Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction? Do you think I am trusty and faithful? --Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Was Monica reading the poems the President gave her, when she wasn't trapped playing strip poker with the prosecutor last week? Holed up in her Watergate apartment, could she bear to watch herself all day, all the time on CNN, as old lovers denounced her, pundits dissected her and the President's defenders dismissed her? Or did she fall back on old comforts, watch Days of Our Lives? Could she tell the difference? Could we?
If the first...