He had seen her on the day after her return from Easthampton. She had acquired a beautiful tan, and her eyes were a shocking blue against her oval face. There was something patrician about this girl’s features, Felix thought, something untouchable, something almost rarefied. He would like to hold her face in his hands and watch those cool blue eyes explode in ecstasy. He would like that. She had been wearing a halter and shorts that Wednesday. The halter was very brief, and her breasts crowded it, and he could see the milk-white inch of flesh above the slender halter where the skin had been protected by her bathing suit, where the sun had not touched her. She worked barefooted in the back yard, her legs long and clean, stemming in firm three dimensionality from the turned-up cuffs of her shorts. He had walked past the house and nodded to her briefly. She had smiled back at him, her teeth dazzling white against the tanned skin.

Cool, Felix thought.

And, patiently, he waited.

His calculations on the following Monday seemed true and sharp, but of course he did not have the benefit of either Larry’s or Maggie’s counsel. He judged the events as they happened and formed what seemed to him logical conclusions. He was relaxing on the front steps of his house at eight o’clock that night, reading the Daily News. Dick Tracy was bound to a cake of ice, floating down a river. It looked like the end for Dick Tracy. Felix sighed, and then glanced up when he saw the front door of the Gault house opening.

Margaret Gault came out of the Cape Cod, hesitated a moment, and then rushed down the steps. Felix watched her. There was a smell on this one and Felix reluctantly admired Larry for having recognized it. There was, too, a sure femaleness to her walk, the tread of a jungle cat padding familiar paths. She turned left on the slate which ran past the big maple on the front lawn, and then walked to the garage at the back of her house. Felix watched her. She was wearing a green silk dress and high-heeled pumps. All decked out, he thought, and instantly assumed she was going to meet Larry. He watched the dress move up over her knees as she slid onto the seat of the Chevy. He waited while she started the car, and then watched as she backed it into the street. She seemed in a terrible rush. She didn’t even wave to him as she drove away.

Felix busied himself with his newspaper, and waited.

No matter how he read it, it still looked like the end for Dick Tracy.

In ten minutes Larry Cole drove past his house. He honked the horn at Felix and waved. Felix waved back. Hurry up, lover, he thought. She’s got a ten-minute start on you.

He folded his newspaper and walked into the house.

“Betty,” he said, “I’m going over to Larry’s. See if he wants a glass of beer.”

“Do you ever think of helping around here?” Betty asked.

“Do you ever think of going into the city every day to cut meat?” he asked “I may be late. I’ve got a big thirst.”

“You’re getting to be a drunkard,” Betty said, and she plunked another dish into the soapy water.

Felix went to the bathroom, combed his hair, and left the house. He assumed his calculations so far had been correct. The lovers had left to meet each other. It was close to eight-thirty, which meant that Eve would be through with the after-dinner mess, the children in bed. And even the weather seemed to be with him. Black clouds were piling up in the sky. That meant rain, and rain would drive everyone indoors. Not that it really mattered. There was certainly nothing suspicious about a visit from a friend and neighbor. Still, the rain wouldn’t hurt. He glanced skyward, and even as he did, the first drops started to fall in a slow, steady drizzle. He grinned and began walking faster, convinced that all of his observations were as true as the forecast of rain.

He didn’t know this was the only safe conclusion he’d drawn, or that he was yet to commit his biggest blunder.

To begin with, the haste with which Margaret Gault had left her house was occasioned by a dental appointment for eight o’clock in Dr. Bennuti’s office, an appointment for which she was already late. She was not hurrying to meet Larry. Her rendezvous was with a drill.

Nor had Larry driven past on his way to meet her. Larry was simply driving into town to pick up some art supplies, and he would not be gone all night as Felix had surmised. He was, in fact, not more than two miles away buying pencils and erasers when Felix knocked on his front door.

Nor had Eve, ripe or not, completely finished with the after-dinner duties. True, the children were in bed and the dishes done, but a shower was still on her schedule. She had gone to the bathroom, undressed, tied her hair back with a ribbon, and was adjusting the water preparatory to stepping into the tub when she heard the knocking at the door.

