"But Carey, how could you slight me so! You simply had to have known I was planning something, I even asked you what your favorite sort of wine was! I arranged my schedule so that we should be in the area at the same time, and it was the day marking our two-month anniversary!"
        I struggle to keep myself from bursting into laughter at this last. "Darling... you hardly have a ring."
        She is annoyed. "Well of course I haven't got a ring, are you mad? You know how obsessive Richard is about money and possessions and all, he would spot it in a minute and demand where I'd gotten it and---"
        At this point I do allow myself a patronizing chuckle, patting her hand gently to silence her. This condescension will make her petulant, but her lips for such a lovely little pout! That pout is a large part of the reason I tolerate her possessive dramatics. "Dear, dear, of course, I know. And have I not made certain that all my gifts to you were thus transient things, intangible things?"
        "Yes of course, but really Care, how could you forget?"
        I wave my hand vaguely, feigning an airy nonchalance. "I'm afraid it truly did slip my mind, I had that important luncheon at the club, and then I met that German businessman - I must have told you about him, the one with the hideous vest? - and you know I simply could not brush him off, his position was far too prestigious."
        She raises a sly eyebrow. "More prestigious than your own, my dearest?"
        This entire alibi is, of course, a complete fabrication. But I had wished she would not question it, it would make things much more simple if she did not. "I meant professionally, darling, his standing is obviously far below mine, but within the scope of his sort of business, I do not show on the register at all. But I do not expect you to know such things, women really weren't given the minds for business."
        "Oh, I do not question that; already I feel tired, simply from hearing you speak of it," she replies wearily, settling herself on the sofa. "Oh but do come sit beside me, I am still put out but I suppose I shall forgive you. Have you brought me anything?"
        I smile, amused by the childish simplicity of her grandiose manner. For all the ornate finery she dresses herself in, she is still parading around in her mother's pearls and too-large shoes. I find it quite entertaining, how seriously she takes her own fleeting whims and fancies. Even I am but a whim of hers - she sees me as a refined yet mysterious figure, one with enough wealth and leisure time to make up for all the spoiling her husband does not give her. But I think she will find me harder to be rid of than her past lovers, when her mood has changed. I have not entirely decided what I will do with her in the end, but...
        I sit beside her, taking from my jacket pocket a small box of absurdly expensive chocolates. She, not surprisingly, recognizes the confectioner's trademark design upon the box, and snatches it eagerly from my hands, her eyes shining brightly.
        "Oh, you dear thing! However did you know, I had been simply ravenous for some of these, but you know Richard would simply have a fit if I ever suggested the idea. I did once, you know, when we had only just been married, and had yet to tire of each other's company. We still took walks together and things in those days... ah, it feels as though it were only a scene in a book I read, long ago! But we passed the shop, you know, the one on Elm Street, where I'm sure you must have bought these, it is the only shop on this side of the city. And it was winter, my cheeks were growing cold and my feet were quite damp, so I wanted to stop somewhere to warm myself, and I thought why shouldn't we go into some place where I should at least be interested in the store's wares! But Richard wouldn't hear a word of it, can you believe that? He would not even let us walk inside, he said it would be silly to even entertain the notion of spending such absurd amounts of money on such a frivolity - and rude to the shopkeeper, if we went in and made no purchase at all, which would most certainly be the case. Oh was I ever annoyed with him at that! How like a man, is it really always nothing but business with men?"
        I put on my best expression of tender reassurance, and stroke her hair soothingly. "No, my dear, not with all of us," I lie smoothly, then kiss her temple gently.
        She instantly turns her head from me, but not before I see the blush blossom in her cheeks. "Now, none of that, you know how I feel about that. If I allow you one move you shall take a thousand."
        "Of course, darling, I apologize. I only meant it as a gesture of comfort." She would have slapped me and turned me out entirely had I done that a mere month ago - I really do think I shall bring her to take me as a true lover within another month or so. It is a thing she has never done - she seeks flattery more than anything from her men on the side. She has never allowed one even a kiss, and so she believes herself to be faithful to her husband, though her heart left him behind long ago, and her only thoughts of him are annoyance. Meanwhile she spends every moment possible sneaking around and enjoying the company of other men, gorging herself on their sweet words and yearning looks, their restrained passions and generous gifts. She has the emotional state of one who is completely fulfilled by her relations of infidelity. Really, her spirit is more bound up by her extramarital activities than many women I have known, who slept with a new lover every night!
        "---and so I simply must find a way to get that new hat before Clara's party! Have you any ideas?"
        Enough of my mind had listened to her while my focus was elsewhere, that I recognize I ought to answer, and know how I am expected to.
