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〃Stop it。 What do you want？〃
〃What do I want？ I don't want anything。 I'm a little confused； that's all。 I'd like to be straightened out。 The man introduced you under a mistaken name in there。〃
〃What do you want？ What are you doing down here？〃
〃Well； for that matter；〃 he said with insolent urbanity； 〃what are you doing yourself down here？〃
She repeated it a third time。 〃What do you want？〃
〃Can't a man show interest in his ex…protégée and child？ There's no way of making children ex； you know。〃
〃You're either insane or…〃
〃You know that isn't so。 You wish it were；〃 he said brutally。
She turned on her heel。 His hand found her wrist again； flicked around it like a whip。 Cutting just as deeply。
〃Don't go inside yet。 We haven't finished。〃
She stopped； her back to him now。 〃I think we have。〃
〃The decision is mine。〃
He let go of her； but she stayed there where she was。 She heard him light another cigarette； saw the momentary reflection from behind her own shoulder。
He spoke at last； voice thick with expelled smoke。 〃You still haven't cleared things up；〃 he purred。 〃I'm as mixed…up as ever。 This Hugh Hazzard married…er…let's say you； his wife； in Paris； a year ago last June fifteenth。 I went to considerable expense and trouble to have the exact date on the records there verified。 But a year ago last June fifteenth you and I were living in our little furnished room in New York。 I have the receipted rent…bills to show for this。 How could you have been in two such far…apart places at once？〃 He sighed philosophically。 〃Somebody's got their dates mixed。 Either he had。 Or I have。〃 And then very slowly； 〃Or you have。〃
She winced unavoidably at that Slowly her head came around； her body still remaining turned from him。 Like one who listens hypnotized； against her will。
〃It was you who's been sending those…？〃
He nodded with mock affability； as if on being plimented on something praiseworthy。 〃I thought it would be kinder to break it to you gently。〃
She drew in her breath with an icy shudder of repugnance。
〃I first happened on your name among the train…casualties； when I was up in New York；〃 he said。 He paused。 〃I went down there and 'identified' you； you know；〃 he went on matter…of…factly。 〃You have that much to thank me for； at any rate。〃
He puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette。
〃Then I heard one thing and another； and put two and two together。 I went back for awhile first…got the rent…receipts together and one thing and another…and then finally I came on the rest of the way down here； out of curiosity。 I became quite confused；〃 he said ironically； 〃when I learned the rest of the story。〃
He waited。 She didn't say anything。 He seemed to take pity on her finally。 〃I know；〃 he said indulgently； 〃this isn't the time nor place to…talk over old times。 This is a party； and you're anxious to get back and enjoy yourself。〃
She shivered。
〃Is there anywhere I can reach you？〃
He took out a notebook； clicked a lighter。 She mistakenly thought he was waiting to write at her dictate。 Her lips remained frozen。
〃Seneca 382；〃 he read from the notebook。 He put it away again。 His hand made a lazy curve between them。 In the stricken silence that followed he suggested after awhile； casually： 〃Lean up against that chair so you don't fall； you don't seem very steady on your feet； and I don't want to have to carry you bodily inside in front of all those people。〃
She put her hands to the top of the chair…back and stood quiet； head inclined。
The rose…amber haze in the open doorway down at the center of the terrace blotted out for a moment； and Bill was standing there looking for her。
〃Patrice； this is our dance。〃
Georgesson rose for a second from the balustrade in sketchy etiquette； immediately sank back against it。
She made her way toward him； the blue pall of the terrace covering her uncertainty of step； and went inside with him。 His arms took charge of her from that point on； so that she no longer had to be on her own。
〃You were both standing there like statues；〃 he said。 〃He can't be very good pany。〃
She lurched against him in the tendril…like twists of the rumba； her head dropped to rest on his shoulder。
〃He isn't very good pany；〃 she agreed sickly。
33
The phone…call came at a fiendishly unpropitious moment。
He'd timed it well。 He couldn't have timed it better if he'd been able to look through the walls of the house and watch their movements on the inside。 The two men in the family were out。 She'd just finished putting Hughie to sleep。 She and Mother Hazzard were both up on the second floor； separately。 Which meant that she was the only one fully eligible to answer。
