Friday came.
At least I assumed it was a Friday. I wasn’t about to change the habit of a lifetime and start counting the days, not at this late hour. If the hour is late. I think it is.
So I assumed it was a Friday, knowing all the time that it was just an assumption based on some very dodgy information, that is, that this Marina woman would come on a Friday as usual for the usual. Of course, this itself came from a man I had never met before. Oh, he seemed to know what he was talking about, roughly speaking. Yet I had no way of knowing whether he was dissembling, mistaken or incompetent, or whether he could be all three by turn; now dissembling, now incompetent and now mistaken. Or indeed that these three might not combine in a single moment, so whilst he thought he was being a cunning
