It wasn't the way she had imagined it would be when she was married. What with punching Brendel's meals, sending out his clothes, going collecting with him and quarreling, she hardly had a minute. And the same stupid people, Elka, Ferren, her mother and father, were always there. The bell rang. Her father scowled, seeing Ferren on Brendel's best sitshelf. "Where?" he said grimly. "Mexico," she said. "Pottery," he said, going. The bell rang. A heavy-jawed youth said, "Miss Webster gave me--" "My mother has gone to Mexico." She slammed the door. Minutes later Sella Kyle gridded in, crisp, prim, blonde. "I haven't seen you in such a time, Poll. Coffee?" She entertained Sella and wished she would go and knew Ferren knew she wanted Sella to go and found it amusing. Every five minutes the collectors rang. She had just talked Sella out the door when Lukia Collins gridded in. Lukia had never been Pollony's close friend in school. But now Lukia was always near, pushing, prodding at Pollony, smiling too brightly at Brendel. "You two _are_ coming to lunch with me." "I've already asked Ferren to lunch." "Silly, he can punch his own." "Oh, no," Pollony said. "I take the silver." Ferren smiled comfortably. Lukia flipped her hand at him. "Atrocious man. Now, Pollony--" It ended with Lukia inviting herself to come back to lunch. She had hardly vacated the grid when Elka appeared. She unwrapped her purchases, smirking at Ferren. "You'd be surprised the number of hats a girl needs." She stayed half an hour. Another young man came for her mother. Two salesman, a traveling circular and a friend came. Then Brendel was on the grid. "Who these lugs for?" "Uncle Ferren," she said shortly. He lifted a lip at them, then bounced inside. "Forget your bill, Ferry? Hey, kid, punch drinks." "I refused to honor it," Ferren said. Brendel was already fishing in his pocket. "Drinks, kid." She went to punch. She hated his trying to give money to everyone who came along. "No, no, it is a matter of principle," Ferren insisted. But the money changed hands. "And there were certain other obligations." "How much you need?" Brendel fished into his pocket again, grinning. * * * * * The bell rang. It was Lukia. "All these ravenous people waiting on me?" She had changed into a fire-red daysuit. "Dobble, you should have fed the beasts." She snapped her fingers. "Up, beasts. I'll help you punch, dob." Glowering, Pollony moved toward the cook. Brendel followed, chattering and arguing with Lukia. Pollony was beginning to think again of a swiftly accelerating car, of her body encased beside that of Latsker Smith and hurtled through dusty streets. Brendel said, "How many for opera?" She whirled and glared. "Pollony's a bug on opera. Tell them how you like opera, kid." She glared. The last time Lukia and Ferren had been here he had done this, and the time before. Didn't he have any imagination? "Tell them, kid."