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considered the question for a minute, her eyes narrowing in concentration. “I guess I don’t think much about right and wrong,” she admitted. “If I go out with a man, I just let things happen.”
    â€œLet them happen? How do you mean?”
    â€œWell, if I go out with a man and I have a good time, I’ll go up to his apartment or out parking with him in his car. I let him kiss me, and if I enjoy the way he kisses me I let him go farther. And as long as there’s nothing bothersome about it, I just let it go on.”
    â€œDon’t you ever feel that it’s wrong?”
    Lizzie shook her head. “I don’t feel that way about it,” she said. “If I have a good time with a man, how should it be wrong? Neither of us is getting hurt or anything like that. We aren’t hurting anybody else either. I just don’t think anything nice between two people can be wrong, Mrs. Macon.”
    â€œI see. Do you believe in God, Lizzie?”
    â€œOf course, Mrs. Macon.”
    â€œWell, doesn’t that change the way you feel?”
    â€œNo—why should it? I just think God wants people to be good to each other, and sleeping with a man isn’t hurting anybody, is it?”
    Carla nodded absently, wondering how to say more without giving herself away. She took another long drag on the cigarette and watched the smoke drift lazily to the ceiling.
    â€œLizzie,” she said finally, “what if one of the persons is married to somebody else? Would that make a difference?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Lizzie said. Slowly a puzzled look came over her face, and Carla thought for a second that the girl had an inkling of the purpose of all the questions. She decided to end the conversation before revealing too much.
    â€œI guess that’s all,” Carla said, standing up from the table. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I just wanted to chat a little. It’s always interesting to find out how different people feel about things,” she added lamely.
    The puzzled expression vanished and there was no trace of perception on Lizzie’s face as she said, “Certainly, Mrs. Macon. Any time you want to ask me about anything, just go right ahead.”
    Back in her bedroom, Carla went over the conversation in her mind. If only she had Lizzie’s attitude, things would be so much easier. She could imagine how the girl would handle herself in a situation like this one. First of all, she’d be clever enough to avoid getting so desperate that she would have to root around on a grease-room floor like some kind of animal. She’d do the sensible thing and get herself a lover, a man like Charles but not a person her husband knew. She’d be smart about it, and she’d be able to make Ronald a good wife without torturing herself in the process.
    She giggled suddenly, getting a mental picture of Ronald’s face if he could know about the affair with the garage mechanic. She tried to guess how he would react to the sight of her writhing on the floor in the man’s embrace, her sweat mingling with his and her lips on his throat.
    Oh, what was the matter with her? Maybe she had sex on the brain, just as some people had water on the knee. She wasn’t sex-starved any more, not after yesterday, but she still couldn’t get Charles out of her mind. She imagined being married to Charles instead of to Ronald. Charles was rich too, but he would be able to give her the satisfaction that Ronald couldn’t supply. She would still possess the necessary prestige and security without any of the great disadvantages of being the wife of an older man.
    Being married to Charles would solve everything.
    But she was dreaming. She wasn’t making any sense at all, getting off on tangents that had nothing to do with the situation. For all she knew, Charles wasn’t even interested in getting her into bed. Maybe she was reading far too much into a