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do?”
    Her life had been made up of disappointments, she told him, looking into her glass, most of them the result of foolishly falling in love. Going out with an older man just because he was wearing a white suit in Nashville which was where she was from. Agreeing to marry George Christie while they were sailing off the coast of Maine. “I don’t know where to get the money,” she said, “or how.”
    She glanced up. She found him looking at her, without haste. The lights were coming on in buildings surrounding the park, in the streets, on homeward bound cars. They talked as evening fell. They went out to dinner.
    At Christmas that year Alan and his wife broke up. “You’re kidding,”Frank said. He’d moved into a new place with thick towels and fine carpets. In the foyer was a Biedermeier desk, black, tan, and gold. Across the street was a private school.
    Alan was staring out the window which was as cold as the side of a ship. “I don’t know what to do,” he said in despair. “I don’t want to get divorced. I don’t want to lose my daughter.” Her name was Camille. She was two.
    “I know how you feel,” Frank said.
    “If you had a kid, you’d know.”
    “Have you seen this?” Frank asked. He held up the alumni magazine. It was the fifteenth anniversary of their graduation. “Know any of these guys?”
    Five members of the class had been cited for achievement. Alan recognized two or three of them. “Cummings,” he said, “he was a zero—elected to Congress. Oh, God, I don’t know what to do.”
    “Just don’t let her take the apartment,” Frank said.
    Of course, it wasn’t that easy. It was easy when it was someone else. Nan Christie had decided to get married. She brought it up one evening.
    “I just don’t think so,” he finally said.
    “You love me, don’t you?”
    “This isn’t a good time to ask.”
    They lay silently. She was staring at something across the room. She was making him feel uncomfortable. “It wouldn’t work. It’s the attraction of opposites,” he said.
    “We’re not opposites.”
    “I don’t mean just you and me. Women fall in love when they get to know you. Men are just the opposite. When they finally know you they’re ready to leave.”
    She got up without saying anything and began gathering her clothes. He watched her dress in silence. There was nothing interesting about it. The funny thing was that he had meant to go on with her.
    “I’ll get you a cab,” he said.
    “I used to think that you were intelligent,” she said, half to herself. Exhausted, he was searching for a number. “I don’t want a cab. I’m going to walk.”
    “Across the park?”
    “Yes.” She had an instant glimpse of herself in the next day’s paper. She paused at the door for a moment. “Good-bye,” she said coolly.
    She wrote him a letter which he read several times. Of all the loves I have known, none has touched me so. Of all the men, no one has given me more . He showed it to Alan who did not comment.
    “Let’s go out and have a drink,” Frank said.
    They walked up Lexington. Frank looked carefree, the scarf around his neck, the open topcoat, the thinning hair. “Well, you know …” he managed to say.
    They went into a place called Jack’s. Light was gleaming from the dark wood and the lines of glasses on narrow shelves. The young bartender stood with his hands on the edge of the bar. “How are you this evening?” he said with a smile. “Nice to see you again.”
    “Do you know me?” Frank asked.
    “You look familiar,” the bartender smiled.
    “Do I? What’s the name of this place, anyway? Remind me not to come in here again.”
    There were several other people at the bar. The nearest of them carefully looked away. After a while the manager came over. He had emerged from the brown-curtained back. “Anything wrong, sir?” he asked politely.
    Frank looked at him. “No,” he said, “everything’s fine.”
    “We’ve had a big day,” Alan