"Jake, I am not trying to force you. Nor am I trying to compromise you—"

"Eh? Me? It's your reputation I am thinking of. With your servants, at least."

(Why, the old hypocrite. Ask him about the time he crowded me into a cloak closet with Cunningham almost breathing down our necks. Go on, I dare you. Oh, he's a one, that one—courage under fire.) "Jake, that is sweet of you but I don't give a triple damn how my servants gossip in the kitchen. But I am able to protect you from gossip, sir. I have acquired the most conventional of Victorian chaperonage-a respectable lady's maid. She'll sleep just through that door, where Hubert used to sleep. If it frets you, she can always be present when you and I are together." (Hey, what is this? Trying to get Winnie into act? She might go for it—Jake won't. Watch it, dear.) (Qui kibitzing, Eunice.)

The lawyer raised his brows. "You've hired a maid already? Surprising. Though you never were one to dillydally. Or did you shift around part of your in-house staff?"

"Some of both, Jake. I anticipated that Dr. Garcia will insist on my having a trained nurse... so I persuaded one of the nurses to stay on, in both capacities. Winnie. You've seen her, the little redhead."

"Possibly I have."

(‘Possibly' he says. All you men are hypocrites. If he hasn't patted her butt, he's thought about it.)

"I'm lucky to get her. Intelligent. Educated. Able to teach me things I must know and, being a nurse, used to caring for people even more than a maid does. I used the usual argument—money—but I was careful to respect her professional pride; she'll still be my nurse, she'll lady's-maid me as a friendly favor. I think she may be in bed. But she would get up and chaperon us if asked. Shall I send for her?"

"What? Oh, don't be silly, Joan Eunice. You're making a mountain of a molehill."

"It seemed to me that you were, Jake. I do feel defenseless as a woman... even though I was far more vulnerable as a sick old man than I am now in this strong young body. But I feel safe with you present—and not at all safe when you are away. Jake, I can't urge you to live here... but can't you see what a favor it would be to me? As well as— How many rooms do you have at the Gib?"

"Two; Adequate for my needs."

"The rooms there aren't large... whereas the living room of the Green Suite is as large as this room. We could cut a door from it into the upstairs library and it could be your study. Move anything into it you need for my affairs or your own—plenty of room for files or books. Jake, I don't need this big mausoleum any more than you needed your house. But if I tried to sell it, I couldn't get ten percent of what it cost; I built it during the worst of the Riot Years and the cost doesn't show; it's a prettied-up fortress, stronger than police barracks. Well, we may have such years again; I may yet be glad I spared no expense. In the meantime it's big and safe and comfortable, and you might as well use it. When you wish, I mean, especially when you work on my affairs."

"Well, I have been working on some of your affairs here in the house. Uh, Joan Eunice, as your guardian, I had to take over management of your household."

"Hasn't Cunningham saved you from such picayune worries? I must speak to him."

"Well., yes, he has and I've let him go on, as before; I've made no changes. But I have had to look over the household books and authorize charges and confound it, they're stealing you blind. Cunningham especially."

"Good!"

"What's good about it?"

"Jake, you told me that it was impossible to spend my income. If my butler is black-marketing two-thirds of what he buys for me and pocketing the proceeds—and he always has—then he's anxious to keep his job. Which means that he has to please me. Jake, can you think of a cheaper way to buy the nearest thing to loyalty that can be bought? Let him steal. Do not bind the mouths of the kine who tread the grain. The good horse must always get his lump of sugar."

"Bad precedent. corrupts the country."

"The country is corrupt. But ‘it is the only game in town'; we have no choice. The problem is always how to live in a decadent society. Jake, I want you to live here. I hope you will live here. It will make me feel happy and safe for you to be under the same roof. But don't worry about my reputation—and Winnie is here to protect yours. Most certainly don't think about such trivia as household expenses; just close your eyes and sign. But don't hesitate to chew out Cunningham if the service is less than perfect; that's the price he must pay for the privilege of swindling me. By the way, my chief guard steals, too; I think he has a fifty-fifty split with Cunningham. I've never tried to find out the arrangement; it would embarrass them."

Salomon smiled. "Joan Eunice, for a young—and beautiful—woman, you sound. remarkably like a cynical old man I used to know."

"Do I, Jake dear? I must learn not to sound that way. I must now leave the ‘cynical old man' things to you and try to behave like a lady. If I can. But please don't disrupt a smooth household by trying to reform it—or it will wind up like a reform administration: less efficient and still more expensive. Didn't your servants steal from you?"

The lawyer looked sheepish. "Well...yes. But I had the best cook in Safe Harbor enclave. If I had fired her, I might have wound up with one just as expensive—who put sugar in gravy. I think I was groused that they were stealing from you—when you were helpless. But I didn't want to tamper with your household while there was any chance that you might recover. Wanted to hand it back as it was. And I have. Or shall."

"Thank you, Jake. At the moment, while I may not yet be a lady, I feel not at all like a cynical old man. I find that I feel like a woman who has been ill and is not yet fully recovered. I had best go to bed. Will you help me?"

"Uh, I'll call the nurse."

"Jake, Jake—this is the body I have; we must quit being jumpy about it. Here, lend me your arm. I can stand if you'll help me...and walk to the bed if you'll let me lean on you."

Salomon gave up, offered her both hands to help her out of the chair, steadied her with his arm to the bed. Joan Eunice got into it quickly, slid her negligee off as she slid under the sheet. "Thank you, Jake."

"My pleasure—Joan Eunice."

"Will you have breakfast with me? Or lunch if you want to sleep late?"

"Uh... lunch."

"I'm looking forward to it." She put out her hand. He took it, bowed over it—hesitated only slightly and kissed it firmly.

Joan Eunice kept his hand and pulled. "Come closer, Jake dear." She reached up, took his face between her palms. "You loved her."

"Yes."

"I loved her."

"I know."

"Say my name. My new name."

"Joan—Joan Eunice."

"Thank you, Jake." Unhurriedly, she pulled his face down, kissed him softly on the lips. "Good night, dear friend."

"Good night—Joan Eunice." He left quickly.

(Joan you bitch, you're pushing him too hard.) (I am not!) (The hell you aren't. For a second I thought you were going to drag him right into bed.) (Ridiculous!) (And you're pushing yourself too hard, too.) (Eunice, quit crabbing. I could have backed out up to the last split second. I found that I did not mind it. After all, there are many cultures in which men kiss men, as a gesture of friendship.)

(In case you haven't noticed, you are no longer a man—you're a mixed-up chick.) (I've noticed. Look, snoopy, it was a necessary symbol. I had to show Jake that he could touch me, even kiss me good-night... and not have it be tragic. And it wasn't. Reminded me of my father kissing me good-night... which he did until I was a big boy.)

(Well... perhaps Jake is going to settle for being fatherly. But don't count on it, Joan. Let mc warn you, Sis— Jake can kiss much better than that. He can kiss so well that your insides melt down, starting at your belly button and spreading in all directions.) (A possibility. A remote one. Now will you shut up, and let us sleep? I really am tired.) (Love me. Boss?) (I've never stopped loving you dear—and never will.) (Me, too——and wish I could kiss you good-night. Sleep, Boss—everything's going to he all right.)