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  A big handsome bosomy girl she was, with flaming red hair and a peculiar name, a very old-fashioned name. What was it? Arabella? No, not Arabella. Ara - something, though. Araminty? Yes! Araminty it was! And what is more, within a year or so, Conrad Kreuger had married Araminty and had carried her back with him to Dallas, the place of his birth.

  Anna went over to the bedside table and picked up the telephone directory.

  Kreuger, Conrad P., M.D.

  That was Conrad all right. He had always said he was going to be a doctor. The book gave an office number and a residence number.

  Should she phone him?

  Why not?

  She glanced at her watch. It was five twenty. She lifted the receiver and gave the number of his office.

  'Doctor Kreuger's surgery,' a girl's voice answered.

  'Hello,' Anna said. 'Is Doctor Kreuger there?'

  'The doctor is busy right now. May I ask who's calling?'

  'Will you please tell him that Anna Greenwood telephoned him.'

  'Who?'

  'Anna Greenwood.'

  'Yes, Miss Greenwood. Did you wish for an appointment?'

  'No, thank you.'

  'Is there something I can do for you?'

  Anna gave the name of her hotel, and asked her to pass it on to Dr Kreuger.

  'I' be very glad to,' the secretary said. 'Good-bye, Miss Greenwood.'

  'Good-bye,' Anna said. She wondered whether Dr Conrad P. Kreuger would remember her name after all these years. She believed he would. She lay back again on the bed and began trying to recall what Conrad himself used to look like. Extraordinarily handsome, that he was. Tall... lean... big-shouldered... with almost pure-black hair... and a marvellous face... a strong carved face like one of those Greek heroes, Perseus or Ulysses. Above all, though, he had been a very gentle boy, a serious, decent, quiet, gentle boy. He had never kissed her much - only when he said good-bye in the evenings. And he'd never gone in for necking, as all the others had. When he took her home from the movies on Saturday nights, he used to park his old Buick outside her house and sit there in the car beside her, just talking and talking about the future, his future and hers, and how he was going to go back to Dallas to become a famous doctor. His refusal to indulge in necking and all the nonsense that went with it had impressed her no end. He respects me, she used to say. He loves me. And she was probably right. In any event, he had been a nice man, a nice good man. And had it not been for the fact that Ed Cooper was a super-nice, super-good man, she was sure she would have married Conrad Kreuger.

  The telephone rang. Anna lifted the receiver. 'Yes,' she said. 'Hello.'

  'Anna Greenwood?'

  'Conrad Kreuger!'

  'My dear Anna! What a fantastic surprise. Good gracious me. After all these years.'

  'It's a long time, isn't it.'

  'It's a lifetime. Your voice sounds just the same.'

  'So does yours.'

  'What brings you to our fair city? Are you staying long?'

  'No, I have to go back tomorrow. I hope you didn't mind my calling you.'

  'Hell, no, Anna. I'm delighted. Are you all right?'

  'Yes, I'm fine. I'm fine now. I had a bad time of it for a bit after Ed died...'

  'What!'

  'He was killed in an automobile two and a half years ago.'

  'Oh gee, Anna, I am sorry. How terrible. I... I don't know what to say...'

  'Don't say anything.'

  'You're okay now?'

  'I'm fine. Working like a slave.'

  'That's the girl

  'How's... how's Araminty?'

  'Oh, she's fine.'

  'Any children?'

  'One,' he said. 'A boy. How about you?'

  'I have three, two girls and a boy.'

  'Well, well, what d'you know! Now listen, Anna...'

  'I'm listening.'

  'Why don't I run over to the hotel and buy you a drink? I'd like to do that. I'll bet you haven't changed one iota.'

  'I look old, Conrad.'

  'You're lying.'

  'I feel old, too.'

  'You want a good doctor?'

  'Yes. I mean no. Of course I don't. I don't want any more doctors. All I need is... well...'

  'Yes?'

  'This place worries me, Conrad. I guess I need a friend. That's all I need.'

  'You've got one. I have just one more patient to see, and then I'm free. I'll meet you down in the bar, the something room, I've forgotten what it's called, at six, in about half an hour. Will that suit you?'

  'Yes,' she said. 'Of course. And... thank you, Conrad.' She replaced the receiver, then got up from the bed, and began to dress.

  She felt mildly flustered. Not since Ed's death had she been out and had a drink alone with a man. Dr Jacobs would be pleased when she told him about it on her return. He wouldn't congratulate her madly, but he would certainly be pleased. He'd say it was a step in the right direction, a beginning. She still went to him regularly, and now that she had gotten so much better, his oblique references had become far less oblique and he had more than once told her that her depressions and suicidal tendencies would never completely disappear until she had actually and physically 'replaced' Ed with another man.

  'But it is impossible to replace a person one has loved to distraction,' Anna had said to him the last time he had brought up the subject. 'Heavens above, doctor, when Mrs Crummlin-Brown's parakeet died last month, her parakeet, mind you, not her husband, she was so shook up about it, she swore she'd never have another bird again!'

  'Mrs Cooper,' Dr Jacobs had said, 'one doesn't normally have sexual intercourse with a parakeet.'

  'Well... no...'

  'That's why it doesn't have to be replaced. But when a husband dies, and the surviving wife is still an active and a healthy woman, she will invariably get a replacement within three years if she possibly can. And vice versa.'

  Sex. It was about the only thing that sort of doctor ever thought about. He had sex on the brain.

  By the time Anna had dressed and taken the elevator downstairs, it was ten minutes after six. The moment she walked into the bar, a man stood up from one of the tables. It was Conrad. He must have been watching the door. He came across the floor to meet her. He was smiling nervously. Anna was smiling, too. One always does.

  'Well, well,' he said. 'Well well well,' and she, expecting the usual peck on the cheek, inclined her face upward toward his own, still smiling. But she had forgotten how formal Conrad was. He simply took her hand in his and shook it - once. 'This is a surprise,' he said. 'Come and sit down.'

  The room was the same as any other hotel drinking-room. It was lit by dim lights, and filled with many small tables. There was a saucer of peanuts on each table, and there were leather bench-seats all around the walls. The waiters were rigged out in white jackets and maroon pants. Conrad led her to a corner table, and they sat down facing each other. A waiter was standing over them at once.

  'What will you have?' Conrad asked.

  'Could I have a martini?'

  'Of course. Vodka?'

  'No, gin, please.'

  'One gin martini,' he said to the waiter. 'No. Make it two. I've never been much of a drinker, Anna, as you probably remember, but I think this calls for a celebration.'

  The waiter went away. Conrad leaned back in his chair and studied her carefully. 'You look pretty good,' he said.

  'You look pretty good yourself, Conrad,' she told him. And so he did. It was astonishing how little he had aged in twenty-five years. He was just as lean and handsome as he'd ever been - in fact, more so. His black hair was still black, his eye was clear, and he looked altogether like a man who was no more than thirty years old.

  'You are older than me, aren't you?' he said.

  'What sort of a question is that?' she said, laughing. 'Yes Conrad, I am exactly one year older than you. I'm forty-two.'

  'I thought you were.' He was still studying her with the utmost care, his eyes travelling all over her face and