"He'll stay. Come here and kiss me. What did you tell Cunningham?"

"Dinner for two, in here, just as you said-to be served when you rang. But Mr. Salomon seemed quite firm about leaving."

"I still say he'll stay. But if he doesn't, you come eat dinner with me. Would you fetch my pumps? Over there on the floor beyond the piano."

The nurse looked, fetched the pumps, stood over Joan Eunice, and sighed. "Joan, I don't know what to do about you. You've been a bad girl again. Why didn't you ring?"

"Don't scold me, dear. Here, sit on the stool and lean against my knees and talk. There. Now tell me-By any chance were you ever a lady's maid before you took nurse's training?"

"No. Why?"

"You did such a fine job of taking care of me in the bath and getting me pretty. Well, it was just a thought. I don't suppose a nurse-a professional woman-would consider a job as a maid. No matter how high the salary. But Dr. Garcia is going to insist that I have a nurse after he leaves. I don't need a nurse and you know it. But dear Doctor will insist. I do need a maid; I won't be able to dress myself at first-women's clothes are so different. Not to mention knowing nothing about makeup. Or buying women's clothes. What are you paid now, Winnie?"

The nurse told her.

"Goodness! No wonder they're always saying there's a shortage of nurses. I can't hire an in-house guard at that price. What would you think of staying on as my nurse-but actually doing things for me that a maid would do and I don't know how to do-at three times your present salary? With whatever you wish paid in cash so that you won't have to report it?"

The redhead looked thoughtful. "How would you want me to dress, Joan?"

"That's up to you. Your white nurse's uniform, if you prefer it-since you'll be my nurse in Dr. Garcia's eyes. Or what you wish. There's a bedroom through that door where my valet used to sleep. With a nice bath-and another room beyond it which we can redo as your living room. Redecorate all three rooms to suit your taste. Your private apartment."

(Boss, what was that about not shooting ducks on water?) (Stuff it, Eunice. If she takes the bait, it's better than hiring some illit and having to train her-and then have her steal the jewelry and drop out about the time she's some use.) (Oh, I see advantages. But you place Winnie one unlocked door away and she'll be in bed with you before you can say 'Sappho.' You You may not want men in our life-but may not want men in our life-but I I do.) (Oh, nonsense! She's already thinking about the money. If she takes the job, she'll be more standoffish-she'll start calling us 'Miss' again.) do.) (Oh, nonsense! She's already thinking about the money. If she takes the job, she'll be more standoffish-she'll start calling us 'Miss' again.) "Miss Joan? It'll really be my own own apartment? I can entertain?" apartment? I can entertain?"

"Of course, dear. Private. Oh, Cunningham's staff will clean and so forth, any service you want. Breakfast tray, whatever. Or never enter it if you prefer it that way."

"It sounds heavenly. I'm sharing a room with two other girls . . . at a rent that's horrid because it's inside an enclave. Safe-but I never have any privacy. privacy."

"Winnie. Look at me, dear, and lay it on the line. The bed in there now is, I believe, a single. Would you like to have it replaced with a big, big double bed?"

The girl blushed. "Uh, it would be nice."

"So stop blushing. I won't know you have a visitor unless you tell me; that door is soundproof. Of course visitors have to be identified and checked for weapons, just as visitors to an enclave have to be-but that simply means you must vouch for a visitor to my chief guard the first visit. But I won't know it unless you choose to tell me. The in-house staff all have visitors. But security is my chief guard's worry, not mine."

"But he does have to show his I.D.?"

"You still would have to vouch for him to Chief O'Neil but-Hold the countdown. Did you mean he would rather not show an LD.? Is he married, or something?"

Winnie blushed again, did not answer. Joan Eunice went on, "n.o.body's business, dear. This is a private home, not a government compound. You vouch for him, that's enough. Chief O'Neil doesn't trust LD.s; they're often faked. But he has a photographic eye. Are you going to stay with me? As nurse in residence, or lady's companion, or social secretary, or whatever you want to call it."

"Lady's maid. If I'm to be your maid, Miss Joan, I'd rather that your staff knew it and no pretense. And dress as your maid. What sort of uniform? Traditional? Or Acapulco? Or something in between?"

"Oh, not traditional, surely; you have such pretty legs. All-out Acapulco, if you like."

