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want to keep on playing? Tomorrow at 14 hours. Give this card to the saleswoman at number

14, St. Dennis Street.

Intrigue.

I couldn't *****. Was it guilt or excitement? A mixture of both, I guess. Should I accept

this mysterious invitation? Who was playing around with me and why? I had to be more trusting.

I called Natasha. Natasha is my only friend here in Paris. She's a dancer in a nightclub,

so I can talk to her openly about today's adventures. I always listen to hers. She's

a collector of one-night stands and hard experiences with no regrets. She's a real

whore, as Luca would say. There was too much to say over the phone, so I asked her to join

me for breakfast tomorrow on the Champs-Élysées.

I'm gonna go to *****.

Oh, look at me.

Your eyes.

Your eyes.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Yes, yes, yes.

Come, come.

Oh, you don't.

Come on, come on, come on.

You want it?

Yeah, I like it.

Oh, yeah.

Give me your arm.

It's okay, it's gonna be strong.

Yes.