Rendezvous

           WhenIawokeIcouldbearJosellaalreadymovingaroundinthekitchen.Mywatchsaidnearlyseveno’clock.BythetimeIhadshaveduncomfortablyincoldwateranddressedmyself,therewasasmelloftoastandcoffeedriftingthroughtheapartment.Ifoundherholdingapanovertheoilstove.Shehadanairofself-possessionwhichwashardtoassociatewiththefrightenedfigureofthenightbefore.Hermannerwaspracticaltoo.

           "Cannedmilk,I’mafraid.Thefridgestopped.Everythingelseisallright,though,"shesaid.

           Itwasdifficultforamomenttobelievethattheexpedientlydressedformbeforemehadbeentheballroomvisionofthepreviousevening.Shehadchosenadarkblueskiingsuitwithwhite-toppedsocksrolledabovesturdyshoes.OnadarkleatherbeltsheworeafinelymadehuntingknifetoreplacethemediocreweaponIhadfoundthedaybefore.IhavenoideahowIexpectedtofindherdressed,orwhetherIhadgiventhematteranythought,butthepracticalityofherchoicewasbynomeanstheonlyimpressionIreceivedasIsawher.

           "WillIdo,doyouthink?"sheasked.

           "Eminently,"Iassuredher.Ilookeddownatmyself."I’dwishI’dhadasmuchforethought.Gents’loungesuitingisn’tquitetherigforthejob,"Iadded.

           "Youcoulddobetter,"sheagreed,withacandidglanceatmycrumpledsuit.

           "Thatlightlastnight,"shewenton,"camefromtheUniversityTower—atleast,I’mprettysureitdid.There’snothingelsenoticeableexactlyonthatline.Itseemsabouttherightdistance,too."