”I walked the hallway and tapped on the bedroom door. “Yes, I know. I heard the car pull up.”I opened the door slowly. She was sitting on the be.... It was obvious that she had been crying. She looked up and smiled at me then said, “I’m a fucking mess. I’ve been worried about him all day long. He’s like a kid with a new toy, running here, running there and telling me how much he loves me and thanking me over and over again. If he loves me so much why the fuck is he doing this?”“He’s doing this. But yes, you are—and of that I am also sure."She kissed him, long and lingeringly."I speak as I do with you now out of simple habit," he continued when she let him. "I am used to it, having done it most of my life; it has become natural to me. It is a strategy similar to that which has been adopted by many members of the culturally oppressed minorities that you named earlier, a mode of speech intentionally designed to emphasize one's own distinction." Oh," she said. "But isn't it the other way. More

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