She knew at the first instant of hearing it who it was； what it was。 She knew too； that she'd been expecting it all day； that she'd known it was ing； it was surely ing。
She stood there rooted； unable to move。 Maybe it would stop if she didn't go near it； maybe he would tire。 But then it would ring again some other time。
Mother Hazzard opened the door of her room and looked out。
Patrice had swiftly opened her own door； was at the head of the stairs； before she'd fully emerged。
〃I'll get it on this phone； dear； if you're busy。〃
〃No； never mind； Mother； I was just going downstairs； anyway； so I'll answer it there。〃
She knew his voice right away。 She hadn't heard it for over two years； until just last night； and yet it was again as familiar to her as if she'd been hearing it steadily for months past。 Fear quickens the memory。
He was as pleasantly aloof at first as any casual caller on the telephone。 〃Is this the younger Mrs。 Hazzard？ Is this Patrice Hazzard？〃
〃This is she。〃
〃I suppose you know； this is Georgesson。〃
She did know； but she didn't answer that。
〃Are you…where you can be heard？〃
〃I'm not in the habit of answering questions like that。 I'll hang up the receiver。〃
Nothing could seem to make him lose his equanimity。 〃Don't do that； Patrice；〃 he said urbanely。 〃I'll ring back again。 That'll make it worse。 They'll begin wondering who it is keeps on calling so repeatedly。 Or； eventually； someone else will answer…you can't stay there by the phone all evening…and I'll give my name if I have to and ask for you。〃 He waited a minute for this to sink in。 〃Don't you see； it's better for you this way。〃
She sighed a little； in suppressed fury。
〃We can't talk very much over the phone。 I think it's better not to； anyway。 I'm talking from McClellan's Drugstore； a few blocks from you。 My car's just around the corner from there； where it can't be seen。 On the left side of Pomeroy Street； just down from the crossing。 Can you walk down that far for five or ten minutes？ I won't keep you long。〃
She tried to match the brittle formality of his voice with her own。 〃I most certainly can not。〃
〃Of course you can。 You need cod…liver…oil capsules for your baby； from McClellan's。 Or you feel like a soda； for yourself。 I've seen you stop in there more than once； in the evening。〃
He waited。
〃Shall I call back？ Would you rather think it over awhile？〃
He waited again。
〃Don't do that；〃 she said reluctantly； at last。
She could tell he understood： her meaning had been a positive and not a negative one。
She hung up。
She went upstairs again。
Mother Hazzard didn't ask her。 They weren't inquisitive that way； in this house。 But the door of her room was open。 Patrice couldn't bring herself to reenter her own without at least a passing reference。 Guilty conscience； this Soon？ she wondered bitingly。
〃That was a Steve Georgesson； Mother；〃 she called in。 〃Bill and I ran into him there last night He wanted to know how we'd enjoyed ourselves。〃
〃Well； that was real thoughtful of him； wasn't it？〃 Then she added； 〃He must be a decent sort； to do that。〃
Decent； Patrice thought dismally； easing the door closed after her。
She came out of her room again in about ten minutes' time。 Mother Hazzard's door was closed now。 She could have gone on down the stairs unquestioned。 Again she couldn't do it。
She went over and knocked lightly； to attract attention。
〃Mother； I'm going to take a walk down to the drugstore and back。 Hughie's out of his talc。 And I'd like a breath of air。 I'll be back in five minutes。〃
〃Go ahead； dear。 I'll say goodnight to you now； in case I'm asleep by the time you're in again。〃
She rested her outstretched hand helplessly against the door for a minute。 She felt like saying； Mother； don't let me go。 Forbid me。 Keep me here。
She turned away and went down the stairs。 It was her own battle； and no proxies were allowed。
She stopped beside the car； on darkened Pomeroy Street。
〃Sit in here； Patrice；〃 he said amiably。 He unlatched the door for her； from where he sat； and even palmed the leather cushion patronizingly。
She settled herself on the far side of the seat。 Her eyes snapped refusal of the cigarette he was trying to offer her。
〃We can be seen。〃
〃Turn this way； toward me。 No one'！！ notice you。 Keep your back to the street。〃
〃This can't go on。 Now once and for all； for the first time and the last； what is it you want of me； what is this about？〃
〃Look； Patrice； there doesn't have to be anything unpleasant abo