Winnie looked pleased. "I might go all out. A girl gets tired of these white coveralls." (Joan! Tell her not to use an all-out Acapulco paint job. Bad for her skin.) "Suit yourself, dear. But don't use a lot of paint. Bad for your skin."

"Oh, I know! I'm a real redhead, you probably noticed. I can't even sunbathe. I was thinking of a little black frill skirt with a white lace ap.r.o.n about the size of a saucer. Little perky maid's cap, white on a black ribbon. Cling-On cups, in black. Transparent? Or opaque?"

"Whichever suits you, Winnie. High heels?"

"Uh, translucent, I guess, like the panels in that nightie. High heels, certainly, or the effect is lost-I can wear real stilts if I'm barefooted most of the time. Then just enough paint for accent. There are lovely decals that go on in no time and come right off with cold cream. b.u.t.terflies and flowers and things. Cheap, too. Everything I mentioned I can buy in disposables. I'll look like a proper lady's maid, yet not spend more time getting dressed than I do in pulling on this smock and tights."

"You'll look cute, dear. Going to dress up in a maid's outfit and model it for your friend?"

Winnie started to blush again, then grinned. "I certainly am! And let him take it off me, too!" (Cheers!) (Eunice, you have a one-track mind.) (You should know, dearie-it's your your mind.) mind.)

A few moments later Winnie announced Mr. Salomon, then left. The lawyer came toward Joan solemnly, took the hand she extended and bowed over it. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Disappointed," Joan answered soberly. "Because my oldest and dearest friend hasn't time to dine with me my first day up. But physically I feel fine. Weak, but that's to be expected."

"Sure you're not overdoing?"

"I'm sure. My respiration and heartbeat are being telemetered-if I weren't all right, someone would come in and order me to bed. Truly, I'm all right, Jake-and I won't get strong unless I do do stay out of bed. But how about stay out of bed. But how about you you, old friend? I have been terribly worried."

"Oh, I'm all right. Just made a fool of myself, Johann."

"You did not make a fool of yourself . . . and I feel certain Eunice knows it, Jake." (Watch it, Boss!) (Pipe down.) "You could have paid her no finer tribute than those honest tears." Joan found her own tears starting; she encouraged them while ignoring them. "She was a sweet and gallant lady, Jake, and it touched me more than I can say to learn that you appreciated her wonderful qualities as much as I did. Jake-please sit down, if only for a moment. There is something I must must ask you." ask you."

"Well . . . all right. Can't stay long."

"Whistle that chair closer, and face me. Uh, a gla.s.s of sherry? Doctor says I may have it-and I find that I need it. That Spanish c.o.c.ktail sherry, dry as your wit. Will you do me the honor of pouring for us?"

Joan waited until the lawyer had filled their gla.s.ses, and had seated himself. She raised her gla.s.s and at the same time raised her chest, letting those "wicked" panels do their best. "A toast, Jake-no, don't get up. The same toast, Jake-always the same toast from now on whenever you and I drink together . . . but silently." She took a sip and put her gla.s.s down. "Jake-"

"Yes . . . Johann?"

" 'Joan,' please-I can't be 'Johann' any longer. Jake, you know that I never expected to live through any such operation? It was a-device. A legal device."

"Yes, Joha-Yes, Joan, I knew. That's why I helped."

"I knew. The most generous act of friendship I have ever known. What is it the j.a.panese name it?-the friend who helps, when it is necessary to die. Never mind. Jake, look me in the eye. Do you know, deep in your heart, that I would rather be dead . . . than to have lived through it by this incredible circ.u.mstance? Be alive . . . at her her expense? Do you expense? Do you know know that, Jake? Or must I live still another life, hating myself?" that, Jake? Or must I live still another life, hating myself?"

Salomon raised his eyes, met hers firmly. "Yes-Joan. I know it. It was no fault of yours . . . you must not hate yourself. Uh . . . Eunice wouldn't want you to! Eunice wouldn't want you to!"

"I know! Weep, dear Jake; don't hold back your tears-see, I am not holding back mine. Just try not to go to pieces, or I will, too. Jake, each of us would happily have died rather than let this happen. I am as certain of it about you as I hope you are about me. I don't think I could stand it if you had not rea.s.sured me. Look at me-a lovely body and young-yet I am almost ninety-five years old and have not one friend left alive . . . but you."

"You'll make more friends."

