and since the junkies departure she hadnt said a thing and even on her best days there was such a shattered globe of hereditary quiet in her not that he could claim to know it and in truth furthermore he hardly knew the girl at all he had just come in for a glass of warmish tea but he found himself challenged by the obstinacy and the ease with which she gave away her self and her papier mch dignity to a mirage of indifference a dervish of deeply lodged splinters a bad poets dream taken seriously they were all such bad poets ultimately .