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around here, but for us poor folk who stay in the city all summer—” She broke off. “Well for Pete’s sake, we’ve all been looking for you.”
    Andrew, with the owner of the lost bracelet, was walking out of the woods, she flourishing the bracelet and laughing.
    “Guess what? It was on the seat of my car. I always take it off while I’m driving. The charms get in the way.”
    “But where on earth were you?” Cynthia heard Jane ask, and heard another woman adding under her breath, “Where do you think? It’s only Phyllis’s usual little disappearing act.”
    And Andrew, who had certainly heard, too,was standing like a bashful boy, startled by the sudden fall of silence.
    Ken said quietly, “Let’s go get the car. It’s late.”
    “I need the ladies’ room first,” said Cynthia.
    Jane followed her. “Don’t let him see any tears, don’t give him the satisfaction,” she counseled.
    Cynthia, replying with some defiance, for a soft response would surely have brought tears, said quietly, “You don’t see any, do you?”
    And she bent toward the mirror, running a comb through and through her hair, which did not need combing. A terrible shame flushed her face; she had been publicly humiliated.
    “That Phyllis person is really a bitch. She can’t keep her hands off a good-looking man. I don’t know why anyone would want to invite her here; she’s not a member.”
    “Oh, please—”
    “All right, I’ll say no more. Only, listen, Cynthia, you two have been through hell. Don’t let this throw you back down. It’s rotten, but it’s not the worst. You just have to close your eyes sometimes.”
    It was unbearable. “We’d better go. They’re waiting.”
    “If you’re ready. Otherwise let them wait.”
    “I’m ready.”
    “Don’t worry, you look fine.”
    “Do you know what? I don’t care how I look.”
    “Men.” Jane sighed as they walked to the car. “Men. They’re all the same.”
    Andrew and Ken, together in the front seat, talked their way back to the city, while the two women were silent, Jane out of consideration and Cynthia in turmoil. She was a pitied woman whose value had been cheapened in front of strangers. The armor of marital dignity had been stripped away from her.
    All these feelings came rushing into words the moment the apartment door was closed. On shaking legs she stood leaning against the wall.
    “You were gone for three quarters of an hour from the time you were missed, and God knows how long before that. With that—that cheap thing that even Jane said can’t keep her hands off a man—and you, you made a fool out of yourself.” She was maddened. She thumped her chest. “You did this to me? To me?”
    “I didn’t mean to make a fool out of you or myself. It’s—you’re exaggerating. It was harmless,” Andrew said, stumbling over the word. “I meant, I didn’t mean any harm. Foolish, I meant.”
    She stared at him. Never before had he, a man of confident pride, appeared so flustered, so inept.
    “Foolish,” he repeated, looking not at Cynthia’s face, but at her shoes.
    “What were you thinking of? What were you doing there?”
    “We—it was—a walk. We took a little walk.”
    “I’m sure. It wasn’t a little walk, it was a long one, unless—unless you spent a good part of it lying down.”
    “I admit I used poor judgment, but you’re making too much of this, Cynthia. You’re carrying it too far.”
    “Am I? I don’t think so.”
    Everything about his posture spoke to her and drew a picture in her head. She threw her words at him. “You had sex with her.”
    “That’s ridiculous. You have no grounds for thinking so.”
    “I simply feel it. There are times when you feelthings. Anyway, what else would you have been doing, discussing philosophy with her?”
    “We were just talking. Talking, about nothing in particular.”
    “Out in the dark bushes for almost an hour talking about nothing in particular. Do you think I’m an idiot?