To say that it’s been fun would be to insult both of us. I’ll cherish it as long as I live. But we had an agreement that if either of us wanted out, it was all over. And I’m afraid I need out, very badly. I’ve wanted to break this off for some time but hadn’t had the courage to tell you to your face. Don’t think too harshly of me. But think of me sometimes. Have a wonderful life, Doctor Darling.

Gaby

He sat on the sofa and reread the note and then he telephoned the psychiatrist at the Beth Israel, who could tell him nothing.

He saw how little she had taken. Her books were here. The television set, the record player. Her sun lamp. Everything. Only her clothes and suitcase were gone.

In a little while he called Susan Haskell and asked her if Gaby was there.

“No.”

“If you hear from her, will you let me know?”

There was a pause. “I don’t think so.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s left you, hasn’t she?” There was triumph in her voice. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me like this. Well, if she comes here you won’t hear about it from me.”

She hung up on him, but she didn’t matter, Gaby hadn’t been there. He thought for a little while longer and then picked up the phone again and dialed the university.

When the switchboard operator answered, he asked her to give him the student health service.

He borrowed Spurgeon’s Volks and by the time he drove it lumbering over the Sagamore Bridge he was afraid of what he would find when he got out of the car. Once he passed Hyannis he kept his foot on the floor, driving the way she drove. It was too early in the season for traffic and the highway was almost empty of cars. In North Truro he swung the bus off Rte. 6, drove down the narrow macadam road and then, praying, just after sighting the Light turned onto the sand road that led to the beach.

When the Volks topped the rise he saw that the blue Plymouth was parked by the door.

The cabin was unlocked but deserted. He left it and walked the path to the cliff. From the high lip he could see the white beach below for miles in either direction, wind-scoured and covered with the jetsam of winter storms. The sandbar was missing. There was nobody in sight.

There were whitecaps, as far out as he could see.

Could she be somewhere out there, below the surface of the water? He pushed the thought from his mind.