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ever be good enough for you, Elaine.”
    â€œOther women are more easily satisfied, are they?”
    â€œI don’t know . . . I don’t even know what we’re talking about, money or sex.”
    â€œYou know I never discuss sex,” she said stiffly.
    â€œThen it must be money. Is that what you want, Elaine? Money?”
    â€œAll I want is for our family to be together, to have a decent home life, with warmth and affection.”
    â€œI’d like that, too.” But he knew that what Elaine meant by warmth and affection was not what he meant. To Elaine, warmth was gay conversation in front of the fireplace after dinner, and affection was a quick hug or a peck on the cheek, and, “ Not now, Gordon, the children might still be awake —” or it was getting late, or she was tired, or she thought she heard the baby stirring upstairs or a prowler out in the yard.
    She stood twisting her wedding ring, pulling it up over the second joint of her finger and pushing it back again. Up and over, over and down, with the diamonds glittering like tears. “What a lovely scene this has been, eh, Gordon? And what a charming couple we make. Somebody called us that once—remember?—a complete stranger said it when we were walking down Main Street on a Saturday night.”
    â€œI think that’s what you really want out of life—to be one half of a charming couple walking down Main Street on a Saturday night.”
    â€œI don’t know what you mean. All I know is that this whole argument started because I made a simple little request. I wanted you to take the children to the beach like any normal father.”
    â€œSorry,” he said with a wry smile. “I’m feeling a little abnormal today.”
    â€œIs that meant to be a joke?”
    â€œI guess so.”
    â€œWell, it’s not funny. You have been acting abnormal recently—losing all that money on a horse race last week, going for those long walks alone every night, drinking down in that awful café and staying so late I have to phone you to come home.”
    â€œI like to walk. And I drink coffee, almost exclu­sively.”
    â€œThere’s coffee at home.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut you prefer to go down there.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhy?”
    He had a sudden impulse to tell her the real reason but the impulse went lame before it could move. He knew he would never have the nerve to tell her even half of the truth. “Gomez is an old patient of mine. I feel obliged to patronize him.”
    â€œVery considerate of you.”
    â€œBesides, when I go for a walk I like to have some kind of destination. Gomez’s place is just the right distance.”
    â€œDoes anyone ever see you in there?”
    â€œIf they look around, I imagine they see me. Why?”
    â€œThe place seems awfully low class. I wouldn’t want any of our friends to see you there.”
    â€œAny real doctors, you mean?”
    â€œI didn’t say that.”
    â€œWell, I’ll make you a promise, Elaine. If I ever see any real doctor coming in the front door I’ll sneak out through the kitchen.”
    He expected her to get angry or at least to accuse him of sarcasm. She did neither. “Thank you, Gordon,” she said calmly. “That will be very kind of you.”
    â€œElaine, before you go, I’d like to ask you one ques­tion.”
    â€œAsk it.”
    â€œHow did you first find out I went down to Gomez’s place?”
    â€œYou can’t keep a secret in this town. Only a fool would try.”
    â€œYou’re sure I have secrets?”
    â€œYour face is crawling with them.”
    Hazel had come in the back door but they were too en­grossed in the quarrel to notice her. They stood in the hot, dark little hall, eyeing each other like fighters planning the next, the most devastating blow.
    â€œPardon me,” Hazel said.
    They both turned and