Soon it will be evening and the clear night sky will be dusted thickly with Summer stars. I shall be here, as always, smoking by the water. I have decided to leave Clea’s last letter un-answered. I no longer wish to coerce anyone, to make promises, to think of life in terms of compacts, resolutions, covenants. It will be up to Clea to interpret my silence according to her own needs and desires, to come to me if she has need or not, as the case may be. Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?
—Lawrence Durrell, Justine