He wakes beside Alyce Ardell. His mouth tastes sour. He has no memory of how he came to be with her, or of what they might have done together. It cannot have been much, he supposes, because he is still dressed in his underwear.
Alyce Ardell is smoking a cigarette. Alyce Ardell is not looking at him. Alyce Ardell is staring at a patch of moisture on the wall.
You smell bad, says Alyce Ardell.
She passes the cigarette to him. He smokes it, and retches.
You have to stop this, she tells him.
—Stop what? Stop coming to you?
—You know what I mean.
—Maybe I should just have married you.
—Do I look that dumb?
No, he thinks, Alyce Ardell does not look that dumb.
Alyce Ardell climbs from the bed. She is naked.
He reaches for her, but she is already gone.