She rolled over and lit a cigarette, staring at the ceiling. She fought the urge to look at her watch. The big lump next to her let out a sigh and scratched himself. “That was alright, wasn’t it?”, he asked, somewhat rhetorically. She said nothing, and a note of urgency came to his voice: “That was okay, wasn’t it? I mean, I did make you feel alright, didn’t I?”, he pleaded.
—Scenes from The Penultimate Roadshow
She turned away from him and whispered: “Of course, dear…for a few seconds anyway.”