The books has a bewelled exterior and a deeply trashy, deeply dated story. This is a first (only?) edition of it, published in 1959. Basically, young Carlotta is a boozer who finds herself on the therapist's couch. Therapist is a sleazly old white man, the story is told from his point of view, I'll say no more. The cover is so beautiful and such a perfect example of design on the cusp of the sixties- but WHY would the author allow such a large picture of himself on the cover is beyond me. Purely trash, purely lovely 1959 hardcover in pretty good nick (Secker and Warburg), pure trashy trashness.