I feel self-conscious in my black dress and no shoes and I occasionally look back over my shoulder. The bathroom is cavernous, with marble tiles, pool...sized tub and candles. I touch the bottles of my perfume, my favorite soap. This is dreamlike and my heart begins to pound again. Perhaps I should take a bath, as The Man suggested. It might calm me. The feeling that I am being watched is unnerving. I run the bath water very hot. Sitting on the edge of the tub I stare into the forming pool of. The water flowed into her ears like a kiss. The hour of the bath was that where Chrysis commenced to adore herself. The loveliness of her body became the object of tender contemplation and admiration. With her hair and her hands she made a thousand charming plays; now and then she laughed softly, like a c***d. The day drew to a close. She rose up in the basin, came out of the water and walked toward the door. The marks of her feet glistened upon the stones. Swaying and as though exhausted, she. More

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