He walked out and closed the door. Linda had the feeling that she was imprisoned, not with a lock and key, but by the imposed time limit. She decided to write down what she was going to say in a note-book, and pulled one across the table towards her. When she flipped it open she was confronted with a bad sketch of a seductively posed naked woman. To her surprise she saw it was Martinsson's notepad. But why should that surprise me? she thought. All the men I know spend an enormous amount of mental energy undressing women in their minds.