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if only for one night, to discuss our relationship.”
    â€œDo you?” he said in an infuriatingly mild voice. “Ihave to meet with mall security at nine, but I can come by after that to . . . discuss our relationship.”
    The Kappa Kitten licked its lips. “That’s too late. We need to leave for the cabin no later than six o’clock. We can’t discuss anything when Caron might barge in with some new scheme to make her first million. I don’t understand why you can’t tell Jorgeson or somebody to meet with the mall cops.”
    â€œBecause I can’t. Listen, if you’re so frantic to go to the cabin, let me call my buddy and see if we can use it this weekend. We can have a couple of lazy, peaceful days to discuss whatever it is that you find so urgent, and Caron won’t have the slightest idea how to find us.”
    â€œThen you refuse to go today?” I asked coolly.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with this weekend?”
    â€œNothing at all. I suggest you warn Jorgeson to stock up on bug spray. I’m sure he’ll be great company for you in the brass bed!” I slammed down the receiver, and when it rang seconds later, I grabbed the feather duster and stalked around the counter to attack the classics with serious dedication.

3
    â€œWelcome to Kappa Theta Eta, Mrs. Malloy,” said the girl who must have been hovering just inside the doorway of the house. I’d seen her the night before, but only briefly before she and the one I now knew as Pippa had retreated. She was a beautiful girl, with waist-length black hair, deep blue eyes, dramatically sculpted cheekbones, and a dusky complexion that hinted of exotic forebears. “I’m Rebecca Faulkner,” she continued in the mellifluous voice of a well-trained singer. “It’s so kind of you to accept our invitation, and I’d love to show you the house.”
    â€œIs Caron here?” I said as I forced myself to step over the threshold of a residence that produced pink paper cats with the efficiency of a factory line.
    â€œShe’s in Pippa’s room.” Rebecca took off like a tour guide, and I followed like a tourist plagued with blisters. I admired the foyer and the living room, which were the only rooms in which men were permitted, and then the lounge, the dining room (apparently busboys were a subspecies), the door to the kitchen, and a short hallway lined with closed doors. All of it was decorated in pink, since, as Rebecca told me, their official colors were pink and white. I was not surprised. I subsequently learned that their official flower was a pink rose, their official mascot the beloved Katie the Kappa Kitten, and their official chapter name Delta Delta. Fearing I was on the verge of learning the brand of their official toothpaste, I declined an invitation to explore the two upper floors and asked to speak to Caron.
    â€œBut we haven’t been to Winkie’s suite,” Rebeccasaid, visibly dismayed by my presumptuous intrusion into the itinerary. “All guests have to be formally introduced to the housemother. It’s a rule from National. I escort you to her suite and introduce you, then you and she come to the dining room together.” She looked over her shoulder nervously, as if a spy from National might be lurking in a corner, grimly recording this unseemly deviation from procedure. “Then you’ll have a chance to meet Katie, Mrs. Malloy. Don’t you want to meet Katie in person?”
    I did not point out the oxymoronic reality that one does not meet an animal in person, nor did I mention my animosity toward the species. It was clear to me by now that there was no hope of winning a battle, or even a minor skirmish, with an organization that dictated the color of the toilet seats.
    â€œBy all means, then,” I said, “let’s visit Katie.”
    Rebecca led me across the foyer and knocked on a door. “Mrs. Malloy is