"I wonder if I can. The span is great, perhaps too great. I feel as the Wandering Jew must have felt, alive beyond his allotted time. His name-Aha-something. My memory is not as good as this young body. But I can't forget one question which I must must ask. Jake, is there any possibility that Eunice's husband had something to do with her death? That prize I put up, that blood money- ask. Jake, is there any possibility that Eunice's husband had something to do with her death? That prize I put up, that blood money-did it tempt him?"

(Boss, Boss, you're way off base. I know!) (Sorry, beloved, more sorry than I can say. But I must have proof proof.) "Jake? Did I entice a murder? Did I entice a murder?"

The lawyer shook his head. "I'm astounded. But of course you don't know the circ.u.mstances. You enticed nothing nothing. I wrote that offer most carefully. Were there any guilt I would share it. There was none."

"How do you know? know?" (Drop it, Boss. Please!) "Mr. Branca was in Philadelphia, visiting his mother." (You see, Boss?) "I had to find him to get the post-death ratification. Took three days, while both of you were kept ready for surgery. Joe Branca didn't know she was dead. h.e.l.l of a job even to find him. Three long days."

" 'Three days.' Why wasn't I told!"

"And waste waste Eunice's death? Are you crazy? You were unconscious; Garcia put you under as soon as I notified him that a body was going to be ready. Then that dreadful wait. I need Eunice's death? Are you crazy? You were unconscious; Garcia put you under as soon as I notified him that a body was going to be ready. Then that dreadful wait. I need your your forgiveness, too, for-Joan-no, 'Johann!' I hated you . . . for being alive when forgiveness, too, for-Joan-no, 'Johann!' I hated you . . . for being alive when she she was dead. But I pushed on-for was dead. But I pushed on-for her her sake. Oh, I got over it, it was a sick hate. I knew better." sake. Oh, I got over it, it was a sick hate. I knew better."

"Do you hate me now?"

"Eh?" Salomon looked at her, in sorrow. "No. You are not only my old friend, who has always been honest and decent under his crusty exterior-whose virtues outweighed his faults." Salomon managed to smile. "Though sometimes just barely. But also you are the only tie I have left to her."

"Yes. You may find me better-tempered now, Jake. It's easier to smile, easier to be patient, then it was in that old wreck of a body I had. But, Jake, about Joe Branca. All right, he was in Philadelphia. But could he have arranged arranged it?" it?"

"No."

"You're certain?"

"Certain. Joha-Joan, it's that million dollars that worries you, fear that it might have started a chain of events. When they located Joe Branca, I had to jet there and get that piece of paper. He was dazed. Couldn't believe it. But accepted the fact. But not not the money. I couldn't get him to sign the post-death authorization without first preparing another doc.u.ment, waiving the money. The escrow trustee-Chase Manhattan-was instructed by Joe to pay it to the Rare Blood Club-his idea-as a memorial to Eunice Evans Branca." (Oh, Boss! I'm crying.) (We all are.) (But, Boss-Joe must be starving.) (We'll take care of it.) the money. I couldn't get him to sign the post-death authorization without first preparing another doc.u.ment, waiving the money. The escrow trustee-Chase Manhattan-was instructed by Joe to pay it to the Rare Blood Club-his idea-as a memorial to Eunice Evans Branca." (Oh, Boss! I'm crying.) (We all are.) (But, Boss-Joe must be starving.) (We'll take care of it.) She sighed. "I'll be d.a.m.ned."

"Perhaps. And perhaps myself. But I don't think Joe Branca will be. He's an unworldly man-Joan. From a slum family. A flower in the muck. I couldn't even get him to accept a lesser sum. He insisted on paying for witnessing and notarizing his mark, and the tax stamp on the a.s.signment-and it took almost every dime he could dig up. He just shook his head and said, 'Broke don't scare me.' "

"Jake, we must take care of him."

