I like that quality people have of seeing things in a fascinating way. She remembered Walter Vail’s pointing out the odd way a passerby was walking or the wonderful archway on Pinckney Street. Each thing he’d singled out had taken on a particular, unusual quality.

With an eye, you mean, said Mike Higbee. He licked his lips thoughtfully, eyes ticking back and forth.

The next time they went out, a spring day boating on the Charles, Mike Higbee did not miss any opportunities to direct her attention to the many things which struck him.

He shook his head as one does at a coincidence. They were taking the tilted path down to the boathouse. Déjeuner sur l’herbe! he said. A little family group picnicking on the bank bore no resemblance whatsoever to Manet’s painting. Mike Higbee checked Lilian’s expression.

Lilian smiled politely, her social graces returning. The more she went out, the more she felt her boldness slipping from her and the old concern for convention returning. She had the feeling of being in a garden with a fence too high to see over.

Out on the water Mike Higbee waved toward Boston. Will you look at that? he said, controlling the tiller.

Lilian inclined her head. The clouds? The boats? The smokestacks? She was tired and perplexed.

Come on, he said. The view!

Ah, she said.

Mike Higbee nodded. Yes, he was getting the hang of it now. Lilian gazed down at the water moving glassily past the boat and wished she were in it, swimming away.

They walked through Harvard Square to a muffin shop he knew.

Great window, he said solemnly, indicating a nondescript brick building with a solitary square window in the attic floor. Lilian was unsure if he were addressing the fact of the window, its placement, or its shape, none of which was unusual.

At tea he pressed on, sensing nevertheless that he was losing ground. Suddenly he dropped all pretense and simply asked her why she didn’t like him better.

She looked down at her broken, uneaten muffin and told him there had been another boy. She wasn’t ready for a new one.

I’ll wait, Mike Higbee said, and folded his short arms across his chest.

She who thought persistence an admirable trait here found it most annoying.

I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, she said.

And yet the moment she spoke of it a quiet pressure of hope moved through her and she saw for the first time there was a slight opening ahead — not with Mike Higbee — but with someone.

Mike Higbee, however, was seeing just the opposite, no hope at all. I’m sorry for that, he said, and his lower lip covered his upper one.

Not wanting to watch someone feel pain on her behalf, Lilian excused herself and took refuge for a short time in the ladies’ lounge.

19 • Some shocking news

19 • Some shocking news