“Sssh.” He looked over his shoulder like a stage villain. “I think your girl friend listens at doors.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “She would. So what?”

“Everything okay?” He looked at me a little oddly.

“Great. Now that I know how the other half lives, I think I’ll start looking for a millionaire. I could learn to like this kind of life.”

Before I knew what he was planning he reached over and tugged at one of my hair ribbons. A whole side section of hair came down.

“God damn it!” I grabbed at my head. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing to get that excited about,” Jim said.

“Well, damn it, Kore put in a lot of work on this, and I don’t think you ought to mess it up. Of all the dumb, childish-”

“What’s happened to my girl with the hair in her face?”

“Oh… Forget it. I guess it’s not important.”

“No,” Jim said. His eyes went over me, from my ribboned hair across my bare shoulders and down to where the sheet lay neatly folded back over my lap. His expression annoyed me. I was showing a lot of healthy-looking skin, and I expected some signs of interest and approval instead of that cold, appraising stare.

“I talked to Chris,” Jim said. “He agrees that you ought to leave. The transcontinental flights are pretty full this time of year, but he thinks he can get you on a flight from Athens this weekend. You could catch the boat from Phira on Thursday and be in Athens -”

“Wait just a bloody minute,” I said. “What gives your boss the idea he can run my life?”

“It was pretty decent of him to offer. He doesn’t like to use his influence-”

“Like hell he doesn’t. He adores being Sir Christopher. I bet he can hardly wait for the next title.”

When Jim got mad he forgot about eavesdroppers, common courtesy, and care of the wounded.

“God, you’re in a bitchy mood,” he shouted. “I don’t know why I should stick around here and be insulted.”

“So leave,” I said. My voice wasn’t exactly a whisper.

Jim stood up. Then he sat down. He took six deep breaths. I could see his lips move as he counted.

“We’ll try again,” he said. “If you give me any more lip, I’ll belt you one.”

“You and what army?” I snapped; and then, because it had sounded so silly, even to me, I laughed.

The door opened and Kore’s head came in.

“Ah,” she said, grinning. “You laugh. You are friends, that is nice.”

The door closed.

Jim stopped laughing. “Damn that woman,” he said.

“She’s all right,” I said tolerantly.

“She’s a menace,” Jim said. “ Sandy, I’m sorry I got off on the wrong foot. I ought to know better than to sound as if I’m trying to give you orders. May I respectfully inquire what your plans are?”

I shrugged. One shoulder strap slipped down. I let it hang. “What’s the hurry?”

“No room at the inn,” Jim said.

“What?”

“Sorry if I blaspheme. I mean I tried to get you a room at the hotel. Angelos says they’re full up.”

“Maybe they have a tour coming.”

“No. The place is half empty.”

“And you think that’s significant or something?”

“I know it is. I offered to move in with Chris and give you my room. Angelos practically gibbered trying to think of reasons why that couldn’t be done. You are persona non grata in town, love.”

“But why?” I asked in bewilderment. “I haven’t done anything.”

“The only thing I can think of is that you’ve gotten friendly with Kore.”

“What a bunch of superstitious peasants,” I said scornfully. “Who cares about the hotel? I’ll stay here.”

I shrugged again. The other strap started to slide. Jim pulled it up and adjusted the first strap too, scowling like Martin Luther admonishing a harlot. His hands still on my shoulders he shook me, none too gently.

“For God’s sake, Sandy, what’s happened to you? You’re acting like a-like-somebody else. You look like one of those dummies in store windows. Even your face is blanking out. Will you come with me, now? I’ll drive you to Phira this afternoon.”

“Why bother?” I asked coldly. “For a big blank-faced doll-”

Jim made an exasperated noise. He slid his arm behind my back and pulled me away from the pillows so that my head lay in the curve of his shoulder. His free hand ran roughshod through my carefully arranged hair, till it hung loose. I yelped with the pain and he stopped my mouth with his. I couldn’t help responding; but after the first moment or two I began to get angry, not because he was rough but because he didn’t seem to care whether I responded or not. I started to struggle. Finally I brought my hand up in a wild swing, and felt it connect.

Jim let me go. I fell back, gasping and disheveled, puzzled and furious. There was a patch of red on Jim’s cheek where I had slapped him. He was smiling.

“That’s my girl,” he said approvingly. “You don’t like it, do you-being treated like an inanimate object?”

“Was that the point of that little demonstration?”

“Yes.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his breathing still uneven, his cheek flaming and his eyes anxious. But he didn’t say any more.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go. This weekend.”

I had forgotten about Kore. Maybe Jim had not; he didn’t look startled when the door burst open.

“Now,” said Kore, advancing like an infuriated duenna. “What is this? You have hurt her, Jim. Ha! She hit you. That is good, you deserve it. You go now.”

“Okay.” Jim stood up. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He grinned at Kore. The corners of her mouth quivered.

“Men; they are all the same.”

After lunch, when I was left alone, I did my exercises instead of sleeping. Kore had announced I had a big treat coming. I would be allowed to go downstairs for dinner.

Early in the afternoon she started getting me fancied up. She worked on my hair for an hour, and then produced one of her silk caftans for me to wear. It was pale green; apparently she had decided that was my color.

I went downstairs supported by Kore and the silent maid. I felt a little giddy at first, but the feeling soon passed away, and I studied my surroundings with interest. I had not seen the interior of the villa, except for my own room. It was a beautiful place. The floors were made of those smooth shiny tiles that are common in the Mediterranean countries, cool deep blues and soft greens-sea colors. The wide staircase had a handsome wrought-iron balustrade. The drawing room was a large, low-ceilinged chamber, with wide windows opening onto a courtyard; not the one I had seen from my window, but a small space, with a little fountain in the center and exotic trees in big pots. The furniture was a mixture of European antiques and local peasant work.

After I had been settled in an overstuffed chair, the maid left and another woman came in with a tray of drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Her face gave me a start; it was so like the faces that had passed through my field of vision the night before. She was young, probably not much older than I; but it’s hard to tell people’s ages in the islands, they grow old so fast.

I said, “Efkaristos,” and took the glass that had been offered to me. Usually the islanders responded with big grins when I said anything. This girl didn’t respond, except to duck her head, as if she were bowing.

My start and my stare had not gone unnoticed by Kore.

“They are so shy, these people,” she said, after the girl had left. “Like animals, fearful and silent. Prosit!” and she lifted her glass.

The German word, which I always associate with enormous steins of beer, sounded unnatural coming from her. I said “Cheers,” or something, and drank. The liquid didn’t taste like anything I recognized. It was a sweet, thick substance that made me long for a glass of water. Kore saw my grimace.

“A true antique, this wine,” she said. “I have made it as the Greeks and Romans did. Our wines to them would be vinegar, too thin, too sour. Theirs were sweet, so always they mix with water, with honey and herbs. It is interesting, yes?”