“If You Need Help in Understanding Its Meaning, or If You Have a Personal Problem Concerning Your Relationship With It, Perganums Will Always be Pleased to Help You.” The large, incandescent neon letters hung ominously on a board by the doorway.
Louise hadn’t spoken to Maxwell for nearly three months now, not since the last few days of Rehab. Her own images were still with her – the emotional bloodletting, blurred anguish and confusion – making her balk every now and then as she considered what the next meeting between them would be like. Inwardly she knew exactly how it would be – a gently reserved greeting with no mention of the fear that would rise up in their throats at the thought of what they had once done to themselves, and each other. She knew Maxwell was almost certainly still going insane, but she also knew that she neither could, nor would, simply let herself stand idly by. This time there’d be none of the private jokes, however – no friendly intimate touches, or tender smiles they’d once shared. His powerful and active mind would still be there, but through her single act of what he saw as betrayal she had finally and irrevocably tainted it. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the rain, and shuffled inside to see the Man.