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at the suggestion that she and Bill were on good terms. "You're right," she said, in a voice as cool as his had been.

"I'll call Jack and let you know." Cameron got up. "Keep the list if you like; I can get another. Oh—I almost forgot. I've found a couple of guys who will dig out that ruin in the woods if you're still interested."

"I'm interested," Peggy said. "Not before next week, though."

"Let me know the day and I'll have them there."

"What's your hurry?" Peggy asked amiably. "We're going out to dinner before long; care to join us?"

"I'm afraid I can't. Thanks anyway."

"Scared to be seen in public with the person who scandalized the haut monde today?"

Again Peggy's sledgehammer tactics had the desired effect. Cameron's face registered shock and then reluctant amusement. He leaned against the door, hands in his pockets. "I hope you don't think I'm that much of a social coward."

"You heard about the speech, then," Karen said.

"Miz Fowler was on the phone as soon as she got home," Cameron admitted. "I found three messages on my answering machine."

"So you rushed over here to defuse the situation," Peggy said. "How gallant."

Cameron shifted his shoulders and looked uncomfortable. "I was going to bring the list over anyhow. Miz Fowler was lying in wait for me. She gave me an earful, all right. But she never had any intention of kicking you out, if that's what you're afraid of."

" 'Afraid' is hardly the word," Karen said sharply.

"I beg your pardon." He straightened and took his hands out of his pockets. "It was the wrong word. As I pointed out to her, you can easily find another apartment, and I have a feeling that her disapproval isn't going to worry you much. That's all she can do—disapprove."

"I know."

"Good. I'll let you know about the viewing."

He closed the door very quietly behind him.

"Why do you have to do that?" Peggy demanded.

"Do what?"

"Just when I've got him nice and relaxed and making friendly gestures, you respond with a verbal slap in the face."

"I'm tired of people reassuring me and protecting me. I'm a grown person, who is perfectly capable—"

Peggy interrupted with an emphatic Anglo-Saxon expletive. "Why don't you drop-kick those flowers across the room while you're at it? I don't give a damn how you feel about men in general and those two in particular; but from a practical point of view your behavior is, to say the least, counterproductive. What's the sense of antagonizing people—male or female—who could be useful to you?"

"I don't dislike men in general! Simon—"

"Is old enough to be your grandfather. Safe, in other words. What are you afraid of?"

"The conventional answer is, 'Of being hurt again.' " Karen's lips curved in a self-derisory smile. "That's what Sharon thinks; that the failure of my marriage made me wary of 'intimate relationships.' "

"She could be right."

"That's too simplistic," Karen said, sighing. "Norman didn't hurt me. He honestly believed, and believes to this day, that treating me like an adorable dim-witted child was what I needed and wanted. That didn't hurt me; it just drove me crazy! Compared to many women who have been abused physically, mentally and emotionally, I got off easy, but I'm not ready to jump into another potential disaster. Why the hell should I be in a hurry? But you are absolutely right, it's stupid to antagonize Cameron and even stupider to let Bill get to me. I'm sorry. This has not been one of my better days."

Peggy's sour face relaxed. "It's been quite a day, all right. Have a drink and then we'll go someplace for dinner. Someplace far, far away."

Before they left, Karen had a chance to practice what she had promised. When the telephone rang she went reluctantly to answer it; she had braced herself for reproaches from her landlady, but she wasn't looking forward to the conversation. It was almost a relief to hear Bill Meyer's voice.

"Thank you for the flowers," she said, in a sugary-sweet voice, making a face at Peggy. "They're lovely."

"You got them? I just wanted to be certain. And to reiterate my admiration. I wouldn't have had the guts to stand up in front of that crowd and stick to my guns."

"Yes, you would have," Karen said. "You're an inspiration to us all, Bill."

Peggy frowned and shook her head, but Meyer wasn't annoyed by the sarcasm. He laughed. "I don't suppose you'd let me take you out to dinner."

"Sorry, we've made plans. Some other time?"

After she had hung up she turned to Peggy. "How was that?"

"Not bad. I take it he asked you out tonight?"

"Uh-huh. I suppose you'll say I should have accepted, but I just couldn't face it. Not tonight."

"Honey, I'm not suggesting you go to bed with him. Just be polite."

There was another call as they were preparing to leave.

"Lisa?" Karen repeated, surprised. "No, you're not interrupting anything. We were just about to go out to dinner, but there's no hurry . . . Really? Yes, of course. When? . . . Fine, we'll see you then."

"She's just happened to run across something else we might want to see?" Peggy said, as Karen replaced the phone.

"Good guess."

"It wasn't a guess, it was almost a certainty. She's going to produce her wares a little at a time, you just watch."

"She's going out to dinner; suggested we come by around nine-thirty. I assume that's all right."

"Sure. Though it will probably be a waste of time. She's not ready to produce the good stuff yet."

Peggy was, as she pointed out, absolutely right. Lisa's offering consisted of a few books, which she doled out one at a time.

"They're old," Lisa pointed out. "You said you wanted old things."

The comment was unnecessary; it was obvious that the books were old, and most were in wretched condition. The bindings had once been handsome, fine morocco and calf heavily tooled in gold, but the leather was crumbling and the transparent tape patching the pages had only worsened their condition.

After leafing through one of the

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