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And wel ye woot, agaynes kynde
Hyt were to lyven in thys wyse,
For nature wolde nat suffyse
To noon erthly creature
Nat longe tyme to endure
Withoute slep and be in sorwe …

It doesn’t really work, does it? But that’s the essence of fantasy. Philippa (that’s what you’ve decided her name is) is not going to fall in with you, with your way of death. The thing is hopeless before it begins. Time to return from the soft smoky darkness of this haunted club to the harsh glare of the streets – time to refresh your memories of sleep.

Puis, sans jamais me parler d’Henriette, il me fait un sermon sur la vie à venir. Then, without even mentioning Henriette, the Fleming read a sermon on the life to come, the vanities we vainly prefer, and the necessity of respecting these days, which do not belong to us …

“D’you have a light?”

Looking up, you see the dark-haired girl, karl-kona, she of the wing-tattooed hips.

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