Remember that the life of this world is but a sport and a pastime.
—Koran, LVII19
Dean drives in cool excitement, in the electric hush of tires. He has a hard-on half the time and wonders if there will be any trouble registering in the hotel. The rain passes. There are scattered clouds with 
the moon behind them. The sky is brighter than the land. Annie is sleeping, curled up in the leather seat. He wakes her as they enter Paris. They drive along the river through light traffic and then down Rue de Rivoli, her favorite. She watches the passage of the long, immaculate arcades like a tourist. Then she takes out a mirror to inspect her face.
