[Superhero. Rosalind stares at him for a long few seconds, trying to see if he's giving her shit, but . . . no. He wouldn't have shifted past the subject if he was teasing; he'd have lingered.

Well!]

Nothing nearly so dramatic. I remembered . . . I was in a rowboat on the sea. It was raining, and I was annoyed. Not just because of the rain, but because I was there at all, and because I was annoyed, I was picking a fight with the other person there: a man. I'd already bullied him into doing all the rowing, and that was what he was complaining about: that I wasn't helping out. So we bickered, back and forth, and . . . we were on our way to a lighthouse, and for some reason, it was vital we reached it.

. . . I was very fond of him. The gentleman. I don't know why. I don't even know his name. But I was fiercely fond of him.