each other. I would have hidden it, and so would he have, but we couldn't even begin, even to pretend. We just lay there, hoping it would change, talking about how we loved each other, each hoping it was just the newness of being married, or something. But it wasn't. After a while we looked at each other, and I asked him. He asked me. It was the same with us both. I felt we were in some awful nightmare, lying there so peacefully, so married, as we would when we were old, past our time. The peace was like a nightmare, we were so calm and close. We weren't disturbed by our failure, it seemed natural! That was what frightened us so much. The next morning, we got up and felt old. Not old in our bones, for we felt relaxed and healthy, but old because we hadn't come together in a rush of desire, our bodies wild for one another, and because we hadn't the wonderful fulfillment of our love, and the sweet sleep in each other's arms, afterwards. Because we hadn't even wanted to!

"That day we went to a doctor. We asked him what was wrong. I prayed we could take some medicine, or see a psychiatrist, or something. My heart lifted with hope, as if we were coming to the end of the nightmare. And the doctor just looked at us. He looked sad. He said, 'I'm sorry... it's something we all find out...' And that was it. They don't tell anyone, because they're afraid it will discourage people from getting married. It might cause a panic, a national emergency, or something. We're not sad, really, now that we're used to the idea. We're not really old. We don't feel old. We're happy together. We've almost forgotten what it used to be like. And we have the kids . . ."

I didn't know what to say. I thought she might be insane. Then I thought, and said, "Kids? What do you..

"It's a form of artificial insemination. The doctor showed us. It's very simple. I won't describe it."

I felt sort of sick. She was very sweet, told me not to tell anyone, and I went home, because it was late.

I checked with my other married friends. It was true. They never had sex. From the time of their marriage, there wasn't any sex. And they all had their children by that same process.

Then what about the secret of marriage, the wonder of summer nights and dark windows, the couples in their sleek convertibles, close in the warm, perfumed wind, the couples in poorer houses whose curtains stir in the soft night air, the sunshine on a turned down quilt, the languid hours of late afternoon sun in a back yard, among garden flowers lined with fat, hovering bees, the crackling orange flame in a fireplace, flickering orange light among plates and cushions, where a white blizzard of snow sweeps past the warm window, the dusky curtains, the fire-warmed love.... What about me?

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