I came back, more comfortable in a clean shirt and slacks I'd left there on a previous occasion. She was sitting at the small dining table, looking over the morning paper. As I watched her read, concentrating on the epidemic story, I examined that kissable mouth, the strong straight nose, the thoughtful eyes. She wasn't the most beautiful woman I'd known but she was loyal, intelligent and good, clear through. Somewhere deep inside, a small ache began and grew. I hadn't thought much about marriage as we had agreed to let our friendship ripen into something better, if it wanted to. Now, as I watched her there, waiting for breakfast with me, I knew I was tired of our present relationship. It wasn't enough that she was my friend and, on one recent occasion, my mistress. I wanted her for a wife. I was wondering how a childless marriage would work out when she looked up. "Breakfast's ready any time you are," she said softly. I went to her and raised her up. Then, slowly, without passion, I kissed her full on the lips. Her eyes were wide open and once more I saw the tears coming. "John, don't ... not now!" she whispered and turned away to start rattling around with the plates and the eggs and bacon. We sat near the window over our coffee and cigarettes, looking out at the blue sky and scudding white clouds. The wind had dissipated the water vapor so that no wisp of fog was left. The little waves in the bay tumbled and sparkled in the light and a small tug burst through them importantly, steaming along like a short fat woman heading for the bargain counter. "It's so beautiful, so peaceful out there," Pat murmured. "I can't believe we're in the middle of the greatest war in history." "Well, if the number of casualties is any indication, it makes even atomic warfare look mild by comparison."