“Who is it?” she called.

The bathroom door was closed, so she could not be certain, but it sounded to her as if someone had entered the house without waiting for the customary “Come in.” Even in gregarious Pinecrest Manor, this was a little odd. She put on her robe, opened the bathroom door, and peeked out.

“Who is it?” she asked again.

“Me. Felix.”

“Oh,” she said. “Larry isn’t home, Felix.”

“I know.”

“I’m about to take a shower. Is it anything important?”

“It’ll just take a minute, Eve.”

“Well, all right,” she said. “Sit down.”

“I’m sitting already,” he answered.

She closed the bathroom door and debated getting fully dressed again. She decided against it. He’d said he’d only take a minute, and she meant to keep him to that promise. She belted the robe tightly around her waist, turned up the collar to her throat, and then inspected herself in the mirror. The robe was a bulky terry cloth, unrevealing, thick, impenetrable. Satisfied, she put on her mules and went into the living room. Felix stood up when she came in.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” he said.

“Not at all,” she answered, smiling politely. “What is it?” He seemed embarrassed to find her in a robe. The thought amused her slightly. She was completely and formidably covered, but nonetheless he avoided looking at her.

“I wanted to find out what you did with those azaleas,” he said.

“Azaleas?” She went to the coffee table, took a cigarette from the box there, and lighted it.

“Yes. Out front.”

“I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything with them.”

“You handle the gardening around here, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Eve said. She sat in one of the easy chairs, tucking the robe around her. Outside, the falling drizzle washed the development streets.

“Well, they’re coming along beautifully. Betty and I want to buy some, but we want to know first...” He paused. “You’ve got your hair back, haven’t you?”

“What?” Eve said.

“Your hair.”

Her hand went to the back of her neck. “Oh, yes.”

“It looks prettier loose.”

“Well, I don’t like shower caps,” she said. “It gets wet this way, but at least it’s manageable.”

“Why don’t you loosen it, Eve?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you take off the ribbon?”

“Because I’m going into the shower as soon as you leave.”

“But it looks prettier loose.”

“Well, I’ll wear it loose later.”

“Let it fall free, Eve,” he said. “Let it fall around your face.”

Eve did not answer him. She looked at him, puzzled.

“You have a very pretty face, Eve.”

“Thank you,” she said quickly. “About the azaleas, all I did was dig a hole and spread peat moss into the bottom of it. And I kept them watered. That’s all I did.” She rose. Felix kept sitting.

“When did you plant them?” he asked.

“In the spring.”

“Do you think I ought to wait for the spring?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Yes, but what do you think? Should I wait until the spring, or should I plant now?”

“I really don’t know, Felix. I don’t think August is very good for putting plants in, but it’s up to you. The nursery might not guaran—”

“Take off the ribbon, Eve,” Felix said.

“Felix, let’s not be foolish,” she said. “I have to take a shower.”

Felix stood up. She watched him as he walked toward her. For the first time since he had entered the house, she felt somewhat frightened. She did not move when he reached out to loosen the ribbon, and yet she felt she was succumbing, powerless to his will. She felt that if she allowed him to take off that silly piece of cloth, it would be the same as if he... as if he... but she did not move. She felt his fingers plucking at the silk. The ribbon fell. Her hair tumbled about her face. Felix moved back from her, the ribbon in his hands. The room was gray with the drizzle that oozed along the big picture window facing the street.

“There,” he said, “that’s better.” He grinned. “You’ve got a very pretty face, and very lovely eyes.”

Eve smiled nervously. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you about a ribbon,” she said, the words spilling from her mouth. “I doubt that the nursery will guarantee anything you plant in...”

“Eve....”

“... in August. You should consider that if...”

They saw the lightning streak simultaneously. It flashed across the sky with sudden, startling brilliance, a jagged, luminescent yellow-white. And then, after the space of a heart beat, the thunder followed, and the heavier rain was unleashed all at once, lashing across the development streets in unchallenged fury.

“It’s really beginning to come down,” Felix said.