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"I don't know what you're keeping in that icebox, but it makes everything taste funny.”

"It must be that half a cantaloupe you didn't eat," Marshall said agreeably, "though I don't see how with these covers."

"I don't know what you're trying to prove. I don't think you will either. Unless you're trying to imply that I don't eat because I'm unhappy, which I readily admit."

"Now, Alice, please don't put those wing bones back in the bowl."

"Why don't you admit that you enjoy my unhappiness?"

"A supper of leftovers isn't a very cheerful prospect, but that's the price of entertaining guests. I could have made a casserole out of these things, but you always say you like to know what you're eating. You didn't seem so unhappy last night."

"What happened last night? You certainly can't mean that a pickup supper and a rummy game would affect my spirits."

Marshall made no reply, but dumped some cole slaw into a dish that already had pickled beets in it. Alice went to the window and looked out of it, as though commenting on the view which it disclosed. On the six-lane superhighway just beyond the hedge, cars thundered by, bound for dramatic New York.

"If you'll set the table," Marshall said, "it will be all ready to eat."

Alice turned from the window in a dazed way and began dreamily to lay out the California dinnerware.

"Seriously, I prefer to eat in the dining room," Marshall said. "It's nicer."

"Look, Fin," Alice said, "let's stop kidding ourselves. I want to go to the city."

"Where's the basket for the bread? It's hot."

"Marshall, I want to go to the city."

"There's nothing to do in the city at night. Besides, I have to go there every day," he added in a sulky tone.

"Now you're cross perhaps you'll tell me the truth: aren't you unhappy?"

"No, and I don't think it's too good an idea to spend time in thinking about things like that."

"How else do you suggest I spend my time—eating?"

"Dear, I can see you're not yourself, so if you'd like to go to a movie, fine. I wouldn't even be averse to going into the city, provided of course we don't take the car."

Alice threw some food onto her plate and wouldn't answer.

"The bread will be too dry to eat if we don't find that basket soon."

"Who knows, maybe I threw it out with the leftover Korn Kurls."

This seemed to wound Marshall. Then he discovered the bread basket propping up a copy of Life on the back of the range. It was open to a two-page photograph of the New York skyline. Marshall served the bread, and for some minutes an ill-natured silence reigned. Soon both realized that the house had begun to grow quite cold.

"I suppose I forgot to shake the furnace again," Alice said. But neither stirred. “I suppose I should go shake it or look at it." She pushed away the bowl of beets and slaw which Marshall had not offered her. "I suppose if I did want to go to the movies, you'd try to get me to go to one in town."

"You seem to think I am patience itself," Marshall said. Suddenly there came a gentle tapping at the kitchen door. Alice got up from the table and went down into the basement. Marshall glided across the room with careful steps to admit their visitor. It was a small, very pretty young woman.

"You are probably eating," she said, "and wonder why I came to the side door."

"We usually eat in the dining room," Marshall said, gazing beyond her at a few flakes of snow which had begun to fall. "Snow always makes me think of my childhood," he muttered as he shut the door after she had passed into the unlighted kitchen.

"Someone seems to be trying to break your furnace," murmured the now almost invisible girl. "I came over because the radio says it's going to snow. There weren't any lights in front."

"Wouldn't you like to sit down and eat something?" Marshall asked, stifling a yawn.

"We're eating in the kitchen to economize on heating bills. Alice likes to feel there's something going into the bank."

The guest pulled her fur coat more tightly about her shoulders and looked about the room with apparent interest. "I think a fireplace in your kitchen is lovely. It makes a very nice room of it."

"We of course made no attempt to alter this old place when we took it over, beyond a few slight repairs." Marshall seemed aware of the young woman for the first time. "I wanted to have the fireplace bricked up because it cools the house, but so many people commented on it we decided to leave it."

"You don't seem to see so many people."

"Look, snow is coming down it now."

An especially loud clang from the basement caused them both to start. "You sit down and I'll get you a cup of coffee. I'll put on the lights and call Alice," Marshall announced.

Alice's dim form appeared in the door. "I think I've just blown a fuse. Hello, Fabia."

"That's very funny. The fuses at our house blew out too. It must be general."

"We have no more fuses," Marshall said. "I should hate to go anywhere and come back to a dark house."

"Fat chance," Alice said. "Why, it's snowing." She went to the kitchen door and opened it.

"We could watch television in the dark," Marshall said to Fabia. "Except of course the set wouldn't work either. But we might light some candles and play rummy after I wash the dishes, if Alice is through eating."

Alice had taken a few steps outside into the yard. A chill wind made the kitchen unbearable. Fabia and Marshall drew closer together. “I’m not sure I'm equal to rummy two nights in a row," Fabia said. "But you better hunt up the candles before it's too dark to find them."

"My dears, I can't tell you how divinely bracing it is out," Alice said returning. "We simply must take a walk, at least as far as the shopping center."

"We could buy some fuses," Marshall said.

Their departure was complicated by Marshall's discovery that the electricity was still on in half of the house. "All the television in the world won't make the rest of the lights work," Alice said. "If you're coming with us, take off that apron."

"It's too bad you didn't take your coat off in the house, Fabia," Marshall said as they walked down the drive. "I'm afraid you'll catch cold now."

"I never catch cold," Fabia said.

Alice persisted in her mood of spiritual exaltation. "Look at the trees and telephone wires," she said. "On a night like this New York doesn't compel me so much."

"You always talk of New York as though it were a thousand miles away," Fabia said.

"You know you can go there any time you want to." Alice and Marshall ignored this remark.

The snow was fine and dry, the temperature slightly below freezing. They walked past a deserted skating rink, and a group of fir trees which the Rotary Club had caused to be hung with lights. Further on, where the superhighway became a cloverleaf, they turned off to the right, and bought some fuses at a hardware store which had officially closed. Fabia suggested they have a drink at a nearby Howard Johnson's.

"You two go ahead if you like," Alice said. "I'll walk around in the snow and wait for you."

"I don't know if we ought to have left her alone," Marshall said as they entered the dining room. "When Alice is feeling inspired, she often goes to unusual lengths to prevent herself from looking silly."

"What could she do on her own?" Fabia asked.

"I think this is quite a pleasant place," Marshall said. "If Alice gets tired she will probably go home. She has the fuses."

Fabia paid her customary respects to the new surroundings, and then lapsed into the sorrowful silence which was her natural state.