In a few minutes she carried her cup to the sink. “I’m going to call him now,” she said. “I want you to hear.” He sat still, not believing that he had understood, until she turned to him. “Come on.” He followed her to the telephone. “You won’t have to hear his voice,” she said. “Only mine.” She had to wait after dialing. “Hello? It’s me, that’s right. I told him what happened and we’ve talked it over.… Yes, just now. I don’t want to see you again.… Yes, I do mean it. It’s final.” She listened a moment. “No, it’s final.” She took the receiver with both hands. “It’s not your business. It never was. I don’t want to be cruel with you, but it’s true. I was wrong—no, I won’t say your name.… Yes, he’s standing right here, but it’s just that I don’t want to say it. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.… I understand that, and I appreciate your concern.” She was quiet. “All right, goodbye. I wish you the same.… That’s childish.… I’m sorry if it hurt you, but you knew a year ago that you could get hurt.… That’s your opinion.… That’s right, goodbye.” She put down the telephone. “Joe, I’m sorry.”

“No more for a while. Please.”

“I told you it started in May. He was involved long before I was. When you were home I wasn’t even aware of it.”

He didn’t answer.

“Are you hungry? I’ll fix you something.”

“All right. Call me when it’s ready.” He sat down, not like a guest, but a man come home from a graveside.

He had said he would think, but he did not know what to think about. There were many things that he would have to learn and face, if he was going to stay. He wanted to stay; even if he could not tell her properly, she knew it. The call settled nothing; it could be undone with another call. She might not think that both men could see it that way. He did not want to face the fact that she had slept with someone else, but she had acknowledged on the telephone that she had talked in a way that was worse. The thoughts multiplied each other so that the core of the pain and shock extended and penetrated to the palms of his hands and the tips of his fingers. She came into the room with a sandwich and a glass of milk. She put them on the table beside the chair and sat down before him. She pressed her cheek to his knee.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No, Karen. Get up.”