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her arms as if his grip had bruised her。
'Haven't we met before？〃 he said。
Her lips jerked in a quick quirky smile。 'You can do better than that； can't you？'
'No。 I mean it。 I've seen you somewhere before。'
Her eyes darted for a moment over his shoulder。 When they again alighted on him she said； 'I don't think …'
He snapped his fingers。 'In Sam Goldman's office。 The fall or the winter。〃 He cocked his head。 I'm not mistaken。〃
Her eyes seemed to clear as if； with Sam's name； some almost invisible curtain had been raised within them。 'I know Sam Goldman；' she said slowly。 'I've done some freelance jobs for him。' Now she put one long forefinger up to the centre of her lips； the clear…lacquered nail burnished by the light。 The inconstant sound of the voices down the beach seemed to swell like the roar of a crowd at the advent of a grand…slam home run or a bit of defensive heroics in the outfield。
'You're Nicholas Linnear；' she said； and when he nodded she pointed at him。 'He talks about you all the time。'
He smiled。 'But you don't remember our meeting。'
She shrugged。 'I don't know； really。 When I'm involved in my work。。。' Her shoulders lifted； fell again。
Nicholas laughed。 'I might have been somebody important。'
'Judging by your reputation； you are。 But you just walked away from all of it。 I think that's odd。'
Squinting up at him； sunglasses； she looked no more than a college girl； as if the sunlight passing through her had somehow illuminated some previously hidden inner innocence。 At last her eyes slid away from him。 'What's going on up there； anyway？〃
'They found a body in the ocean。'
'Oh？ Whose？〃
He shrugged。 'I've no idea。〃
'Haven't you just e from there？〃 Her gaze slid back from the distance over his left shoulder； touching his face。 It was like a cool summer's breeze after sundown。 'You must've seen them pull it out。〃 Her eyes were better than arms； keeping him at a carefully measured distance。 There was something peculiarly childlike in that； he thought。 A hurt child … or scared。 It made him want to reach out and touch her reassuringly。
'I left before it happened；' he said。
'Aren't you in the least bit curious？〃 She seemed unmindful of the wind that flicked at the thick mane of her dark hair。 'It could be someone from around here。 You know how incestuous this place is … we're all from the same business。〃
'I have no interest in it。 No。〃
She unfolded her arms； put her hands in the front pockets of her cut…off jeans。 She wore a plain； sleeveless top。 It was turquoise and set off her eyes。 Her firm breasts swelled with her breathing； the nipples visible points。 Her waist was narrow； her legs long and elegant。 She moved like a dancer。
'But you do have interests； I see；〃 she said flatly。 'How would you feel if I looked at you that way？〃
'Flattered；' he said。 Td certainly feel flattered。'
Justine was an advertising art designer； living four houses down the beach； who found it convenient to work out of the city during the summer。
'I loathe New York in the summer；' she told him the next afternoon over drinks。 'Do you know that I once spent the entire summer in my apartment with the air conditioning on full and never once moving out of the door？ I was deathly afraid I'd get overwhelmed by the stench of dogshit。 I'd call D'Agostino and have them send up the food and； once or twice a week； the office would send up this big brawny fag … who was doing the director under the desk during coffee breaks … to take my designs and bring me my cheques。 But even with that； it wasn't enough and I was forced out。 I threw some stuff in a bag and took the first flight out to Paris。 I stayed two weeks while the office went batshit looking for me。' She turned her head half away from him； sipping at her Manhattan。 'However； when I got back； the only thing that had really changed was mat the fag was gone。'
The sun was ing down； the sea devouring its crimson bulk； colour lay shimmering on the water。 Then； quite abruptly； it was dark： not even the little lights bobbing far out to sea。
It was like that with her； he reflected。 Brilliant colour； stories on the surface； but what lay beneath； in the night？
'You're not going back to Columbia；' she said； 'in the fall。'
'No； I'm not。'
She said nothing； sat back on the Haitian cotton couch； her slender arms spread wide along the back； they went out of the pools of lamplight； seemed dark wings； hovering。 Then she cocked her head to one side and it seemed to him as if the icefloe had cracked； ing apart。
'I fell in love with the campus；' he said； deciding to answer her by starting at the beginning。 'Of course； it was the be…ginning of February； but I could imagine the red brick walkways lined with flowering magnolia and dogwood； quince in among the ancient oaks。
〃The course itself … Sources of Oriental Thought … wasn't really too bad at all。 The students at least were inquisitive and； when awake； fairly bright … some of them startlingly so。 They seemed surprised that I was interested in them。
'I was curious about this； at first； but as the semester wore on； I came to understand what it was all about。 The other professors giving the course had appallingly little time to devote to the students； they were extremely busy researching their latest books。 And when they were actually teaching； they treated their students with contempt。
'I remember sitting in on a class just after mid…term。 Drs Eng and Royston； who taught the meat of the course； announced at the beginning of the session that the mid…term papers had been graded and were ready to be returned。 Royston then proceeded to give his lecture。 When the bell rang； Eng asked the students to remain seated and； with perfect precision； laid out four piles of papers on the floor at the front of the hall。 〃Those students with last names beginning with letters A through F will find their papers here；〃 he said； pointing to the pile on his right。 And so on。 Then they had both turned away and left the hall before the first students even had time to kneel； scrabbling through the piles。
'It was degrading；' Nicholas said。 'That kind of lack of respect for another human being is something I just cannot tolerate。'
'So you liked teaching。'
He thought that a curious thing to say。 'I didn't mind it。' He made himself another gin and tonic； squeezed a section of lemon before dropping it into the ice…filled glass。 'In the end it was the other professors who made the semester seem long to me。 I don't imagine they thought too much of me。 After all； the halls of academe are rather closed。 Everyone there is bound by the stringency of the situation。 〃Publish or perish〃 has bee a cliché； I suppose。 But for them it's a reality which they must face every day。〃 He shrugged。 'I imagine they resented my status。 I had all the best parts of their life without any of the responsibilities。'
'And Royston and Eng。 What were they like？'
'Oh； Royston was okay； I suppose。 Rather stuffy in the beginning but…he thawed a bit later on。 But Eng' … he shook his head … 'Eng was a bastard all right。 He had made up his mind about me before we had…even been introduced。 The three of us happened to he in the lounge one afternoon。 〃So you were born in Singapore；〃 he said。 Just like that。 Standing over me； peering down at me through his round wire…rimmed spectacles。 That's what they must have been； they were far too old…fashioned to be called glasses。 He had a curious manner of speech； his words emerging clipped； almost frozen； so that you could imagine them hanging in mid…air like icicles。 〃A disgusting city； if you will pardon my saying so。 Built by the British； who had no more regard for the Chinese than they did for the Indians。〃'
'What did you say？'
'Frankly； I was too stunned to say much of anything；' he said gloomily。 'The bastard had hardly said two words to me all semester。 He took me quite by surprise。'
'You had no snappy rejoinder。'
'Only that he was wrong。 I was conceived there。' He put down his glass。 'I asked Dean Whoolson about it subsequently but he merely brushed it off。 〃Eng's a …genius；〃 was how he put it。 〃And you know how that sort is sometimes。 I must tell you； we are damn lucky to hav