You look funny, said R.
Like you’ve got one foot in the former world, said G.
Like you’ve been doing too much recalling, said R.
It happens, said G.
Happens even to us, said R.
I sometimes recall my childhood bike, said G.
I sometimes recallmychildhood bike, said R.
Which one are you now, dear girl? said G.
Jill or not-Jill? said R.
Trending toward Jill, I think, said G.
Merely Jill, said R.
Poor dead, said G.
Plain old, said R.
Oh, shut it, I said.
Anyway, no hard feelings, said R. Go on, shoot back up there, do your thing, hon.
Flail away, said G.
We’ve got him, said R.
He’s ours, said G.
Got him good, said R.
He’s pigheaded, said G.
Pigheaded, with an astonishingly limited capacity for self-examination, said R.
Everything you and your French pal have tried? said G.
Has come to naught, said R.
Only hardened his resolve, said G.
Caused him to retrench more energetically, said R.
That’s how it is with us, said G.
Our kind, said R.
We doers, said G.
Who accomplish, said R.
Who bend the world to our will, said G.
