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classic couple.
    But after a month in their new apartment, she knew that they had, unknowingly although in full view of themselves, stepped in exactly the opposite direction to that which they thought they were choosing. The question of marriage, which was never openly spoken about but which permeated their psychic and emotional atmosphere, and served as a barometer which indicated and forecast cycles in their relationship, lost its flexibility and play; it ceased being an issue which served largely as a frequency upon which to pass communications, and became a weapon which glowed dully in the corner, waiting to be used in one way or the other. Aaron's energetic ennui, which he hoped to sublimate into the ritual of social acquiescence, blossomed into a burning restlessness; and Cynthia's doubts about her condition as a woman materialised into small volatile acts of secret sabotage. She had never told Aaron about the phone call.
    'When I withhold something from him, and he doesn't know I'm doing it, it makes me feel he's extremely stupid,' she thought.
    'Fanatics are just people who take themselves seriously,' said Conrad, picking up the thread of Aaron's line which best served as a springboard for beginning a rap which interested him. 'After all, what's the difference between Lee Harvey Oswald and the Pope? They share the same ruthless conformity to the rigidity of an ideal, and all their sentiment to the side, have no actual concern for the damage their behaviour does to any life around them. Each serves a private solipsistic God.'
    Aaron, who had been raised a Jew, bridled at the comparison. His years of religious conditioning still operated inside him, and while he could show the entire Roman position to be bankrupt in a rational conversation, his emotions still reacted with the reflexes that had been trained into them. 'I suppose we have to include the Weathermen in that group, then,' he said, once again argumentative.
    But with the grace of a master in aikido, Conrad used the momentum of Aaron's thrust to throw the attacker off balance. 'Unless you accept the possibility that at least some of them are acting not out of principle but out of necessity. That they blow up banks for the same reason you breathe air. If they didn't, they would die.'
    'It's interesting how you always find winning rationalisations for the actions of your friends, and deny the same niceness to those you think are your enemies.'
    'A paranoid has to be good to his friends,' said Conrad. 'They're all he has to rely on, in the whole universe.'
    'Oh, Conrad!' said Cynthia, her voice warm with tenderness, her heart touched by the sudden insight she had into the profound loneliness of the boy in front of her, so young, so brilliant, so terribly balanced. She needed to go to him and put his head between her breasts, for just then, and for a long time; what he lacked was the woman who would be his mother, the mother that for all the common complicated reasons he was not able to love when he was a child. 'He just needs to be held, that's all,' she thought.
    But she projected into the future, wondered about Aaron's reaction, about what it would feel like to have Conrad's face pressed into her, and she checked her impulse. Conrad looked into the other man's eyes. 'Who are your friends, man?'
    The question was like the golden ring one grabs for on the carousel. It was not the acquisition of the hoop that was important, it was the strength and steadiness necessary to reach for it that made the experience worthy. With unaccustomed candour Aaron replied, 'I don't think I have any friends. I was close to some people when I was young, but we grew up in separate directions. They all stayed back East, married the girls next door. I had three or four engagements, but none lasted. I went into therapy, found out a lot about my fears, and decided not to try to fight them any longer by exposing myself to the situations which gave rise to them. I decided to travel, saved