stallion in the pool, she had continued to witch-ride his man’s imagination. He was anything but unused to women; and his general attitude was that of being tired of the mediocre sameness of them. To chance upon the unusual woman was like finding the great pearl in a lagoon fished out by a generation of divers.

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” Paula laughed to him, a little later.

She was prepared to depart with Lute for bed. A second bridge quartet had been arranged — Ernestine, Bert, Jeremy Braxton, and Graham; while O’Hay and Bishop were already deep in a bout of two-handed pinochle.

“He’s really a charming Irishman when he keeps off his one string,” Paula went on.