Steve's thoughts took on more clarity and finally he put his doubt into words. It's too pat, he thought. Too easy, too--rehearsed. The casual meeting; the tour of the Cockatoo; the surreptitious drive here; drinks, whisptered words and demanding kisses. And now a stae prop, the clincher, the sandbag; one shimmering silver gegligee upon Margo's beautiful, naked body. Or was he imagining things, torturing himself by resisting the need that had grown for years inside him?

1958.