it.â
âYouâre insane,â David said.
Davidâs voice sounded petulant and childishâanother good sign, James thought, that their relationship was about to be over. People are petulant and childish all the time, but itâs only at the end of things that we notice.
James got up and put the gun back into the secret drawer, then clicked the drawer back into place, where it looked like nothing but a bit of carved desk front. All of these secretaries had the same secret drawer in the same place. Anybody who had ever seen one before would know right where to go to find the treasure.
âYouâre insane,â David said again, sounding neither petulant nor childish this time.
James went back to the coffee table, picked up the tray with the coffee things on it, and headed back out to the kitchen to wash up.
7
Edith Braxner had never really believed that men and women had sex. She knew, intellectually, that it must happenâall the children who showed up at the doors of schools every September couldnât be the result of artificial inseminationâbut the whole thing seemed to be so uncomfortable that she couldnât understand the point to it. For a long time she simply hadnât thought about it. She was old enough to have gone through school and college at a time when women were expected to be virginal until they reached the altar or died trying. Sheâd had no interest in getting married,and the only thing that bothered her about the eraâs mania for virginity was its tendency to spill over into what she thought of as sensible things. It annoyed her to discover that men found it erotic, and faintly disreputable, that she had done well in a class on anatomy. It annoyed her even more to discover that many women thought the same way, as if they were convinced that they themselves couldnât have remained intact and pure if theyâd paid attention in their biology classes and not left school under the misapprehension that having sex while standing on oneâs head could not possibly result in pregnancy.
She was in graduate school when the sexual revolution hit, and she found it immediately relaxing. She did not lose her own virginityâhow could you lose something that you didnât really have?, was what she wanted to knowâbut it seemed as if everybody else did, and in the wake of that she found that men began to leave her alone. She had never been a pretty girl or a pretty young woman. Her features were broad and flat. Her hair was dull. Her body was thin enough but of no particular shape. She thought that there were many girls across the country exactly like she had been who did what her own mother had wanted her to do. They âdid somethingâ about themselves. They went on exercise programs. They used makeup. To Edith, it had all seemed a colossal waste of time. It wasnât that she knew it wouldnât work anyway, although it wouldnât. It was that she knew she didnât care enough to keep it up. She would put in this enormous effort. She would primp and pump and spend. She would have a curious half hour in front of a mirror somewhere, checking out the changes the dyed hair and Elizabeth Arden lip gloss made. Then it would be over. She would have work to do. She would forget. Everything would go back to being the way it was. She would be out a lot of time and money, and maybe be less of a person than she had been before.
Once sheâd started thinking about it, Edith decided that, for many people, sex had to have an ulterior motive. They didnât fall into bed because they wanted to fall into bed but to get something else, not sleep, not ecstasy. At least thatwas true of women. With men, Edith was never quite sure. She got along well with men. She always had. If they werenât intent on doing something physical, they were straightforward and uncomplicated. They didnât worry overmuch about their emotions or take things
âYouâre insane,â David said.
Davidâs voice sounded petulant and childishâanother good sign, James thought, that their relationship was about to be over. People are petulant and childish all the time, but itâs only at the end of things that we notice.
James got up and put the gun back into the secret drawer, then clicked the drawer back into place, where it looked like nothing but a bit of carved desk front. All of these secretaries had the same secret drawer in the same place. Anybody who had ever seen one before would know right where to go to find the treasure.
âYouâre insane,â David said again, sounding neither petulant nor childish this time.
James went back to the coffee table, picked up the tray with the coffee things on it, and headed back out to the kitchen to wash up.
7
Edith Braxner had never really believed that men and women had sex. She knew, intellectually, that it must happenâall the children who showed up at the doors of schools every September couldnât be the result of artificial inseminationâbut the whole thing seemed to be so uncomfortable that she couldnât understand the point to it. For a long time she simply hadnât thought about it. She was old enough to have gone through school and college at a time when women were expected to be virginal until they reached the altar or died trying. Sheâd had no interest in getting married,and the only thing that bothered her about the eraâs mania for virginity was its tendency to spill over into what she thought of as sensible things. It annoyed her to discover that men found it erotic, and faintly disreputable, that she had done well in a class on anatomy. It annoyed her even more to discover that many women thought the same way, as if they were convinced that they themselves couldnât have remained intact and pure if theyâd paid attention in their biology classes and not left school under the misapprehension that having sex while standing on oneâs head could not possibly result in pregnancy.
She was in graduate school when the sexual revolution hit, and she found it immediately relaxing. She did not lose her own virginityâhow could you lose something that you didnât really have?, was what she wanted to knowâbut it seemed as if everybody else did, and in the wake of that she found that men began to leave her alone. She had never been a pretty girl or a pretty young woman. Her features were broad and flat. Her hair was dull. Her body was thin enough but of no particular shape. She thought that there were many girls across the country exactly like she had been who did what her own mother had wanted her to do. They âdid somethingâ about themselves. They went on exercise programs. They used makeup. To Edith, it had all seemed a colossal waste of time. It wasnât that she knew it wouldnât work anyway, although it wouldnât. It was that she knew she didnât care enough to keep it up. She would put in this enormous effort. She would primp and pump and spend. She would have a curious half hour in front of a mirror somewhere, checking out the changes the dyed hair and Elizabeth Arden lip gloss made. Then it would be over. She would have work to do. She would forget. Everything would go back to being the way it was. She would be out a lot of time and money, and maybe be less of a person than she had been before.
Once sheâd started thinking about it, Edith decided that, for many people, sex had to have an ulterior motive. They didnât fall into bed because they wanted to fall into bed but to get something else, not sleep, not ecstasy. At least thatwas true of women. With men, Edith was never quite sure. She got along well with men. She always had. If they werenât intent on doing something physical, they were straightforward and uncomplicated. They didnât worry overmuch about their emotions or take things
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