"The more elliptical the writing, the harder the act of reconstruction. It’s like walking into a classroom after a lecture has taken place and trying to imagine the contents of the lecture through the notes remaining on the chalkboard. Or like forensic expert arriving at the scene of a crime. Or like a maid cleaning up a hotel room in the morning. As she clears the smudged wine glasses and the two trays with room-service meals (one eaten, the other barely touched) and strips the rumpled sheets (which have not however been kicked off the bed), does she stop to think how the couple spent the night before? Did they quarrel? Did they make love, and if so, was it perfunctory or passionate? Was it their first time? I can’t imagine she isn’t at least a little curious. How often do we peer into a bedroom of someone we haven’t slept with?"
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