"Not me."
"These letters are to you. You fit the description.... Dark man. Elegant. Live on the east side. Went to college...."
"But not a vestal virgin."
"What?"
"I thought it was obvious. Didn't you notice it in the letter? Right here. He's written: 'You vomit virgin with your Judas morals....' Is that me, Jake?" Stacy pointed to the nudes on the wall. "Would anybody who knows me call me virginal ... moralistic?"
"Jesus Christ!" Lennox exclaimed furiously. "If it's not you, then who? Who the hell is getting these letters?"
"Look for a coward."
"Why a coward?"
"Because a coward's writing them. You go around the world, Jake, and you learn another thing. There's class distinction in everything. You love your own kind and you hate your own kind. The jackals hate the jackals. They don't dare hate a lion."
Lennox waved the photostats impatiently.