Breakfast at Tiffany's, by Truman Capote (@RandomHouseCa) #seenreadingTO
Wednesday, April 20, 2011 at 11:12AM ;)
Northbound, Pape and Danforth
Caucasian woman, late 20s, with long curly brown hair, wearing glasses, red jacket, and sun-faded pink and white backpack.
Breakfast at Tiffany's, by Truman Capote (Knopf Doubleday)
Page 47:
She sighed and picked up her knitting. "I must be madly in love. You saw us together. Do you think I'm madly in love?"
"Well. Does he bite?"
Mag dropped a stitch. "Bite?"
"You. In bed."
"Why, no. Should he?" Then she added, censoriously: "But he does laugh."
"Good. That's the right spirit. I like a man who sees the humor; most of them, they're all pant and puff."
The skin has never been broken, but when her lover comes she buries her snout into her shoulder, sniffing her hair for evidence of new secretions, recognizing her own scent before relaxing into a sleepy trance. Her eye lids flutter, a content growl resting at the back of her throat before curling into herself for a short nap. When she awakes minutes later it's with a playful alertness. Now they can go outside?
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