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souffle.”
    “You make me sound like a dessert,” Karen said, giggling, as she sat at the marble vanity table in the bathroom.
    “You look edible in that outfit. Unless I mistake my American adventurers, he’ll think so, too.”
    Linda brushed Karen’s black hair as Karen applied liner and mascara to her dark brown eyes and lipstick to her full mouth. Then Linda did Karen’s nails with the recently acquired polish, a Venezuelan brand named “ Tentacion ” in a shade called “ Rojo Prohibido ” (Forbidden Red). At last they realized it was ten minutes to eight, and Karen didn’t have any perfume.
    “Forget it,” Karen said. “I’ll do without it.”
    Linda was horrified. “You can’t see a heavy duty number like Colter and not wear any scent. It would be like leaving off your... skirt.”
    “Not quite, Linda.”
    “Stay right there,” she said to Karen as if the latter were about to take off for parts unknown. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
    She returned in seconds with an ornate bottle equipped with a glass atomizer. “I bought it this afternoon,” she said, displaying her treasure. “Eight hundred bolivares an ounce. Couldn’t resist it.”
    It seemed like Linda couldn’t resist much. She sprayed the air and Karen sniffed appreciatively.
    “What’s it called?” Karen asked.
    “ Encantadora ,” Linda replied. “Enchantress. Don’t you love it?”
    “It’s very nice.”
    “Hold out your hands,” Linda said.
    Karen obeyed, and she sprayed the back of Karen’s wrists, then behind her knees.
    “Won’t do to wear too much,” she said to Karen, putting down the bottle. “Can’t have you smelling like a Covent Garden tart.” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and grabbed her purse. “I must fly, don’t want to be here when he arrives. Though I would love to see him out of those tacky fatigues.”
    “I wonder what he looks like in a dinner jacket,” Karen said.
    “No, darling, out of the fatigues and out of everything, if you take my meaning,” Linda drawled.
    Karen laughed. “Linda, you’re awful.”
    “Yes, I know.” She hugged Karen briefly. “I haven’t had so much fun since I was at school. You look a perfect peach in that outfit. I only hope he doesn’t pass out at your feet when he sees you.” She went to the hall and called back as she left, “Tell me all about it in the morning.”
    Once Karen was left alone in her room she began to fidget. She opened the empty closet and threw all the wrappers and bags from her purchases onto the floor, slamming the door closed behind them. Out of sight, out of mind. She slipped her new lipstick and other cosmetics into the black embroidered envelope purse she was carrying and checked her hair in the mirror. It fell in a loose shining arc to her shoulders, and she patted it routinely. She was as attractive as she could make herself under such impromptu conditions, but she still felt the quivering of butterflies in her stomach, the attack of nerves that always presaged an important event in her life. She hadn’t realized until this moment how very much she wanted Steve Colter to respond to her. She’d never felt such an instant, total attraction to any other man, and the feeling both exhilarated and frightened her.
    The knock came at her door at two minutes after eight.
    “Who is it?” Karen called. Her voice sounded funny, trembly and uncertain. Annoyed, she resolved to steady it.
    “Colter,” came the response. By contrast he sounded cool and very sure of himself.
    She opened the door, and he froze on the threshold of her room, staring at her.
    “Wow,” he finally said, clearing his throat. “That’s quite a transformation.”
    “I could say the same of you,” Karen replied, pleased that he appreciated her efforts.
    He was dressed in an eggshell linen jacket with an off- white shirt, dark slacks, and a striped silk tie. His thick blond hair had been recently cut and styled, and he was clean shaven, shorn of the