Neither of them wanted to go out. It was cozy and warm in the apartment, and with the good dinner and the fine Scotch one could become expansive and loosen one’s tongue to say what mattered. The problem that obsessed Terry was how she was going to overcome the unavoidable overtures he would make. She hoped for once that she would handle him successfully, regardless of what that might mean. She was resigned to surrendering herself to him ultimately, but then only once, after her career was assured.

12

12

Terry sat on the divan and Colin sat on the floor, bohemian fashion. Before settling down that way he had taken the precaution of drawing up his trousers at the knees, thus preserving the crease. Terry wondered how many years of wealth it took to make some men lose the habits they had cultivated in the days when pennies counted. Colin looked up at her, filling his eyes with adoration like a worshipful St. Bernard.

“You look a little tired, darling,” he said in what he thought was a suavely sympathetic voice. “It can’t detract from your loveliness, though. It makes you look like a Madonna.”

“Really, Jack?”

“Really. But—you know something? I think I like you just a little less spiritual.”

She forced a laugh. “I’ll try, Jack,” she said. “How would a handspring or two do to revive the spirit of youth in me?”

He smiled obscenely. His eyes twinkled. “I know some better ways.”

“I’ll bet you do.”

“They involve two players.”

“Count this one out.”

“Why don’t you want to play my games?”

“I guess I’m a spoilsport at heart.”

He looked at her reproachfully. In a hurt, whining voice he said, “I don’t understand. Is there anything wrong with me, Terry?” Was she really important to him to make him come down from the heights of his egotism that way, she wondered, or was this only a routine part of the act, a bit of business to bring into play when the more high-handed methods failed?

“Something wrong with you?” she said quietly. “Not that I know of, Jack.”

He got up from the floor and sat down on the divan beside her. They were on dangerous ground once again, she knew.

“Then why do you give me the runaround this way?” he asked softly. “I’ve had a hell of a time over you, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way. It’s like there’s a wall between us. An invisible wall that I bang my head on every time I try to get near you.”