you think it is?" No need to ask Sue what it was she questioned. Fran knew Sue pretty well.

"Of course," said Sue, "but why? I mean, what's it doing here?"

"You said you liked it so much last night." Fran said. "I bought it for you." "You what it for me?"

"Bought."

"Ow!" Sue put a palm to the top of her head. "But last night," Sue said, "last night it was different."

"What was different about it? You liked it didn't you? You said it was beautiful and you wanted it."

"But last night was last night. Today is . . ." Sue threw her hands out in front of her. "Oh, for petesake!" Sue groaned.

"What's different about it?"

"What'd you pay for it?"

"Two-fifty."

"Two-fifty what?" With one lunge Sue was sitting up and clasping her head. "Two-hundred and fifty dollars. Silly."

"Our savings? But what about the down payment we were going to make on a car?"

"That wasn't important last night," Fran said. "You said you wanted that picture."

"But that was last night!" Sue cried. "Today's today. Oh." She swayed from side to side, "My head's like a barrel," and clutched her head.

"You meant it last night, didn't you?"

"Yes, but ... No! I mean-oh. lord. Look at it. What a bunch of rot. Can't you see the thing's not worth it? I mean, Fran, you know art better than that. Two-hundred and fifty simoleons! Whatever possessed you?"

"Not me." Fran said. "You. Meg seemed to've liked it too. You weren't alone." "Meg. Meg. Meg." Sue repeated the name slowly and tapped her temple with the palm of her hand at the same time as though to recall the owner of it. "You mean the tall gal with the short bob and the silver coated nails?"

"Identical."

"What if she did agree with me. She was just as looped as I was. Anyway, what's she know about art?"

"You liked her fine." said Fran.

"What's that to do with it?" Sue said. "Last night anybody might've been an art connoisseur, and anybody might not've."

"You liked her fine." said Fran.

"What the hell's that got to do with it?" Sue cradled her head in her hands. "For petesake, Fran, you've got more sense than to let somebody else sway your opinion of something."

"You wanted to stay there last night." Fran said.

"Stay where?" Sue turned her head slowly to face the long range of little hills Fran's body made underneath the covers.

"With that woman." said Fran. "You remember. You said you liked her hair and her choice of clothes. She wore a pair of somethings that looked like longjohns, and you said you liked her taste in art. You both hurled enough superlatives at it to make it important."

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