He thought of Lena:
"She has a lover in Paris," he said.
"Who has?"
"Lena..."
"But we have each other ... so..."
"We have forty-eight hours ... ah no ... it doesn't do to count ... We..."
"Can't you stay longer?"
"You know I can't--it's impossible! And Lena ... she wants me to sleep with her." He half heard his own words, resenting them, resenting Lena's influence.
"Who does?" Jeannette was stalling: trying to erase the fact.
"Lena."