"I don't think you can, Joan, In his own odd way he is as proud as she was. But I did one thing. In searching for him I had to get a court order to open their studio -indispensable it turned out, as an old letter from his mother gave us the clue that located him. But I learned that the rent was almost due . . . the corporation's rent agent wanted to know how soon the lease was going to lapse-he a.s.sumed that, with her her dead, the rent would not be paid. So I covered the matter for the moment; then when I got back, I bought the lease. As long as Joe chooses to stay, he won't be asked for rent. Then I checked around and located her bank account and arranged with a friendly judge to let me guarantee the matter and had it a.s.signed to Joe without bothering him with legal formalities. The little dear was smart about money-a nice sum, enough to keep him eating a couple of years, I think." (All gone in a couple of months, dead, the rent would not be paid. So I covered the matter for the moment; then when I got back, I bought the lease. As long as Joe chooses to stay, he won't be asked for rent. Then I checked around and located her bank account and arranged with a friendly judge to let me guarantee the matter and had it a.s.signed to Joe without bothering him with legal formalities. The little dear was smart about money-a nice sum, enough to keep him eating a couple of years, I think." (All gone in a couple of months, I I think. Boss, Joe doesn't understand money. A bank account isn't real, to him.) (Don't worry, darling. Jake and I will handle it.) think. Boss, Joe doesn't understand money. A bank account isn't real, to him.) (Don't worry, darling. Jake and I will handle it.) She sighed. "I feel rea.s.sured, Jake. But distressed about her husband. We must look into it. If he's that unworldly, then there must be some way to subsidize him without his knowing it."

"All right, Joan, we will try. But Joe Branca taught me-at my age!-that there are things money cannot buy. Not if the prospective seller is indifferent to money."

"Will you have more sherry? And may I have another drop? If you can't stay, I think I'll ask to be put to bed and right to sleep. Skip dinner."

"Oh, but you must eat, Joan. For your strength. Look, if I stay, will you eat?"

She gave him Eunice's best sun-coming-up smile. "Yes! Yes, Jake dear! Thank you."

Dinner was informal, service only by Cunningham and two a.s.sistants. Joan did her best to simulate a charming, gracious hostess-while trying not to appear greedy; everything tasted so wonderful! wonderful! But she waited until coffee had been served and Jake had refused a perfecto and accepted a gla.s.s of port, and she then could say, "Thank you, Cunningham, that will be all," before returning to personal matters. But she waited until coffee had been served and Jake had refused a perfecto and accepted a gla.s.s of port, and she then could say, "Thank you, Cunningham, that will be all," before returning to personal matters.

Once they were alone she said, "Jake, when will I be up for a competency hearing?"

"Eh? Any time you feel well enough. Are you in a hurry?"

"No. I would be utterly content to be your ward the rest of my life."

Her lawyer smiled slightly. "Joan, by the actuarial tables you now have a life expectancy of about sixty years; mine is more like ten or twelve."

"Well . . . that's hard to answer. But will you go on as before as my de-facto manager? Or am I asking too much?"

Salomon studied his gla.s.s. "Joan . . . once the court dissolves this guardian-and-ward relationship, there is no reason why you should not manage your affairs."

(Joan! Change the subject; he's trying to leave us!) (So I know! Keep quiet!) (Tell him your middle name!) "Jake. Jake dear . . . look at me. Look hard and keep on looking. That's better. Jake-is it that you would rather not not see me . . . as I am now? see me . . . as I am now?

The lawyer said nothing. She went on, "Isn't it better to get used to what is is . . . than to run away from it? Wouldn't she-Eunice-want you to stay?" (Keep slugging, Sis-he . . . than to run away from it? Wouldn't she-Eunice-want you to stay?" (Keep slugging, Sis-he wants wants to stay.) to stay.) "It isn't that simple . . . Joan."

"Nothing ever is. But I don't think you can can run away from it any more than I can-for I won't stop run away from it any more than I can-for I won't stop being being what I am-her body, my mind-and you will always know it. All you accomplish by leaving is to deprive me of my one friend and the only man on earth I trust utterly. What does it take to change my name?" what I am-her body, my mind-and you will always know it. All you accomplish by leaving is to deprive me of my one friend and the only man on earth I trust utterly. What does it take to change my name?"

"Eh?"

"Just what I said. I changed my surname from 'Schmidt' to 'Smith' when I enlisted on December eighth nineteenforty-one simply by spelling it that way to a recruiting sergeant. No one has bothered me about it since. This time perhaps it must be formal, considering the thousands of places where my signature appears. It is technically a s.e.x-change case, is it not? A court takes judicial notice, or some such, and it's made a matter of record?"

