Liz laughed. Now it was her turn. "Why is it that all you big-city folk think small towns are always friendly and nosy? Some may be, but not all, and surely not Fullerton. My hometown had only three thousand people – ten times smaller than Fullerton – and people there were even less friendly than they are here. And as for boredom, look at me: I've lived all thirty-five years of my life in towns like Fullerton or worse, and I'm quite content. So I get a little bored at times – so what? I'm sure you got a little bored every once in awhile even in Chicago."

Carmen stretched, extending her long legs out along the seat of the couch until her bare feet nearly touched Liz's curled-up legs. "I suppose people get bored everywhere, but at least in a place like Chicago things are more liberal – if you know what I mean." She simpered at Liz. "You know, more open, freer."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Less prudish. Sexually liberated."

Liz felt herself flush. "More wine?"

"Certainly, darling. I thought you'd never ask."

Liz got up and went to the kitchen for the wine bottle. She was beginning to find her new neighbor's conversation annoying. In the hour since Carmen had appeared at the door, her black hair in waist-length braids like some schoolgirl, her feet bare, Carmen had insulted Fullerton more than once and had brought the conversation repeatedly around to sex. Liz was about ready to tell Carmen that she had work to do, that Carmen would have to leave. There was something strange about Carmen's glinting hazel eyes, something devilish, something that made Liz uneasy. Liz returned to the living room.