him to make out whether there was anyone inside it. It was unusual to see a car parked there at any time of the day or nightâthere was a thickly wooded hill on the far side of the road, and on his side, open
fields leading up to his barn, carport, and house. Suddenly the person hiding back of the barn came sneaking along the side of the barn and made a rush for the front of the house. From the kitchen he saw that the intruder was a tall, thin, redheaded woman dressed in jeans and a navy blue ski jacket. She was peering into the living room through a front window. As he was still uncertain whether or not she was alone, for the moment he froze, the gun in his hands. Soon she began to move from one window to the next, stopping each time to get a good look at the room inside. He slipped out of the house through the back door and, without her seeing him, came to within ten feet of where she was staring into one of the living room windows on the south side of the house.
Aiming the rifle at her, he spoke. "What can I do for you, lady?"
"Oh!" she cried when she turned and saw him. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes. I'm alone. I'm Louise Renner."
"You're the dean."
"Yes."
She did not look much older than Pegeen, but
she was a good deal taller, only inches shorter than he was, and what with her erect carriage and the red hair pulled away from her high forehead and knotted severely at the back of her neck, there was a heroically statuesque aura to this woman. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked her.
"I'm trespassing, I know. I intended no harm. I thought no one was home."
"Have you been here before?"
"Only to drive by."
"Why?"
"Could you lower that gun? It's making me very nervous."
"Well, you made me nervous, peeking into my windows."
"I'm sorry. I apologize. I've been stupid. This is shameful. I'll go."
"What were you up to?"
"You know what I was up to," she said.
"You tell me."
"I only wanted to see where she goes every weekend."
"You're in a bad way. You drove from Vermont to find that out."
"She promised we'd be together forever, and
three weeks later she left. I apologize again. This has never happened to me before. I should never have come here."
"And it probably doesn't help much, your meeting me."
"It doesn't."
"It makes you boil with jealousy," he said.
"With hatred, if you want the truth."
"It's you who phoned last night."
"I'm not completely in charge of myself," she replied.
"You're obsessed, so you phone, you're obsessed, so you stalk. You're a very attractive woman nonetheless."
"I've never been told that before by a man with a gun."
"I don't know why she left you for me," he said.
"Oh, don't you?"
"You're a red-haired Valkyrie and I'm an old man."
"An old man who's a star, Mr. Axler. Don't pretend to be no one."
"Would you like to come inside?" he asked.
"Why? Do you want to seduce me too? Is that your specialty, retooling lesbians?"
"Madam, it isn't I who was the Peeping Tom. It isn't I who phoned her parents in Michigan at midnight. It isn't I who anonymously phoned 'Mr. Famous' last night. No need to take the accusatory tone so quickly."
"I'm not myself."
"Do you think she's worth it?"
"No. Of course not," she said. "She's not at all beautiful. She's not that intelligent. And she's not that grown up. She's an unusually childish person for her age. She's a kid, really. She turned her Montana lover into a man. She's turned me into a beggar. Who knows what she's turning you into. She leaves a trail of disaster. Where does the power come from?"
"Take a guess," he said.
"Is it that that makes for disaster?" the dean asked.
"Something about her sexually is very potent," he said, and saw her cringe at the words. But then it could not be easy for the loser to stand there and confront the person who had won.
"There's plenty that's potent," the dean said. "She's a girl-boy. She's a child-adult. There's an adolescent in her that's not grown up. She's a cunning naif.
fields leading up to his barn, carport, and house. Suddenly the person hiding back of the barn came sneaking along the side of the barn and made a rush for the front of the house. From the kitchen he saw that the intruder was a tall, thin, redheaded woman dressed in jeans and a navy blue ski jacket. She was peering into the living room through a front window. As he was still uncertain whether or not she was alone, for the moment he froze, the gun in his hands. Soon she began to move from one window to the next, stopping each time to get a good look at the room inside. He slipped out of the house through the back door and, without her seeing him, came to within ten feet of where she was staring into one of the living room windows on the south side of the house.
Aiming the rifle at her, he spoke. "What can I do for you, lady?"
"Oh!" she cried when she turned and saw him. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes. I'm alone. I'm Louise Renner."
"You're the dean."
"Yes."
She did not look much older than Pegeen, but
she was a good deal taller, only inches shorter than he was, and what with her erect carriage and the red hair pulled away from her high forehead and knotted severely at the back of her neck, there was a heroically statuesque aura to this woman. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked her.
"I'm trespassing, I know. I intended no harm. I thought no one was home."
"Have you been here before?"
"Only to drive by."
"Why?"
"Could you lower that gun? It's making me very nervous."
"Well, you made me nervous, peeking into my windows."
"I'm sorry. I apologize. I've been stupid. This is shameful. I'll go."
"What were you up to?"
"You know what I was up to," she said.
"You tell me."
"I only wanted to see where she goes every weekend."
"You're in a bad way. You drove from Vermont to find that out."
"She promised we'd be together forever, and
three weeks later she left. I apologize again. This has never happened to me before. I should never have come here."
"And it probably doesn't help much, your meeting me."
"It doesn't."
"It makes you boil with jealousy," he said.
"With hatred, if you want the truth."
"It's you who phoned last night."
"I'm not completely in charge of myself," she replied.
"You're obsessed, so you phone, you're obsessed, so you stalk. You're a very attractive woman nonetheless."
"I've never been told that before by a man with a gun."
"I don't know why she left you for me," he said.
"Oh, don't you?"
"You're a red-haired Valkyrie and I'm an old man."
"An old man who's a star, Mr. Axler. Don't pretend to be no one."
"Would you like to come inside?" he asked.
"Why? Do you want to seduce me too? Is that your specialty, retooling lesbians?"
"Madam, it isn't I who was the Peeping Tom. It isn't I who phoned her parents in Michigan at midnight. It isn't I who anonymously phoned 'Mr. Famous' last night. No need to take the accusatory tone so quickly."
"I'm not myself."
"Do you think she's worth it?"
"No. Of course not," she said. "She's not at all beautiful. She's not that intelligent. And she's not that grown up. She's an unusually childish person for her age. She's a kid, really. She turned her Montana lover into a man. She's turned me into a beggar. Who knows what she's turning you into. She leaves a trail of disaster. Where does the power come from?"
"Take a guess," he said.
"Is it that that makes for disaster?" the dean asked.
"Something about her sexually is very potent," he said, and saw her cringe at the words. But then it could not be easy for the loser to stand there and confront the person who had won.
"There's plenty that's potent," the dean said. "She's a girl-boy. She's a child-adult. There's an adolescent in her that's not grown up. She's a cunning naif.
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