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"Oh. Too bad," he muttered with

disappointment. "I thought we'd make up for lost time, especially in here. We had a good time in here once, didn't we?" he said, gazing around with a lascivious smile washed across his face. "On this very sofa," he added. "I still don't know why it was so important we do it in here," he added. "In fact, as I recall, it was a little uncomfortable. Not that I'm complaining," he said.

His revelation so amazed me that the expression on my face intrigued him.

"What's the matter? You don't remember? You make love so often in so many places, you forgot?" "I didn't forget anything," I said sullenly.

He nodded and gazed at Pearl again. "So when will I see you? Can you come up to my apartment later?"

"No," I said quickly, perhaps too quickly. He squinted and continued to study me curiously. My pounding heart brought a hot flush to my face. I knew my cheeks were crimson.

"You're not yourself, for some reason."

"Well, would you be if your twin sister came down with a fatal illness and you were left caring for her child because her husband was too

overwhelmed?"

"Fatal? I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was that serious." "Well, it is," I snapped.

"Why don't you just hire someone to watch her for you?" he asked after a moment.

"I intend to, but not right away. I've got to pretend I care at least," I said.

"She's a pretty little girl," he said, gazing at Pearl again. "But little kids are little kids." He stepped toward me again, his eyes soft, demanding, his lips folded into a impish smile. "I missed you. Didn't you miss me?"

"I miss my freedom," I replied.

He didn't like the response and grimaced. "You weren't so indifferent the night before you left. You were moaning so loud, I thought I'd have problems with my neighbors."

"Is that so?" I said indignantly. "Well, you don't have to worry about the neighbors anymore. I'll do my moaning at home," I added with my hands on my hips in Gisselle's way and my head wagging.

"What?"

"You heard me." My voice took on the steely edge of a razor. "Now, leave before Beau comes back and you have to explain your injuries to your parents."

"Huh?" He shook his head. "Looks like you're the one with the fatal illness, not your sister."

"Would you get out of here?" I demanded, and pointed to the window.

He stood there and then smiled at me. "You'll change your mind. You'll get bored and call. I know you will."

"Don't hold your breath."

My reaction confused him. I could see him struggling to understand. A theory flashed. "You're seeing someone else on the side, aren't you?" he accused. "Who is it? Kurt Peters? No, you wouldn't sleep with Kurt. He's not wild enough for you. I know, Henry Martin, right?"

"It's Henry, isn't it?" He nodded, convincing himself. "I should have realized that would happen when you told me you thought he was cute. How is he? Is he as exciting in bed as I am?"

"I'm not sleeping with anyone but Beau," I said, and he threw his head back and laughed.

"You? Stay with only one man? Don't make me laugh. Oh well," he said, shrugging with an air of indifference. "We had a good fling. Carey Littlefield told me not to expect too much for too long. So, as you see, dear Gisselle, your reputation precedes you. The only one who seems oblivious about it is your darling Beau Andreas. Or maybe he's not as oblivious as you think. Maybe he, too, has found other distractions."

"Get out!" I shouted, and pointed to the window.

"I'm going. Don't worry." He looked at Pearl again. She was staring up with confusion and some fear in her face because I had raised my voice. "You better get someone to take care of that child soon, before you ruin her," he said, and headed for the window. "Au revoir, Gisselle. I shall never forget the way you squealed when I kissed that little beauty mark under your breast," he added, and laughed as he crawled out the window. He waved and was off as quickly as he had appeared. Only then did I release the air I had been holding in my lungs. I reached back to find the settee and sat hard.

My sister had been having affairs with other men after she had married Beau. Apparently he didn't know, because he hadn't said anything to me. How many more men would come sneaking around the house or calling? I had been lucky this time, but the next man might be more perceptive.

I should have realized Gisselle would have been involved with other men, I thought. She married Beau only as a way to get at me, to flaunt him. Even when she was going with him in high school, she was seeing other boys on the side. Whoever that man was who had just been here, he was right. One man was never enough for Gisselle. She was always thinking about what she was missing.