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” He walked too close to a display of Mexican pottery ware and his coat sleeve brushed a large bowl, which toppled. She caught it in time.

“I’m a bull in a china closet,” he said.

She looked at him dreamily. “I bet when you were a little boy your mother always held you tightly by the hand when she took you into a store.”

He could have kissed her, and would have before everyone if a young man had not suddenly lost interest in a barbecue he was pricing and turned to admire her; and his pretty wife, catching him in the act, said, “No, George, I’m not going to buy you that even if it is your birthday.”

When she left work that afternoon, Greg was waiting to drive her home. She emerged carrying a potted begonia. “With my regrets – and D.C.‘s,” she said, handing it to him. “Clara Peabody.”

He inspected the plant with a critical eye. “I’ll accept your regrets but I don’t know about D.C.‘s. Are you sure he’s sin­cere about this?”

She laughed and, while he held the door, slid into the front seat. She asked solicitously about his bandaged arm. He pre­tended considerable pain but said, “It’s nothing. Nothing at all.” He asked then, “Are you positive he’s a cat? I mean, well, you know how they get babies mixed up in hospitals. Maybe he was a panther cub and they put the wrong tag on him.”

She sat close to him. “You know only one side of him.”

“You mean there’s another?”

“When he curls up in your lap and starts purring, you know that this little bit of life – “

He broke in. “Tell me, are we talking about the same cat? Little bit of life? Two hundred pounds of savage fury. And I’ve got an arm to prove it.”

“You’re so prejudiced. If you’d just try to like him

“

“I’ll try. Because nothing could be all bad that you love so much.”

As he drove, the world turned into a fairyland set to music. Even the traffic signals seemed to play a melody. She scarcely heard Greg talking. He was asking about going to the Cocoa-nut Grove at the Ambassador Saturday for the dinner show.

He said, “I’ve got something to celebrate. I got those kids together who wanted a divorce. They came into the office today and you should’ve seen their faces. They just needed somebody to crack their heads together and tell them it was time they were acting like adults.”

He asked then, “How about me bringing my duck over tonignt and you roasting it?”

She stalled, and reality, stark and stern, padded back in. He was immediately suspicious. “I promised Inky I’d go to a PTA meeting,” she lied and, having done so, felt the warmth in her cheeks.

“Tomorrow night then?”

“Could I let you know in the morning? The folks will be home this weekend and

now, Greg, don’t get excited. Don’t be so suspicious. I want to, you know that, even if nights do have a rather peculiar effect on you.”

He turned back the temper admirably, and even produced a half-hearted smile. As he let her out at her front door, they saw the tree movers cleaning up the last vestiges of the apri­cot they had cut down. “I’m sorry,” he said, “although frank­ly, I don’t think Blitzy had anything to do with it.”

She thanked him for the ride and said she would give him a ring the next morning. Crossing the sidewalk, she passed Mr. Macdougall, who gave her an old rake smile along with a greeting. We are all bounders together, the smile seemed to say. Hurrying up the walk, she shot a quizzical glance back­ward. What’s got into him, she wondered.

As Mr. Macdougall let himself into the living room, his wife looked up from the front window where she had been manning the outposts of decency. “Just look at her, all sweet innocence, and her with a man in her room again tonight, and her folks so nice.”

”Terrible, terrible,” Mr. Macdougall agreed.

“I don’t know what this generation’s coming to.”

“Same as the last. No good.”

“Wilbur!”

21

Humming to himself, Greg parked the car in the drive­way and walked around to inspect the front yard, which Mike was mowing.

“Nice job,” Greg said. He stripped three one-dollar bills from a roll he was carrying.

“My sister says I can take only a dollar,” Mike announced sorrowfully. “She says you’re trying to corrupt me and I should be ashamed. I thought she’d pat me on the back for being such a good businessman.” He added thoughtfully, “She should encourage me since I’ll probably have to take care of her in her old age.”

Greg said, “She’s a wonderful person, Mike.”

Mike grinned. “That’s what everybody tells me. Oh, well

“

Greg handed him the dollar. “We’ll see what we can do about fringe benefits. Maybe a movie now and then. Your sister couldn’t object. It’s all a part of modern business. You know, pensions, free aspirin, Blue Cross, free haircuts, paid vacations, free bail bonds, and, of course, free psychiatric service since everybody’s nuts these days.”