"If I’m working for you now," she said, "it's time you got some rest."
Time never passes as quickly as when it's running out, he thought.
Somehow, everything seems sharper, clearer to the mind, even decisions are arrived at more easily.
Perhaps it was because the responsibility for them couldn't come home to roost. No one can win an argument with a grave.
He felt the pain race through him like a knife.
He didn't flinch but from her face, he knew that she knew.
A strange kind of communication had grown between them. Words weren't necessary.
There were times he thought she felt the pain, too.
"Maybe you'd better go to bed," she said.
"Not just yet. I want to talk to you."
"O.K.," she said. "Go ahead."
"You're not going back to the hospital, are you?"
"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."
"You'll never be happy in a job like that again.
I've spoiled you. There's nothing like a lot of money."
She laughed.
"You're so right, Charlie.
I've been thinking about that. Nothing's going to seem right ever again."
He studied her thoughtfully.
"I could leave you something in my will, or even marry you.
But my children would probably make a federal case out of it and say you influenced me.
All you'd get is a lot of grief."
She met his gaze. "Thanks for thinking about it, anyway, Charlie."
"You need to make a lot of money," he said.
"Why did you decide to be a nurse?
You always wanted to be one?"
"No." She shrugged her shoulders. "What I really wanted to be was another Helen Wills. But I got a scholarship to St. Mary's, so I went."
"Even being a tennis bum takes money."
"I know. Anyway, it's too late now.
I'd be satisfied if I could just make enough to hire the best pro around and play two hours every day."
"See!" he said triumphantly. "That's a hundred bucks a day, right there."
"Yeah.
I’ll probably end up back at the hospital."
"You don't have to."
"What do you mean?" she asked, looking at him. "That's all I ever trained for."
"You started training for something else long before you studied nursing. Becoming a woman."
"Well, I couldn't have trained so well, then," she said wryly.
"The first time I ever acted like a woman, I got my head knocked off."
"You mean Dr. Grant in Frisco?"
"How do you know about that?"
"Mostly a guess," he said.
"But the paper automatically checks up on everyone who comes near me.
Grant's got that reputation and the fact that you worked for him and left in such a hurry led me to that surmise.
What happened?
His wife catch you?"
She nodded slowly.
"It was horrible."
"It always is when you're emotionally involved," he said. "It's happened to me more than once." He refilled his glass with champagne. "The trick is not to become emotionally involved."
"How do you do that?"
"By making it pay," he said.