unsure of how to proceed.
"Do you remember what I said to you this afternoon, in your apartment?"
Alexander's face was blank for a moment, and then it changed slightly in recognition.
"You mean about loving me?"
"Yes," Jane said, "that's exactly what I mean. I want you to know that I meant every word of it."
Alexander said nothing, and remained an ebony statue, outlined by the firelight, reclining against the soft grass, propped on an elbow. He looked at Jane appraisingly.
"I think I love you, too," he said finally.
With a sudden, angry gesture, he threw a piece of wood into the fire.
"What can I do about it, though?" he said, his voice rasping with anger. "I can't change this skin, even if I wanted to -- which I don't. And you can't change what and who -- you are."
Jane smiled, looking slightly puzzled.
"And what am I, then?" she asked suddenly.
Alexander gave an angry toss of his head.
"You are a married woman, with children. You are a rich American woman, on a holiday in the Caribbean. That's what you are."
Alexander's voice was deep, mellow, and persuasive. It continued:
"And that's what you'll remain."
Jane shook her head, her expression full of amusement.
"I'm not rich," she said, patting the grass with the flat of her right hand.
Alexander laughed out loud.
'"To me, any American is rich. Compared to what we have, you are all millionaires."
"That may be, but what does it have to do with us?" she asked.
Alexander looked at her across the fire, his gaze unblinking.
"You are being evasive. You know very well that there could never be anything of any lasting value between us," he said. "Because my skin is black, and yours is white."
Jane frowned, and clenched her fists.
"I can't accept that," she said softly.
"You'll have to. That's the way things are. Now get some rest, and we'll be on our way."
Jane reclined on the grass, but kept her eyes open. They were wide, unblinking.
"I'll rest," she said, talking across the fire to the long, rugged shape of Alexander, "but I won't accept what you said."
Alexander did not reply.
As she looked upward, seeing the myriad stars which swept across the black face of the night, tiny points of cold, icy light, Jane was chilled once more, and not by the night air. She was chilled by the fact that she knew, deep within herself, that everything that Alexander had said was true.
She would, she decided, find a way to get around that fact. She would not, if it was humanly possible, surrender him, and what was developing between them now, to the grim clutches of "reality." She simply would not.
"Alexander?" she whispered.
"Hm?"
"I'm going to be staying here longer than two weeks. Do you think Madeleine would object?"
There was a pause.
"No, probably not. You've seen the way things are between her and her husband. She'd probably like the company."
"Would you tell her, Alexander?"
"Be glad to," came the sleepy reply.
Jane smiled. She had, at least, driven a salient into this terrible enemy -- the modem world.
She rolled onto her side, and closed her eyes. In a moment, she was asleep.