"You seem so--oh, it would sound silly."
"Let's have it, anyway."
"So--sort of--_guilty_."
He picked up the cigarette before it burned the cloth. "What kind
of--Well, I like that. Of all the silly observations!" He shook his
head vexedly.
"Ted, why don't you look at me? Ted, you _did_ go right to bed, last
night?"
He looked at her, his chin tilted pugnaciously. "No, I went to Venus
and met a blonde. Of course I went to bed."
"Well, what are you so nervous about? Heavens, it wasn't that little
spat we had, or _you_ had, rather, about your going to work?"
"No, no, no. You're imagining things, Ann."
"Look at your hand. Look how it's trembling. Ted--what is the matter?"
"Nothing. I had a dream. Ann, I don't want to talk about it."
"Drinking," she said. "It's those drinks you had, yesterday, I'll bet.
You're just not a drinking man, Theodore Truesdale, and you're too old
to begin."
"I'm _not_ old. You know I'm not old. You wish I were, but I'm not. Do
we always have to quarrel?"
She didn't answer. Her lips quavered, but she didn't cry. She rose and
carried a few dishes to the sink.
Ted went out to the porch with his coffee and cigarette. The view was
unpopulated. Conscience, he told himself. My annoyance is an indication
of it. Why should my conscience bother me because of a dream? Who can
stop a dream?
There was a scratching sound from the other side of the nutmeg tree and
the inverted head of Hamilton appeared about ten feet above the tree's
base.
"You don't look happy."
Ted didn't answer.
Hamilton came down the remaining ten feet and went over to look at the
geraniums. "Fine gardener, your wife."
Ted ignored him.
"Good looking, too. Maybe she could dye her hair."
No words from Ted.
Hamilton looked down at the house below, and back at Ted. "Don't blame
me for that Venus trip, Truesdale. You wanted it, but bad."
"I'm not blaming anybody for anything," Ted said. "Just because I had a
dream."
"Dream? Why don't you go down and ask her if she had the same dream?
What a man won't say to clear his conscience! Let go, Truesdale, enjoy
yourself."
* * * * *
Below, the blonde came out onto her patio. She was wearing white shorts
and halter today. She looked Ted's way for seconds--and then waved.
Ted waved back.
"Beautiful morning," she called, and Ted answered, "It certainly is."
She picked up a book from the low table near her chaise lounge and
settled.
Hamilton was sniffing the ice plant on the slope. "If the neighbors
only knew--"
"There's nothing to know. She'd be less than human if she didn't say
'hello' after seeing me day after day."
"Not to mention one night."
"Oh, cut it out, drop it."