John: We will live in the country.
Fanny: Close to Mama.
John: And our bedroom will look out onto a little apple orchard and beyond that, a mountain in a mist.
Fanny: We can make a garden where every sort of wildflower grows.
John: And we will go to bed while the sun is still high.
Fanny: And when it becomes dark, the moon will shine through the shutters.
John: And I will hold you close, and kiss your breasts, your arms, your waist.
Fanny: Everywhere.
John: Touch has a memory.
Fanny: I know it.