"Eh? What, dear?"

"If Joe wanted this body I'm wearing, of course he could have it; I owe him anything I can give him. You see that, don't you? You agree? Or am I wrong?"

"Uh....es, I agree. But I think it's well that Joe does not want to. It could be disaster for him...and a terrible strain for you."

"I know it would be a strain for me. But I would do my best to smile and never let him guess. As it is, I am honored—and relieved—and deeply grateful that Joe has given me his loving friendship instead." (Okay, Eunice?) (Okay. Now get him off that subject.)

"I'm glad, Eunice."

"Jake, do we have to stand here, me still in street clothes? I have presents for you—welcome-home presents." She smiled her best happy-little-girl smile. "Want to see them?"

"Of course I want to see them! And where are my manners, letting you stand? Here, let me seat you and take your cloak. Sherry?"

"Later. Or champagne, to welcome you home. ‘To welcome us both home." She turned and let him take her cape. He turned to lay it aside and turned back just as she did so, too.

"Holy Cowl"

"Didn't know you were a Hindu, Jake." She posed, in graceful and calculated display.

"You wore that all the way across the city? Just paint?"

"Why not, dear? It's your first present—from Joe to you, sent with his love. I had my cape over it before I left Joe and Gigi's studio, and then kept it on when I got home—until you unwrapped your ‘present.' Didn't want my mobiles to see it, of course." (Oh, of course, twin—except that Joe let them watch every brush stroke, once Gigi was sure you didn't mind. Say, Joan, Gigi would go for a Texas Star with Anton and Fred, I feel certain. And Joe would go along; he likes them. What do you think? Easy way to keep your promise to them, huh?)

(Eunice, we've got this man on our hands now.) (Oh, poor you. Best way in the world to work up steam with one man is to let your mind rove about other men. You've still got some Puritan in you, girl.) (Which Puritan? When? And why didn't I notice? You can't mean Jake; he's Jewish. Speaking of Jake, has he noticed that slight omission in this getup? And why haven't we been raped?) (I doubt it, his eyeballs are spinning. As for the latter, I have-hopes.)

"Joan Eunice, do you.. realize that that is a reproduction—exact, I think—of a body-paint design Eunice once wore?"

"Of course I realize it; she wore it here...and I wasn't so near dead that I didn't stare. Could never make up my mind whether these were sea shells or paint. Now I know. Joe wanted to be sure that you had seen it that first time, when Eunice wore it. I told him that I was almost certain that you had been here that day."

"Well, yes, I was. Briefly. That's why I recognized it."

"So? It had seemed to me that I recalled that as one of the days you took Eunice home. Hmmm?"

"Joan, are you trying to be snoopy?"

"Yes."

"Woman, I will not satisfy your prurient curiosity."

"How do you feel about satisfying prurience itself? Mine, I mean."

"That's another matter."

"I was wondering. So far you haven't even kissed me. Shall I take a shower first? Or let me put it this way: Did Eunice take time to get the paint off first?"

"Let me put it this way: Shut up and keep quiet and pipe down and not another damn word out of you until I give permission."

"Yes, sir."

She obeyed in essence for a reasonable time.

"May I talk now?"

"Yes, as long as you limit yourself to polite words of endearment. Some of your spontaneous remarks were quite unladylike."

"That's because I'm quite unladylike, Jake my only darling. I'm a failure as a lady. But I'll go on doing my best to simulate one in public—be a credit to Eunice."

"Joan Eunice—"

"Sir?"

"That's the way Eunice herself did it. A perfect lady in public... utterly uninhibited in private. It was a major part of her-great charm. Some of her spontaneous expressions at such times were far more ‘unladylike' than any I've heard you use."

"Really, Jake? Did she know any that I don't? And do you like them?"

"Hmm, I don't think she knew any that you don't know; she was just easier about it once she trusted me. Yes, I do like them. Used spontaneously."

"Jake, I trust you without limit—and I'll try not to inhibit any future spontaneity. Haven't meant to. Still learning."

"Darling girl, you do just fine when you get your rest. I mean ‘my rest.' Now that I've got you helpless—and seeing that you trust me ‘without limit'—what did, happen at Joe's."

"Sir, the fact that I trust you—and I do!—does not mean that I'm going to satisfy your prurient curiosity." -

"Hmm— Neither did Eunice, ever."

"Instead, you tell me what happened to you—atJoe's."

"We seem to have reached a stalemate. Let's wash off this paint. I wish I had taken a photograph of our mermaid before I smeared it."

"No huhu, Jake my beloved; Joe took several and I have them in my purse. For you. And I have two of Eunice in the same getup—one for you, and one for me. And besides that Joe gave me a four-by-five Kodachrome of a most incredible trompe-l'oeil painting he did of Eunice as a mermaid diving... plus a smaller transparency which shows how he did it. Same getup minus sea shells."

"Would it surprise you to learn that I've seen them both? Just didn't have the crust to promote Joe for them."

"No, not surprised, I guess. But I did not pressure him, Jake; he said he had a present for me—and these photos turned out to be the present. I should refuse? God forbid. But I'm going to put snoops to work and trace down who bought that painting. I intend to own it. Price no-object."

"Your money won't help you, Miss Smith. Would it surprise you to know that I own that original Branca? It's at the Gib."

"I'll be—dipped! Jake, you're a dirty old holdout. I take back ten percent of any compliments I've handed you."

"That's okay; I didn't believe more than ninety percent. But if you're a good girl I'll give you that painting."

"I accept! But—well, it's hardly worthwhile opening those packages. They'll be disappointments."

"Would you like a spanking?"

"Yes."

"I'm too tired. Let's open packages."

"Well...we might open the smaller one. Let you see what Gigi looks like, if you don't remember. She's worth looking at."

"We'll open both of them."

"Scrub first?"

"I suppose we should."

"Well...let's give it a lick and promise, not turn it into a social event."

Joan Eunice insisted on opening ‘Bilitis Sings' first.

"Well, Jake?"

He gave a respectful wolf whistle. "The boy's a genius."

"Yes. I hadn't suspected. But you already knew it."

"Well, yes. His decision to use strong sunlight on your two contrasting skin colors was inspired."

"Especially as he had no sunlight—just smog-filtered north light, soft as old linen. Those highlights come from photographing us under floods the night before. Then he painted from us the next day. Changed the pose, though—and I don't know how he corrected the highlights. But I'm no genius."

"What's in the big package?"

"Open it."

It was ‘The Three Graces'—and all three were Joan Eunice. "Joe calls this a ‘cheat pic,' Jake—he photographed me three times—erase and correct—more nearly thirty-three times, against a neutral background, then combined three photos for his cartoon. Had Gigi pose with me each time to get arms-around-waist and so forth, then she would slither out like a snake without disturbing my pose. If be hadn't used ‘cheat' the painting would have taken far longer. Aren't those dimples in my behind cute?"

"Woman, you are conceited enough."

"I'm not conceited, Jake; I wasn't handsome even when I was young. I know whose beautiful bottom that is. Well dear? I had intended ‘Bilitis' for me and the ‘Graces' for you—but you can have your choice."