His fists were concrete blocks; and he broke open his fists as one breaks open an egg, and drank of the thick yolk of his fists. I said to him, looking down, "That’s unfortunate." I shook my head at him. And there was a treasure deep in his core, a treasure buried in his flesh, hidden in his flesh as the shell hides the yolk. I said to him, "Your life is so disgusting—everything about you is disgusting. How can you do such disgusting things!" He turned to me in rage and said, "I can’t . . ." but he could not finish.