“Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa. She let him take off her skirt as she ritualistically removed his jeans along with his boxers. He talked at the blackboard in a pleasant, very slightly lisping voice with a curious spontaneity, and was sometimes very clumsy in his exposition, and sometimes very vivid. Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders by the valance of the bed. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.
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