I went straight upstairs, got the bird cage, took it down and left it in front of herdoor. That settled that. Or so I imagined until the next morning when, as I wasleaving for work, I saw the cage perched on a sidewalk ash-can waiting for thegarbage collector. Rather sheepishly, I rescued it and carried it back to my room, acapitulation that did not lessen my resolve to put Holly Golightly absolutely out of mylife. She was, I decided, "a crude exhibitionist," "a time waster," "an utter fake":someone never to be spoken to again.

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