        "Doesn't the milliner's daughter owe you a favor? You will forgive the reminder, for I am sure you recall perfectly that party back in June, where you---"
        "Oh yes, that's just the thing!" she exclaims, nearly clapping her hands in girlish delight, her eyes shining brightly. "Why, I had almost forgotten. But she would have been in a simply awful situation, had I not been there to help. Certainly she of all people will understand my need in this case, of course she will help me - and she's such a bright girl that I am certain she will be able to arrange the details so that even dowdy old Richard is satisfied."

        And so the afternoon passes, with her endless chatter, and my indulgence to her every slight concern. She has the wine she had bought brought to us, and the bottle is soon empty. (Richard will be late in returning this evening, he will expect to find her asleep, and so her inebriation will be of no consequence.) She allows me to run my fingers over her hand and arm - pretending she does not notice, but I see the flush of her pale skin, and feel the goosebumps which rise in anticipation of my touch.
        Oh, I shall certainly have her! It is a subtle game I must play here, but I delight in the challenge. This day will undoubtedly cost me several days banishment from her presence, for she will remember my unasked-for touches, and she is terrified by what they might mean to her - yet excited all the same, and so I shall soon be permitted to return.
        In any event, it is not as if I shall be starved for company in the meantime. Carol has begun to complain to her set that I am neglecting her (as I am, intentionally). Elizabeth needs someone to accompany her to that dinner tomorrow night, and she believes me to be the most well-suited to the expected atmosphere (as I had planned, and thus I had her invited in the first place). Colin's play opens Thursday, and Mephisto is - unexpectedly, and quite strangely - going to be away, and will not be able to attend, and of course the dear boy ought to have the support of at least one compassionate soul in the audience. (Mephisto would truly be more suited to this task than I, he has such a ridiculous weakness for these theater boys.) And then Sadie will be returning from Paris this very evening, and it simply would not do for me to miss greeting her upon arrival.
        My calender is really quite full for the rest of the week at least, I have plenty of room for one of Rebecca's moods.
        I ought to buy her a ring, simply to see if she will see the jest, or be terrified and throw me from the house. Either would be quite amusing, I really must pursue the idea. I know of a wonderful jeweler who owes me some favor, perhaps I shall call it in.
        But for now, I bid her goodnight, after seeing that a maidservant is handy to guide her up the stairs to her bedchamber - I do not think she would make it that far in safety, she really does not have much tolerance for alcohol in any form. (Richard being, as always, the reason - he believes in temperance, and that alcohol leads to all sorts of dreadful debauchery, and above all leads people to spend exorbitant amounts of money on a thing that shall be gone in an evening. Such a reasonable man, no wonder she hates him so.)

        The streets grow darker even as I walk through them, the lamps lit but making little headway against the shadows. The year is waning, the sun growing weary and turning early away from the pale skies. It must have rained in the time I spent indoors, for the ground is damp, and scattered with a few glistening puddles, which reflect the lamps in dull, shaky contortions. There is a chill breeze, and I pull my jacket closer around me, ducking my chin down into the collar. It is just as well the weather induces this posture, for I do not want to look approachable, I have too many things to think of. Sadie should be disembarking about now, and she said to meet her---
        Oh, where was I to meet her! A sudden panic floods my mind, my heart stops up short and my breathing is stunted. Where did she say--- was it at the hotel? No no, it must have been--- oh where was I to meet her! Why can't I remember? I have kept track of a thousand appointments, with a hundred different persons, all in the same week, why can't I remember this one little thing? This has never happened to me, I have never had to sink so low as to keep the sort of pocket calenders and appointment books that men so often rely on, I will not do so! I do not need to. Did she even tell me where to meet her, or was the information neglected in some side path of conversation...
        She told me. I can hear her voice in my mind, low and sulty, her eyes dark with promise, as she murmured that when she returned from Paris, I should meet her---
        I cannot remember.
        ...I cannot remember!
        Terrified, I begin to run. I have no idea where to, but I am possessed by a sudden urgency, and I need to run. My feet pound on the pavement, the few persons on the street stare at me in confusion or - in the case of those whose path I ignorantly cut off - stern annoyance. I care nothing for them, I run, my lungs beginning to burn, I do not usually engage in such exertions - though of course my body is far superior to the usual mortal form. But I have not felt such rasping tears through my lungs in centuries, not since---
        Oh no no no not that! No. It has not been so long, why did I think of that? That is long behind me now, another life, another existence, another world. I have run many times, in pleasure and in need, why I ran that marathon centuries ago, Adir and I joined as a jest, and he won, I lost only because there was such a beautiful woman in sight of the road, and, really, her attentions were worth far more to me at the time than a silly race! Ah, she was truly lovely, eyes of emerald and jade and olives tinged with the warmth of flame, her hair such long dark waves down her back, her tanned skin, so smooth and warm, the strength in her arms...
        Sadie where the devil are you! I shall have to find some grand excuse for not being there, she really is a favorite of mine, and unfortunately she is fully aware of this fact.