The husband then carries (or leads) the wife into another place (another room, a basement, a friend’s apartment) where he has set up some kind of “cove” or “hideout.” Perhaps there’s a mattress on the floor, or the bed has a different bedspread on it (such as black satin), and there’s a treasure trunk or box near the bed (containing a new bauble for his captured princess), and a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Some exciting “bandit music” pulsates from the stereo—Ravel’s Bolero comes to mind—and an exciting aroma comes from incense. He lays her down on the bed, pours some champagne, and offers a toast.
“To my new princess!”
“Champagne? I don’t believe you.”
“Drink it.”
“I don’t want it. Why don’t you take off that silly mask?” “I said drink it”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Something I should have done long ago.”
“Are you going to ravish me?”
“Like you’ve never been ravished in your life.”
“You masked brute. Unhand me!”
“You’re free to go any time you want.”
*86/196/1*
