“Goodness—is it some rare specimen or something?” “Puffball,” I managed to say. “No good.” I hardly spoke, I could hardly speak, as we filled our second baskets. I was sure the pounding of my heart must show through my shirt, and several times I thought I saw her looking curiously at me. “Let’s eat now,” I suggested hoarsely. I found a pine with low-hanging boughs and tore down enough to make a dry, soft place to sit while Catty unpacked our picnic. “Here’s an egg,” she said; “I’m starved.” We ate; that is, she ate and I pretended to. I was half dazed, half terrified. I watched her swift motions, the turn of her head, the clean, sharp way she bit into the food, and averted my eyes every time her glance crossed mine. “Well,” she murmured at last; “I suppose we mustnt sit idle any longer. Come on, lazy; back to work.” “Catty,” I whispered. “Catty.” “What is it, Hodge?” “Wait.” Obediently she paused. I reached over and took her in my arms. She looked at me, not startled, but questioning. Just as my mouth reached hers she moved slightly so that I kissed her cheek instead of her lips. She did not struggle but lay passively, with the same questioning expression. I held her, pressing her against the pine boughs, and found her mouth. I kissed her eyes and throat and mouth again. Her eyes stayed open and she did not respond. I undid the top of her dress and pressed my face between her breasts. “Hodge.” I paid no attention. “Hodge, wait. Listen to me. If this is what you want you know I will not try to stop you. But Hodge, be sure. Be very sure.” “I want you, Catty.” “Do you? Really want _me_, I mean.” “I don’t know what you mean. I want you.” But it was already too late; I had made the fatal error of pausing to listen. Angrily I moved away, picked up my basket and sullenly began to search for mushrooms again. My hands still trembled and there was a quiver in my legs. To complement my mood a cloud drifted across the sun and the warm woods became chilly. “Hodge.” “Yes?” “Please don’t be angry. Or ashamed. If you are I shall be sorry.” “I don’t understand.” She laughed. “Oh my dear Hodge. Isnt that what men always say to women? And isnt it always true?” Suddenly the day was no longer spoiled. The tension melted and we went on picking mushrooms with a new and fresh innocence. After this I could no longer keep all thoughts of Catty out of the intimacy with Barbara; now for the first time her jealousy had grounds. I felt guilty toward both, not because I desired both, but because I didnt totally desire either. Now, years later, I condemn myself for the lost rapturous moments; at the time I procrastinated and hesitated as though I had eternity in which to make decisions. I was, as Tyss had said, the spectator type, waiting to be acted upon, waiting for events to push me where they would. _16._ _OF VARIED SUBJECTS_ “I can’t think of anything more futile,” said Kimi, “than to be an architect at this time in the United States.”