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20
And then； a few weeks later； another pitfall。 Or rather the same one； ever…present； ever lurking treacherously underfoot as she walked this path of her own choosing。
It had been raining； and it grew heavily misted out A rare occurrence for Caulfield。 They were all there in the room with her and she stopped by the window a moment in passing to glance out。
〃Heavens；〃 she exclaimed incautiously； 〃I haven't seen everything look so blurry since I was a child in San Fran。 We used to get those fogs there。〃
In the reflection on the lighted pane she saw Mother Hazzard's head go up； and knew before she had even turned back to face them she had said the wrong thing。 Trodden incautiously again； where there was no support。
〃In San Francisco； dear？〃 Mother Hazzard's voice was guilessly puzzled。 〃But I thought you were raised in…Hugh wrote us you were originally from…〃 And then she didn't finish it； withholding the clue； no helpful second choice was forthing this time。 Instead a flat question followed。 〃Is that where you were born； dear？〃
〃No；〃 Patrice said distinctly； and knew what the next question was sure to be。 A question she could not have answered at the moment。
Bill raised his head suddenly； turned it inquiringly toward the stairs。 〃I think I hear the youngster crying； Patrice。〃
〃I'll go up and take a look；〃 she said gratefully； and left the room。
He was in a soundless sleep when she got to him。 He wasn't making a whimper that anyone could possibly have heard。 She stood there by him with a look of thoughtful scrutiny on her face。
Had he really thought he heard the baby crying？
21
Then there was the day she was slowly sauntering along Congress Avenue； window…shopping。 Congress Avenue was the main retail thoroughfare。 Looking at this window…display； looking at that； not intending to buy anything； not needing to。 But enjoying herself all the more in this untrammelled state。 Enjoying the crowd of welldressed shoppers thronging the sunlit sidewalk all about her； the great majority of them women at that forenoon hour of the day。 Enjoying the bustle； the spruce activity； they conveyed。 Enjoying this carefree moment； this brief respite （an errand for Mother Hazzard； a promise to pick something up for her； was what had brought her downtown）； all the more for knowing that it was a legitimate absence； not a dereliction； and that the baby was safe； well taken care of while she was gone。 And that she'd enjoy returning to it all the more； after this short diversion。
It was simply a matter of taking the bus at the next stop ahead； instead of at the nearer one behind her； and strolling the difference between the two。
And then from somewhere behind her she heard her name called。 She recognized the voice at the first syllable。 Cheerful； sunny。 Bill。 She had her smile of greeting ready before she had even turned her head。
Two of his long； energetic strides and he was beside her。
〃Hello there。 I thought I recognized you。〃
They stopped for a minute； face to face。
〃What are you doing out of the office？〃
〃I was on my way back just now。 Had to go over and see a man。 And you？〃
〃I came down to get Mother some imported English yarn she had waiting for her at Bloom's。 Before they send it out； I can be there and back with it。〃
〃I'll walk with you；〃 he offered。 〃Good excuse to loaf。 As far as the next corner anyhow。〃
〃That's where I'm taking my bus anyway；〃 she told him。
They turned and resumed their course； but at the snail's pace she had been maintaining by herself before now。
He crinkled his nose and squinted upward appreciatively。 〃It does a fellow good to get out in the sun once in awhile。〃
〃Poor abused man。 I'd like to have a penny for every time you're out of that office during hours。〃
He chuckled unabashedly。 〃Can I help it if Dad sends me？ Of course； I always happen to get right in front of him when he's looking around for someone to do the legwork。〃
They stopped。
〃Those're nice；〃 she said appraisingly。
〃Yes；〃 he agreed。 〃But what are they？〃
〃You know darned well they're hats。 Don't try to be so superior。〃
They went on； stopped again。
〃Is this what they call window…shopping？〃
〃This is what they call window…shopping。 As if you didn't know。〃
〃It's fun。 You don't get anywhere。 But you see a lot。〃
〃You may like it now； because it's a novelty。 Wait 'll you're married and get a lot of it。 You won't like it then。〃
The next window…display was an offering of fountain pens； a narrow little show…case not more than two or three yards in width。
