“You told me,” said Martha. “I thought you were pleased. I know you’ve been wanting him to cut back on the time he spends trying to make a go of that place.”

“Yes, that’s true. Actually, he’s had it for sale for a month now.”

“What, you’re afraid he isn’t going to get his price for it?” asked Alice.

“No, he got his price last week.”

“Then what’s the problem?” asked Martha.

“I think he’s already spent the money.”

“On what?” asked Betsy. She knew Lars and Jill had been dating for a long time-two or even three years. They weren’t living together, or even officially engaged, but neither dated anyone else so far as Betsy knew.

“That’s just it, I don’t know. He’s been making long-distance calls and reading books about-something. You know Lars, working fifty hours a week isn’t enough to keep that man occupied. First it was boats, then it was the hobby farm. I don’t know what’s next, flying lessons or do-it-yourself dentistry. That’s what’s bothering me-he never talks to me before he decides what he’s going to do.”

Godwin said, “Some men are just terrible at sharing their plans. Afraid they’ll start an argument, I guess.”

“Are you having trouble with John again?” asked Alice, sometimes as perceptive as she was tactless.

“No, not exactly. Well, actually, it’s me who doesn’t want to start the argument.” Godwin lived with a wealthy attorney, an older man who, by Godwin’s telling, was kind, generous, and very possessive.

Alice, who had sat down next to the Dazor, made a sudden exclamation.

“What?” asked Betsy.

Alice had casually turned the light on and, instead of using it to light her crochet project, had taken a scrap of twenty-count Jobelan from the basket to look at it through the big magnifying glass. “I can see this!” she said.

“So can I,” said Godwin, who was at the other end of the table from her.