Salomon slipped into his professional persona persona and relaxed. "Yes, of course; I had not thought about and relaxed. "Yes, of course; I had not thought about that that aspect-too many other details on my mind. Joan, your earlier name change was legal-although informal-because any person is free to call himself by any name, without permission of a court, as long as there is no criminal intent-to defraud, deceive, evade responsibility, avoid taxes, whatever. You can call yourself 'Joan'-or 'Johann'-or 'Miniver Cheevy'-and that is your name, as long as your purpose is innocent. And p.r.o.nounce it as you like. Knew of a case once of a man who spelled his name 'Zaustinski' and p.r.o.nounced it 'Jones' and went to the trouble of publishing the odd p.r.o.nunciation as a legal notice-although he did not have to; a name may be p.r.o.nounced in any fashion its owner chooses." aspect-too many other details on my mind. Joan, your earlier name change was legal-although informal-because any person is free to call himself by any name, without permission of a court, as long as there is no criminal intent-to defraud, deceive, evade responsibility, avoid taxes, whatever. You can call yourself 'Joan'-or 'Johann'-or 'Miniver Cheevy'-and that is your name, as long as your purpose is innocent. And p.r.o.nounce it as you like. Knew of a case once of a man who spelled his name 'Zaustinski' and p.r.o.nounced it 'Jones' and went to the trouble of publishing the odd p.r.o.nunciation as a legal notice-although he did not have to; a name may be p.r.o.nounced in any fashion its owner chooses."

"Why did he do it, Jake?"

"His grandmother's will required him to change his name in order to inherit-but did not specify how he must p.r.o.nounce it. Joan, in your case a formal change of name is advisable, but it might be best to wait until you are no longer my ward. But de facto your new name is already what you say it is."

"Then my name is now-'Joan Eunice Smith.' "

Salomon knocked over his gla.s.s of port. He made quite a busyness of mopping it up. Joan said, "Jake, let it be, no importance. I did not mean to shock you. But don't you see the necessity? It's a tribute to her her, a public acknowledgment of my debt to her. Since I can never pay it, I want to publish it, place it on the wall for all to see, like a Chinese man's debt to his tong. Besides that, ninety-five percent of me is is Eunice . . . and only five percent is old Johann now named 'Joan' and even that fraction no one can see, only surgeons have seen it. Last but by no means least-Jake dear, look at me-if you ever forget that fraction and call me 'Eunice,' it won't matter; it's my name. And if you Eunice . . . and only five percent is old Johann now named 'Joan' and even that fraction no one can see, only surgeons have seen it. Last but by no means least-Jake dear, look at me-if you ever forget that fraction and call me 'Eunice,' it won't matter; it's my name. And if you intentionally intentionally call me 'Eunice,' it call me 'Eunice,' it will will matter, for I shall be pleased and flattered. And any time it suits you to call me 'Joan Eunice,' it will make me happy, as I will be matter, for I shall be pleased and flattered. And any time it suits you to call me 'Joan Eunice,' it will make me happy, as I will be certain certain you have done it intentionally-and accepted me as I am." you have done it intentionally-and accepted me as I am."

"Very well . . . Joan Eunice."

She smiled. "Thank you, Jake. I feel happier than I have felt since I first knew. I hope you do."

"Um. Yes. I think so. It's a good change-Joan Eunice."

"Did you get wine on your clothes? If so, let Cunningham see to it. Jake, is there any reason for you to go clear out to Safe Harbor tonight? I'm sure Cunningham can find you clean socks or whatever."

"Goodness, Joan-Joan Eunice-I've been here two nights already."

"Do you think three will wear out your welcome? You can't wear it out."

"And the drive isn't that far, as I placed my house for sale with the enclave trustees months ago. I have rooms at the Gibraltar Club now. Good service, central location, none of the fiddlin' worries of a householder."

"I see your point. Hmm, must remember to resign from the Gib myself." She smiled. "They'll never let me past the ladies' lounge-now."

The lawyer said dryly, "I took the liberty of withdrawing you from membership shortly after I became your guardian-Joan Eunice."

She laughed in delight. "And me a founding member! This is delicious-souls and honks and thirds all welcome. . . . but females are second-cla.s.s citizens. Jake dear, I'm going to have to get used to a lot of things."

"I suppose so-Joan Eunice."

"So I'll need you more than ever. Where have you been sleeping?"

"The Brown Room."

"Cunningham must be slipping. He should have put you in the Green Suite."

"Well . . . the Green Suite has been used for hospital equipment and supplies. I authorized it."

"Then you can just unauthorize it, as that is your your suite. They can store that stuff somewhere else. Or remove it, as little of it will be needed from now on." suite. They can store that stuff somewhere else. Or remove it, as little of it will be needed from now on."