She didn't offer to stop there。 It was now he who did； halting her with him as a result。
〃Wait a minute。 That reminds me。 I need a new pen。 Will you e in with me a minute and help me pick one out？〃
〃I ought to be getting back；〃 she said halfheartedly。
〃It'll only take a minute。 I'm a quick buyer。〃
〃I don't know anything about pens；〃 she demurred。
〃I don't myself。 That's just it。 Two heads are better than one。〃 He'd taken her lightly by the arm by now； to try to induce her。 〃Ah； e on。 I'm the sort they sell anything to when I'm alone。〃
〃I don't believe a word of it。 You just want pany；〃 she laughed； but she went inside with him nevertheless。
He offered her a chair facing the counter。 A case of pens was brought out and opened。 They were discussed between him and the salesman； she taking no active part。 Several were uncapped； filled at a waiting bottle of ink at hand on the counter； and tried out on a pad of scratch…paper； also at hand for that purpose。
She looked on； trying to show an interest she did not really feel。
Suddenly he said to her； 〃How do you like the way this writes？〃 and thrust one of them between her fingers and the block of paper under her hand； before she quite knew what had happened。
Incautiously； her mind on the proportions and weight of the barrel in her grasp； her attention fixed on what sort of a track the nib would leave； whether a broad bold one or a thin wiry one； she put it to the pad。 Suddenly 〃Helen〃 stood there on the topmost leaf； almost as if produced by automatic writing。 Or rather； in the fullest sense of the word； it was just that。 She checked herself just in time to prevent the second name from flowing out of the pen。 It was already on the preliminary upward stroke of a capital G； when she jerked it clear。
〃Here； let me try it a minute myself。〃 Without warning he'd taken both pen and pad back again； before she could do anything to obliterate or alter what was on it。
Whether he saw it or not she couldn't tell。 He gave no indication。 Yet it was right there under his eyes； he must have； how could he have failed to？
He drew a cursory line or two； desisted。
〃No；〃 he said to the salesman。 〃Let me see that one。〃
While he was reaching into the case； she managed to deftly peel off the topmost leaf with that damaging 〃Helen〃 on it。 Crumpled it surreptitiously in her hand； dropped it to the floor。
And then； belatedly； realized that perhaps this was even worse than had she left it on there where it was。 For surely he'd seen it anyway； and now she'd only pointed up the fact that she did not want him to。 In other words； she'd doubly damned herself； first by the error； then by taking such pains to try to efface it。
Meanwhile； his interest in the matter of pens had all at once flagged。 He looked at the clerk； about to speak； and she could have almost predicted what he was about to say…had he said it…his expression conveyed it so well。 〃Never mind。 I'll stop in again some other time。〃 But then instead he gave her a look； and as though recalled to the necessity for maintaining some sort of plausibility； said hurriedly； almost indifferently； 〃All right； here； make it this one。 Send it over to my office later on。〃
He scarcely looked at it。 It didn't seem to matter to him which one he took。
And； she reminded herself； after making such to…do about her ing in with him to help him select one。
〃Shall we go？〃 he said； a trifle reticently。
Their parting was strained。 She didn't know whether it was due to him or due to herself。 Or just due to her own imagining。 But it seemed to her to lack the jaunty spontaneity of their meeting just a few minutes ago。
He didn't thank her for helping him select a pen； and she was grateful for that at least。 But his eyes were suddenly remote； abstracted； where until now they had been wholly on her at every turn of speech。 They seemed to be looking up this way toward the top of a building； looking down that way toward the far end of the street； looking everywhere but at her any more； even while he was saying 〃Here's your bus；〃 and arming her into it； and reaching in from where he stood to pay the driver her fare。 〃Goodbye。 Get home all right See you tonight。〃 And tipped his hat； and seemed to have already forgotten her even before he had pleted the act of turning away and going about his business。 And yet somehow she knew that just the reverse was true。 That he was more conscious of her than ever； now that he seemed least so。 Distance had intervened between them； that was all。
She looked down at her lap； while the bus swept her along past the crowded sidewalks。 Funny how quickly a scene could ch