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it.” Chelle paused. “I expected her to throw one when I told her to leave, but she didn’t. Was that because she’s so worried about her problem?”
    “That’s a question.”
    “Yeah, I guess it is. Can I take it back, Counselor?”
    “Certainly. You may withdraw it without prejudice if you so choose.”
    “Then I do.”
    “That’s good.” His arm found her waist. “Because I didn’t know the answer.”
    “She’s changed. That’s not a question. It’s fact.”
    “If you say so, I’ll accept it. I’m sure I never saw her after you left.”
    “I’m glad you’re not wearing a tie.”
    “In that case, I’m glad I’m not.”
    She toyed with one of his shirt buttons. “I’ll bet you’d like to undress me.”
    “You’d win.”
    “And I’d like to undress you, but … Those earrings. Maybe you noticed Mother’s earrings.”
    He shrugged. “I thought them pretty.”
    “They are. But they’re just red feathers. No stones. Her dress looks nice on her because she’s still got a good figure and knows how to wear clothes, but I looked it over pretty carefully, and it’s off-the-rack. She’s poor now.”
    He nodded.
    “You said the compartments were gone when she tried to book. On the train.”
    “I did. Yes.”
    “Okay. I don’t think she was going to pay for a compartment. You got her to come, and I think you were going to pay for it. You’re probably tired of talking about her. Undressing is better.”
    He smiled. “More interesting, certainly.”
    “You know, I’m glad you said that.” Chelle’s hand tightened on his. “It makes it a little easier to say what I’ve been too chicken to say. You’d like us to undress right now. You’d like to go to bed, and so would I. I’ve been—well, you know.”
    “There’s something you feel you ought to tell me first.”
    “Yeah, and ask a favor, too. Asking a favor isn’t a question. Doesn’t count.”
    “Correct.”
    “Please don’t get all upset, Skip.”
    “I won’t.”
    “Just like that? Try hard not to.”
    “I won’t get upset. You have my word.”
    “Here’s the favor. I’d like us to undress each other with the lights out.”
    He rose. “I understand.” A switch near the door extinguished every light in the room.
    Her voice reached him through the darkness. “I don’t think you do. I don’t see how you could.”
    “You’re a young woman. Biologically, you’re twenty-five. I am a middle-aged man. Biologically and in every other way I’m forty-nine. I’m not overweight—but I’m not twenty-seven, either.”
    “That isn’t it at all. Will you please sit back down? I want you to kiss me, and I want you to call me Seashell, the way you used to.”
    It should have been funny, but he felt his eyes fill with tears.
    “Here it is. I was blown all to hell, Skip. The doctors put me back together as well as they could, but there are scars.”
    Unable to speak, he nodded. His hand had found her shoulder in the dark; bowing before her, he kissed her.
    “I took my own shirt off. I guess you found that out when you put your arms around me.”
    It was difficult, but he said, “I did, Seashell.”
    “Want to do the rest for me? If you don’t, just say so and I’ll go.”
    *   *   *
     
    Much later, while she was in the bathroom doing the things that women did at such a time, he thought back on all that he had heard and seen that evening.
    The line of light beneath the bathroom door vanished with a click. He heard the door open and her soft barefoot step before she said, “Your turn.”
    He rose. As he passed the table at which the three of them had eaten, he picked up the little notebook beside her plate. In the bathroom he read:
     
Mastergunner Chelle Sea Blue.
Sv #66797-9053-0169101
Base telephone 8897 4434-83622
Chelle 7990 7374-17840
I am Jane Sims Jane Sims I am Jane Sims

REFLECTION 2
    Seashell
     
    “God is love.”
    “Love is blind.”
    If these be true, then God is blind: simple logic that would