had not thought any of it quite the thing. But with the very last bit of overt bitterness she permitted herself in Pip's memory, she had recalled that they had not ever really considered Pip quite the thing either. And Uncle Evelyn had not come at all.

Liza was standing in front of her holding out a fresh drink, her eyes a little misty with liquor and concern. "I really shouldn't encourage you but yours is long gone. Want it?" Andrea looked at the drink and shook her head. That was not the way, Pip would have been brutal about it. Escapism was an insult to humanity, she would have shouted. Liza did not go away and Andrea was aware of her body in front of her, aware of her through the haze of alcohol and Pip in her mind and the swirling smoke and noise of the room. Aware of her on the beach yesterday, barefooted in the rolled jeans, poking her toes in wet sand and rocking down deep for the clams... Liza.

"I thought I might go up and get the guitar and we could go for a walk on the beach, if you like" the girl said, with the hesitation, the doubt that always marked her voice. Andrea had her head down and was staring at the feet in the sandals in front of her. She studied the place where the thong ran between the large toe, painted a fiery red, and back to the ankles a dancer's strong ankles.

"Don't you like the sea, Andrea?"

Andrea lifted her face and looked into the girl's eyes. The movement of life. made Liza stir and she brought one hand up from somewhere and vaguely, uncomfortably moved a strand of her dark hair to a place behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I seem to bother you." And she turned and

went away.

Andrea looked around the room. Dirk Hendrik was talking with the silly doctor. She was suddenly ashamed to realize she had not noticed when he had gone away from her. She really ought to have taken the other drink. Yes, she would get another drink. She rose and passed through the chattering clusters. Max reached out from one and drew her into it. "Come and tell these idiots something about art, Andrea!"

She smiled faintly and pulled away from them. "I'm looking for a drink." Harry was touching her on the arm, "Andrea! Oh, darling you must hear Jo's definition of Provincetown-!"

She halted and turned to hear Jo's definition of Provincetown. It was something that had to be endured-the ritual of professional cheereruppers.

Jo's face was insanely animated and he had one arm around Sheila Hodd and another around Harry. "Provincetown is a cocktail party surrounded by water!"

There was the hissing sound of delight and mock disappointment from the cluster and Jo made his face long with pleasure at his little funny. She saw Liza push her way through the crowd near the French doors and go out into the darkness, the guitar on her back. Dirk Hendrik was standing beside her suddenly, his voice a crystallization of sensibility, of reality piercing the moment. "It's too much, child. Two years. Too much." And he went away from her. Andrea stood stock still where she was, watching after him without seeing him. Without seeing anything or anyone. Two years! Too much! Grief after all was only tiresome and frightening. It spoiled things for the light hearted; and made endurance impossible for the serious. Sheila's invitation in the mail, "Come on up and live a little! Unlock yourself from that apartment for two weeks

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