He shook his head. «Haven't the faintest idea who you are. Should I know? Are you someone important?»

Again the hint of pout. «No-o. Well, maybe some people think so, but not really. If you see what I mean?»

«I don't. Does it matter?»

The girl stood up. «No. Not the slightest: I like it. We'll have a game, shall we?»

Blade smiled. «By all means. What kind of a game?»

«We won't tell names. Now or ever. And we must each promise never to try to see the other again: Will you do that? We're strangers now and we'll stay strangers. We will never, never see each other again. Whatever we say, or whatever happens between us, will be forgotten when this day is over. It will be like it never happened. Do you promise?»

«Whatever happens? What do you expect to happen?»

A shrug of slim shoulders, a liquidity of unrestrained breasts beneath the dress. «I don't know. Neither do you. This is part of the game. We just let things develop naturally. Maybe nothing will happen.»

Blade laughed. «That I do not like to think about. But all right, I promise. When does the game start?»

She knelt beside him again. «Right now. But first we have to have names-no, don't tell me your real one. I mean made up names. Hmmm-let me see.»

Her eyes roved over his body. She traced a finger through his chest hair. «I think,» said Blade, «that I am going to like this game.»

She put a hand over his mouth. Her fingers were cool and crusted with sand. «Be quiet. Ummm, yes. Hercules. No help for it. It's obvious, and a little trite, but you will just have to be Hercules. You agree?»

Blade reached for his cigarettes and lighter on a nearby blanket. «I suppose I must. As long as I don't have to clean out my stables. Who are you going to be? Something mythical and classical as well?»