“That's okay," Shelley said. "It's why we’re here. To share viewpoints, as well as learn about the facility."

“I think you've got something there," John Claypool said to Bob. "When Sam and I were kids, our folks sent us to camp for a couple summers and it was great!”

Sam, precise and tidy in his blazer, tie, and city-neat hair, just cocked an eyebrow.

John caught the look and said, "Yeah, I know you didn't like it as well as I did, but you were always a brainy kid, more interested in schoolwork than a good tussle with the boys."

“The 'boys' were savages," Sam said coldly.

Sam's wife, Marge, leaped in to avert controversy, as if by long habit. "This camp plan isn't just for boys, is it?" she asked too brightly.

Bob Rycraft answered. "We're hoping for two sessions. Either one for boys and one for girls, or possibly two mixed sessions — depending on a lot of factors."

“Like what?" Eileen Claypool said with a suggestion of a leer.

“Like the room arrangements," Bob said, apparently missing the leer. "You can't physically lock the kids up to keep the boys and girls apart. I'm sure there are fire regulations about that, and if there aren't, there should be. If the boys and the girls came at the same time, we'd have to pay for extra staff just to make sure they weren't sneaking out and meeting in the woods at night."

“On the other hand, how many of the girls are going to want to go camping if boys aren't involved?" Shelley asked.

Jane was on the point of echoing this sentiment when she realized she'd somehow slopped some gravy on her sleeve when she passed it to John Claypool. Since she'd brought a minimum of clothes, she thought she'd better wash it out. "Where's the rest room?" she said quietly to Benson, who was sitting at her end of the table.