She forced her eyes open and looked at him.  He faced her, partially sunk into his pillow, and the moonlight from the window hit the top of his hair.  She was reminded of the old belief that sleeping in the moonlight would make a person insane, a lunatic, and considered that a boyfriend who wanted to unburden his conscience when you were trying to sleep was far more likely to make you crazy than the sun reflecting off a cold rock in the sky.   "About what?" she asked.  "Jean?"