Re: hannah and david: woods
If she had been concerned about his bias toward Hugh, there it was on his face when she said he had hired her as a prostitute and enjoyed the pantomime of 'rescue.' "Well, the contact still recoiled when the light altered," he said. "But it doesn't sound as if he really ever saw you, before or after." The mention of Molly almost glided over him. It was night, though, and he was walking the knife's edge and it made it much harder to recline away from feeling anything about it, even the mention of her name. "I'm sorry," he said. "You deserve the real thing. I hope it doesn't hesitate in coming to you." She said she would like to devour someone, and opened a crevice of darkness, and he smiled, as if she'd said she'd like roses on her birthday, or for good weather tomorrow. "I think you would too." He still didn't feel he totally knew her, but he could see through to that darker place, a thing in common.
"I saw you kill a man with a shoe," he said, and tapped the side of his head with two fingers. He never spoke about it, his knack for picking memories out of people, out of objects. But there were many things he never spoke about, not unless he was pressed - about Molly, about his night work, about many things indeed. "There were memories there to read, and a life lived. I don't know what you were before either, but you were yourself then, the same as you are now.
"Then you tell them what to call you," he said. "You make the rules. They must play the game you make for them." He met her eye when she smiled at him. He took the permission as a mark of trust, as he assumed it was. "All right then, Amy." And when she asked him about Molly's stories, he shook his head. "I know she was gone, and that is all."