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with for so many years. Now he knew they preferred the dark-headed boys, and in truth he was embarrassed by their callow ways, which more and more reminded him of his own growing daughter. Norman was an almost habitual philanderer; but since his heart attack he had behaved himself, mainly for medical reasons.
     
     
Cohn said, "Listen, Norm, I took another look at that fish. It's a hefty beast. Have dinner with us."
     
     
Paperman shook his head. "Three's a crowd. Thanks."
     
     
The slight curl in Mrs. Tramm's mouth deepened. She said in a theatrically sexy voice, "Bob, don't you want to be alone with me?"
     
     
Cohn grinned. "It's a good fish. Why should the waitresses get most of it?"
     
     
"He's afraid of me," Mrs. Tramm said to Paperman. "Imagine. An undersea warrior like that."
     
     
The bartender put two frosty glasses before them, and poured. Paperman picked up his glass. "Let's toast the undersea warrior. I might be under the sea right now if he hadn't come along and pulled me out this morning."
     
     
"Oh hell, Norm, you were just having a little trouble with your mask."
     
     
Mrs. Tramm lifted her glass. "Fortunate encounters."
     
     
"Fortunate encounters," said Cohn and Paperman. The glance Mrs. Tramm gave Paperman over the rim of her glass shook him, though it only showed appraising curiosity.
     
     
She said, "So help me, a real martini. Lovely. Look, why don't you help us eat that fish? Since Bob seems to fear I might eat him."
     
     
Paperman looked at the frogman, and said, "Well, Mrs. Tramm, I don't know-the inducement, you both understand, would be the fish."
     
     
Mrs. Tramm did a startling thing. She popped her eyes, sucked in her cheeks, and gave a couple of goggling gasps, in a very fair imitation of a fish. It went by in a moment, her face resumed its peculiar curling smile, and both men were laughing hard.
     
     
"I believe this is one evening," said Mrs. Tramm, "when I will step off what passes with me for a wagon, and have two martinis. We won't count that lumpy oatmeal I was drinking when Norman arrived."
     
     
"We're having wine, too, Iris," Cohn said.
     
     
"Sweetie, we're having something wet, nasty, and furry in a bottle.
     
     
There isn't a wine in the world that can travel to this island." She turned to Paperman. "It's a scientific mystery. Guadeloupe's just over the horizon. You can see it from Government House. The wine there's excellent. The Caribbean's not 'to blame. What is it?"
     
     
"I know about that. It's like thunderstorms and milk," Paperman said. "It happens in all latitudes and climates, and there's no accounting for it. The American flag turns wine sour."
     
     
Mrs. Tramm choked over her martini, and laughed with sudden gusto. "My God, that's marvelous. I've even drunk wine in American consulates, Norman. It's absolutely true. Outside the gates glorious wines, inside vinegar. Before you buy the Reef talk to the governor, won't you? Make it a neutral enclave for wine drinkers."
     
     
"Who says I'm buying the Reef?"
     
     
"My friend, in Kinja everybody knows everything about everybody at once. You're a front for a billionaire who was on the cover of Time, and he's going to put up a thirty-five-story hotel. The Sheraton Kinja, or something." Paperman laughed and shrugged at these absurdities. Mrs. Tramm continued, "What's going on in the New York theatre right about now? I haven't been up there since April."
     
     
To this cue Norman rose like a trout taking a fly, and he held forth with inside Broadway gossip and the new Sardi's jokes until they went to dinner. Norman was a fine raconteur. It was a delight for him to talk smartly over martinis to a shining-eyed pretty woman who laughed in cascades at his jokes. The young frogman sat and listened with a good-natured smile, looking rather out of it.
     
     
The great red fish, which arrived baked whole on a board, had an exquisite flavor, and despite the jesting the white wine was pleasant enough.