At the cottage they made their drinks and took them out onto the back porch, and within a few minutes they’d stripped their clothes off, flinging their shirts and shorts and bathing suits onto the deck, and made love—much too quickly, and awkwardly, Effie straddling him—on one of the deck chairs. Afterward she stood naked against the porch railing, looking out at the yard, while in the afterglow Henry lay back admiring her, trying to tamp down the feeling that he was inadequate. She looked like a marble statue in the moonlight. “The air feels amazing,” she said. “Doesn’t it feel amazing?”

On her request he went inside to put ice into their glasses, to temper the nearly undrinkable mixture of gin and dry vermouth they’d made, and he liked the feel of his nakedness, his half-erect penis hanging in the open air, while he went about this little domestic task—opening the freezer, chipping a few shards off the block, dropping them into their drinks, swirling the ice around.

When he went back outside, Effie was no longer on the porch. He whispered her name, and her voice came back from far away: “Out here.”

She was a white ghost down on the lawn. Henry laughed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Come down here,” she said. “It’s exciting.”

He walked down the porch steps and across the lawn to join her, the grass and fallen leaves soft on his feet, the cool air thrilling against his skin. In the moonlight Effie was vividly naked: the glowing white skin, the black patch between her legs, the black coins of her nipples. “You’re crazy,” he said, handing her drink to her.

“Who cares, if no one’s here to see us?”

He put his arms around her and pressed her body to his and kissed her neck. They were covered in goose bumps, they were laughing and shivering—an electric current was running through them. He took her hand and they made a circle around the yard. The tool shed lay mysterious in a dark bed of ivy. The line of silvery beech trees on one side of the yard, an old picket fence in need of repair on the other. In the neighboring yard stood a swing set, the rusty hinges singing, and the yard beyond it was crowded with thick trees. Against the light grass the shrubs and fence posts and lawn chairs became presences; he felt eyes upon him.

“Let’s walk around a little,” Effie whispered.

“Walk around?”