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           Itwastoolatefordinersandtooearlyforthetheaterstobeout,sotherewerefewpeoplearound,justknotsofAmericansailorsoffavisitingtaskforce,andgroupsofyounggirlswindow-shoppingwithaneyetosailors.Noonetookanynoticeofthem,whichsuitedArthurfine.HepoppedintoachemistshopwhileJustinewaitedoutside,emergedbeaminghappily.

           "Nowwe’reallset,mylove."

           "Whatdidyoubuy?Frenchletters?"

           Hegrimaced."Ishouldhopenot.AFrenchletterislikecomingwrappedinapageoftheReader’sDigest—condensedtackiness.No,Igotyousomejelly.HowdoyouknowaboutFrenchletters,anyway?"

           "AftersevenyearsinaCatholicboardingschool?Whatdoyouthinkwedid?Prayed?"Shegrinned."Iadmitwedidn’tdomuch,butwetalkedabouteverything."

           Mr.andMrs.Smithsurveyedtheirkingdom,whichwasn’tbadforaSydneyhotelroomofthatera.ThedaysoftheHiltonwerestilltocome.Itwasverylarge,andhadsuperbviewsoftheSydneyHarborBridge.Therewasnobathroom,ofcourse,buttherewasabasinandeweronamarble-toppedstand,afittingaccompanimenttotheenormousVictorianrelicsoffurniture.

           "Well,whatdoIdonow?"sheasked,pullingthecurtainsback.

           "It’sabeautifulview,isn’tit?"

           "Yes.Astowhatyoudonow,youtakeyourpantsoff,ofcourse."

           "Anythingelse?"sheaskedmischievously.

           Hesighed."Takeitalloff,Justine!Ifyoudon’tfeelskinwithskinitisn’tnearlysogood."