(There's the pitch, twin! Too late for me to help.) "It's been more than three times, Winifred."

"Well... yes. But why did you stop?"

Joan sighed. "Because I was scared."

"Of me?"

"Of me. Winsome darling—I've done many hard things in my life. Such as waiting in a landing boat, bobbing around and seasick and stinking with fear... then dropping off into four feet of water with machine guns raking us and killing my buddies on both sides. But this is the hardest thing I've ever tried. Being a woman. I have to think about it every instant—do consciously the things you do automatically. Goodness, today I came within a split second of walking into a men's toilet instead of the ladies' powder room. And now you. Darling, can you guess what a temptation you are to me? Can you realize that old Johann is looking at your winsome loveliness out of Joan's eyes?

Winnie, there hasn't been a moment but what I've wanted to touch you. Hold you in my lap. Kiss you. Make love-to you. If I were a man... I'd be trying my damnedest to crowd Bob out. Or at least make room for me."

"Joan."

"Yes, dear?"

"There's room for you."

Joan found that she was trembling. "Darling! Please! Can't we wait? You have Bob...and I have still to learn to be a woman." She started to cry.

And found Winifred's arms around tier. "Stop it, dear. Please stop. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll help, of course I'll help. We'll wait. Years if you need that long. Until you're calmed down and sure of yourself—and want me. But Winnie isn't trying to seduce her Joanie. Oh, it can be sweet, truly it can. But you're right and I do have Bob and my nerves aren't frayed the way yours must be. Someday you'll fall in love with a man, and may forget all about me. Wanting to touch me, I mean—and that's all right, as long as I can love you and be your friend."

Joan dashed away a tear, and sniffed. "Thank you, Winnie. I've made a fool of myself again."

"No, you haven't. I just have trouble remembering, sometimes. Do you want a tranquilizer?"

"No. I'm all right now."

"Would you rather I didn't touch you?"

"No. I want you to kiss me, Winnie. Hard. Best you ever have. Then put on the green gee-string dress and let us look at it. Then we'll eat. And then grab some soapsuds and make me smell better for our prayer meeting with Jake—I need those prayers tonight; they're the right tranquilizer. Put it on, dear. But kiss me first."

Winnie kissed her—started to hold back, then flared like a prairie fire and did make it "best she ever had."

(Break, twin, before the house burns down. That's the fanciest tap dancing since Bojangles died.) (What do you

know about Bojangles? You can't know about him.) (Ever hear of classic films, Boss? Now see to it that Bob marries her; you owe her that, for the hurdles you mike her jump.)

(How can I when I don't know who he is?) (You can find out. Cheat. O'Neil knows. After you know who he is, find out what he wants; he'll geek. Men! Boss, I love you, but sometimes I'm not sure why.)

After Winnie modeled the emerald dress, she fetched in their trays from Joan's upstairs lounge while Joan opened the last package. It contained her present for Jake. "Winnie, tell me what you think of this."

It was a necklace rich and simple—a heavy gold chain with tripled linkage, supporting a large gold ankh, a crux ansata. Winifred took it in her hands. "It's lovely," she said slowly. "But it's not a woman's necklace, you know. Or did you?"

"It's a man's necklace. A present for Jake."

Winifred frowned slightly. "Joan, you do want me to help you learn how to behave as a woman."

"You know I do."

"Yes, I know. When I see that you are about to make a mistake, I must tell you."

"You don't think Jake will like this?"

"I don't know. He may not know what it means. And you may not know. This cross with a loop is called an ‘ankh'—and it's what my grandaddy would have called a ‘heathen symbol.' It means—well, it means most of the things our meditation prayer means, life and goodness and love and so forth. But specifically it means sex, it's an ancient Egyptian symbol for the generative forces, both male and female. It's no accident that the loop looks something like a vulva and that the rest of the design could be interpreted as a male symbol. The way it's used now—amongpeople my age, people the, age you have become—is...well, a wife could give it to her husband, or a husband could give a smaller one to his wife. Or they might not be married—but it always means sexual love—flatly and no nonsense about it. If that's not what you mean, Joan, if you just want to give him a nice necklace, take it back and exchange it for another that isn't so specific in its symbolism. Any necklace means love—but perhaps you want one that a daughter could give her father."

Joan shook her head. "No, Winnie. I've known what the ankh means since a course in comparative religion, oh, three-quarters of a century ago. I assume that Jake knows, too; he has solid classical training. I hadn't been sure you kids knew its ancient meaning—I see I was mistaken. Winnie, this present is no accident; I've asked Jake to marry me several times. He won't. Because of age."

"Well...I can see why he might feel that way."

"It's ridiculous. Sure, I'm a quarter of century older than he is—but it no longer shows and I'm healthy enough for marriage. Even though dear Doctor thinks I may drop dead."

"But Dr. Garcia doesn't really think you'll drop dead. And I didn't mean you were too old, I meant he—oh, dear!"

"Yes, yes, I know. He's being ‘noble,' damn him! But he doesn't have to marry me, Winnie. I'll accept any crumb I'm offered. This present is intended to say so."

Winifred looked solemn, suddenly kissed the ankh and handed it back. "You and me both, Joan—any crumb we're offered. Well, I wish you luck. With all my heart."

"Good Winnie. Let's sop up some calories; it's getting latish and Jake will be home—I hope—by twenty-one. I want to be clean as a kitten and just as pretty and smelling even prettier when the stubborn darling gets here. Help me?"

"Love to. And look, Joanie, we douse you in ‘Harem Breeze,' both the cologne and the perfume—and the powder. And I won't wear any scent. I'll scrub off what I'm wearing."

"No, we'll renew the bait on you, too. Maybe we'll heterodyne."

‘Heterodyne'?"

"Term that used to be used a lot in radio. In this case it means that if one girl isn't enough, two might do the trick. Last night Jake was polite about not staring...except that he was noticing my Winsome with both eyes all the time he was pretending not to. I'm not trying to crowd you into a Troy—but I have no scruples about staking you out as bait."

They were out of the tub and working on the finishing touches when the house phone sounded. "Miss Smith. Mr. Salomon's car just rolled in."

"Thank you, O'Neil."

A few minutes later Joan phoned the Green Suite. "Jake dear? This is your resident guru. If you wish to share a prayer meeting, guru and chela will call on you whenever you say."

"That's welcome news; I'm tired—and last night was the best sleep I've had in years, Guru."

"I'm glad. Have you had dinner?"

"At the Gib, hours ago. Ready for bed now. If you'll let me have, oh, twenty minutes, for a tub."

"Shall we be there in exactly twenty minutes? I don't want to run into Hubert."

"1 sent him to bed. Nobody here but just us chickens."

"Twenty minutes, dear. Off."

Again two girls went barefoot down the hallway. Joan was wearing, under a negligee, the ankh necklace. The door opened for them and Jake came toward them. He was wearing a bathrobe and had a book in hand with a finger marking his place. "Hello, my dears. You both look charming. Joan, I took the liberty of stopping in your downstairs library and borrowing this book."