Lanvin holds on.

“There is a pain and innocence about him.”

“Yes.”

“No, listen. There is this terribleness about him, wretchedness. It is like he is eating away at himself even though he can destroy me with his words.”

“Sounds sort of promising.”

“The gifts I give he appears to analysis like on a conveyor belt at the airport not sure how to accept. I know it is a self destruction when gifts—given, and received, are hard to digest.”

“More scars than this filet.”

“Mine are healing because I know where they come from now. I can look at him, and see, that he is open to the subjugation that I once was.

“They should name this place Macabre.”

“No, listen, I say all of this because he slips up and shows an innocence I didn’t know was possible. The innocence seems out of body. It is such an innocence that is like an echo that I can hear in myself and others at times. It is like a truth. That innocence is what I hold onto.”