set.

You know, sometimes whole exchange more than a few words. the same taste in music?

evenings go by and we don't Thank goodness we both share The togetherness that needs no

vocal communication' Jeanne calls it. I guess it just happens to people who've been together for awhile--a sort of

settling down."

"And so you grow flowers on your roof garden," Van smiled understandingly. "How long have you two been together?"

"It'll be three years this August."

"Three years ago--just about the time I abandoned all hop o with Denise." The two women glanced at each other significantly for an instant, then averted their gaze.

Too quickly, Evadne arose and began nervously clearing away the dishes. "I'd better put the coffee on.

"Here, I'll help you take the dishes out to the kitch," Van offered.

The clean, sharp odor of the so apsuds gave Van an odd senso of exhilaration as she stood by Evadne with a towel, ready for the newly-washed china and silverware passed to her. The coffee began to perk a merry tune on the stove.

Evadne kept her oyes steadfastly on the work at hand.

"If you'll pardon my saying so, it's much more cozy out here than in your living-room," Van said, "oven with out the hi-fi."

"We can have music here, too." Evadne reached across Van to turn on the small kitchen radio nearby.

A sudden wave of music enveloped them and the two stood as if transfixed. It was different when Van had selected the "Bluo Tango" record and played it on the hi-fi. That was deliberate. But that the same music should now be heard on the radio at the random flick of a dial seemed a small miracle. Yet, there it was, the same provocative rhythm, the hauntingly wistful melody.