A part of me recognized that she was completely right. So I counterattacked. I tried to relax my features into something more amiable. Plausible anyway. I went back to the kitchen - actually just a space along one wall with a small stove and a dish cabinet in it - and started heating water for tea. I looked at my watch. A little after 11 p.m. Do you feel blacks on cougars something holy? Too holy for a businessman to discuss? The black cat leaped off her lap at that one. Something glowed in me. I had her there. All that talk you gave me about the audience not being able to feel the cadences. I was standing by the fireplace again, striking a pose of sweet reasonableness. I looked at her face. I could see I had hit home. Something inside me thrilled at blacks on cougars.