e；　I　guess。〃

And　then　he　had　said　an　odd　thing。　She　had　expected　to　discover　his　anger；　to

provoke　the　bitterness；　the　recriminations。　She　had　expected　a　mad　dash　for　the

liquor　cabinet。　But　not　this　soft；　almost　toneless　reply　that　was　so　unlike　him。

It　was　almost　as　though　the　Jack　she　had　lived　with　for　six　years　had　never　e

back　last　night　—　as　if　he　had　been　replaced　by　some　unearthly　doppelganger　that

she　would　never　know　or　be　quite　sure　of。

〃Would　you　do　something　for　me？　A　favor？〃

〃What？〃　She　had　to　discipline　her　voice　strictly　to　keep　it　from　trembling。

〃Let's　talk　about　it　in　a　week。　If　you　still　want　to〃

And　she　had　agreed。　It　remained　unspoken　between　them。　During　that　week　he　had

seen　Al　Shockley　more　than　ever；　but　he　came　home　early　and　there　was　no　liquor

on　his　breath。　She　imagined　she　smelled　it；　but　knew　it　wasn't　so。　Another　week。

And　another。

Divorce　went　back　to　mittee；　unvoted　on。

What　had　happened？　She　still　wondered　and　still　had　not　the　slightest　idea。

The　subject　was　taboo　between　them。　He　was　like　a　man　who　had　leaned　around　a

corner　and　had　seen　an　unexpected　monster　lying　in　wait；　crouching　among　the

dried　bones　of　its　old　kills。　The　liquor　remained　in　the　cabinet；　but　he　didn't

touch　it。　She　had　considered　throwing　them　out　a　dozen　times　but　in　the　end

always　backed　away　from　the　idea；　as　if　some　unknown　charm　would　be　broken　by

the　act。

And　there　was　Danny's　part　in　it　to　consider。

If　she　felt　she　didn't　know　her　husband；　then　she　was　in　awe　of　her　child　—　awe

in　the　strict　meaning　of　that　word：　a　kind　of　undefined　superstitious　dread。

Dozing　lightly；　the　image　of