I slipped behind her; she arched her shoulders and her coat came off in my hands. Her only item of clothing was a pair of high heels, in which she clacked down my hall. "I thought why bother getting dressed."
"Perfectly sensible." I gave her my arm at once, as one has been trained to do for a woman who's just arrived naked at a party, so that her entrance remains a simple statement of preference, rather than a thing too calculated or too keenly imaginative.
- William Kotzwinkle, The Midnight Examiner, p.50
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