He was tall, nearly six feet, and from his stature it was clear that he spent some spare time working on his physique. This was irregular. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion.
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