in favor of reminiscing of things Eve, he and I had done together. This must have gone on for hours, for I found myself saying.

"Oh dear, Bob, it's twelve-thirty. I must be dashing back to my gloomy old mausoleum.'

"Cripes, is it that late?" He consulted his watch. "Damned if it isn't! I'm a little sleepy at that." He got up and went to a window to look down into the deserted and sinister street. When he turned back he said, "Say, why don't you stay here tonight?"

The thought rushed in on me and confused me. There were so many reason why I wanted to, but they were all countered by as many reasons why I

shouldn't.

"Well, gee-I don't know. I mean-

"That is, if you want to. I'll be glad to take you home."

"No, no, it's such a long drive across town. Anyway, I think I'd like to stay, as a matter of fact."

And so it was settled. We rounded up enough linen for the bed and a couple of pillows.

"Say," he yelled to me from the shower, "Why bother putting up the bed? A mattress on the floor is a good bed."

"That's fine with me! We shall rough it!"

He came out of the shower with a towel wrapped about his loins leaving an open gap all the way up one leg to his waist. I had long been able to tell that he was handsomely constructed by the way his clothes fit him, but I found I had somewhat under estimated the full truth. I fought desperately not to stare and soon found the only sure way was to take myself into the shower where he would be out of my sight.

When I immerged, I found he had stationed a mattress in the bay window of the livingroom and prepared it for us. He lay on one side of the improvised bed covered to the waist by a sheet leaving his hairy chest bare. His arms were folded behind his head.

This was not going to be easy. No matter how I approached the situation, it was to be an ordeal. I could keep well to my side of the bed and bemoan the sad waste of it all, or I could allow myself to casually work closer where our legs or arms might touch. This, however, would be a torture I did not wish to be forced to endure.

"The light's beside the hall door," he informed me.

I turned it off and saw that the sky had apparently cleared, for the light of the moon fell brightly through the bare windows to rest upon Bob's full, softly breathing chest.

I got in beside him. "I believe it's a little too hot now."

"It'll cool off in a few hours though, and we'll probably get cold."

There are few things that will increase and improve one's conversation better than darkness. With this stimulus, we went on talking aimlessly. He spoke of his many triumphs in college on various ball teams while I recounted stories of my life at home in England. It was, however, a one sided colloquy, for he was not given to windy speech while I on the other hand was considerably verbose by nationality alone.

As we talked on, I could not take my eyes from his uncommonly handsome face. Slowly and positively an urge to touch him came over me that was not easy to suppress. His gently moving rose red mouth teased and taunted me. As we talked, I made a point of rising occasionally perhaps to straighten the