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“That has nothing to do with it.”

“I think it does, and I think you know it too. And you know what, Spencer?” She lit another cigarette and looked calmly out the window. “I don’t want to hear about it. Go have your
crise de conscience
, as the French call it, privately, without destroying our lives in the process.”

“Getting married would destroy our lives. Believe me, I know what I’m saying.” He sounded serious, but she wasn’t convinced yet.

“Infidelity per se is not an adequate reason for divorce, no matter what the law says. So if that’s what this is all about, if you happen to have gone bonkers with your friends last night, don’t burden me with your sordid stories. Just go sober up like every other normal, decent, self-respecting man, tell me a lie, buy me a nice piece of jewelry and stop whining.” Spencer turned to look at her in total amazement.

“Are you serious?”

“Not entirely. But for the most part. We’re not married yet. If you go crazy occasionally, I might make allowances for it. Once we’re married, however, I might be considerably less good-natured.”

“I’ll make a note of that.” She was an extraordinary girl, and suddenly here he was acting as though he was
still going to marry her, instead of Crystal “You certainly are open-minded.”

“That is what this is all about, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily.” He still absolutely refused to tell her about Crystal. It was none of her business. And yet she demeaned it by treating it like a one-night stand and being willing to put up with it. It made talking to her even harder. “I think it has to do with a disparity of our views about what we want out of life. In some ways, I want more than you do, and in other ways you want more than I’ll ever want. And that, my friend, does not constitute a marriage made in heaven.”

“There is no such thing.” They were back on the highway again, and she had moved closer to him.

“That’s where I don’t agree with you. I think there is.”

“I think you’re crazy.” She put a hand on his crotch as she said it, and he swerved on the road with a look approaching terror.

“Elizabeth, stop that!”

“Why? You’ve always liked it before.” She was amused by him. She was laughing at him. And she refused to take what he was saying seriously.

“Have you heard anything I’ve said to you?”

“All of it. And frankly, my love, I think it’s bullshit.” She kissed him on the neck again, and in spite of himself he felt an uncontrollable stirring. He had a mad impulse to make love to her just to convince her. But convince her of what? That it was over? Why did she refuse to believe him? What did she know that he didn’t? She was unbelievably willful and stubborn.

“It is not bullshit. I mean it.”

“Right now maybe you do. But by tomorrow you’ll be embarrassed. I’m going to spare you that embarrassment by not believing a word you’ve said. How’s that for good sportsmanship?”

He pulled off the road again to look at her, but he had to laugh at himself. Here he had been afraid she would do something desperate, and instead she was completely unmoved by his announcement and his speeches. She was totally unflappable. And the worst thing was that part of him liked that

“You’re
much
crazier than I am.”

“Thank you.” And with that, she leaned over and kissed him hard on the mouth, forcing her tongue between his lips, and at the same time slowly undoing his zipper. He was trying to pull away from her, but a part of him didn’t want to.

“Elizabeth, don’t …” But she was kissing him and fondling him all at the same time, and the impulses she created were too difficult to resist even under the awkward circumstances. He couldn’t believe what was happening, but a moment later, they were lying on the seat together, struggling frantically beneath each other’s coats, with her skirt hiked up around her waist, and her underwear pushed down around one ankle. And the steam on the windows of the car was ample testimony to their passion. It was brief and ardent and Spencer felt totally out of control, and afterward, as they sorted themselves out again, the episode depressed him. But Elizabeth was in better spirits than ever.

“That was ridiculous.” He was behaving more than ever like a madman, he chided himself. Maybe he was having a nervous breakdown.

“I thought it was very nice myself. Don’t be such a stuffed shirt.” And she proceeded to laugh at him all the way to Poughkeepsie. She kissed him fondly on the mouth when they arrived at Vassar, despite all his protestations, and promised to have a serious talk with him in New York the following weekend. And instead of relieved or guilty or sorry or miserable, all the way back to
New York, Spencer felt desperately foolish. And it was only that night, as he lay in bed thinking about Crystal again, that he realized the full measure of his problem with Elizabeth. Having gotten him to propose to her, she was now not going to take no for an answer. And all he wanted was to go to California to run off with another woman. It had shades of a comic opera, except that it was so damn serious. He was even tempted to call his father to discuss it, except that he was convinced his father would think he was crazy. And for the moment he himself wasn’t sure he wasn’t.

The next morning he thought about calling Crystal at Mrs. Castagna’s, but he couldn’t tell her anything yet. She didn’t even know he was engaged. But he suddenly felt that he owed it to her not to call until he had settled the problem with Elizabeth. And he was even more furious with himself for making love to her in the car on the way to Poughkeepsie. All he needed now, to complete the picture of utter confusion, was for Elizabeth to get pregnant. But he knew from the past that she only took chances when she knew that couldn’t happen. But even without that complication, Spencer was in the midst of an intolerable dilemma. And for the next week he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t concentrate on his work. All he could think of was Crystal, and his thus far unsuccessfully broken engagement. And from time to time he wondered if Elizabeth was right and there was no such thing as a marriage made in heaven. They had a good time after all, in bed and out, she was smart, and they got along … but Crystal was so much more than that … at least he thought she was … although in truth he had to admit, he barely knew her. And by the end of the week, he could hardly think straight. He had weighed it all so much and so often and with such care that none of it made any sense whatsoever.
It never had. All he knew was that for years now he had been haunted by the romantic visions he had of Crystal, which were in sharp contrast to the realities of the woman he was still engaged to.

He looked like hell all week, and one of his friends at the office even commented on it, trying to be playful.

“Must have been a rough weekend, Hill.” Spencer smiled, but the next day when they played squash he was so distracted, he lost both games, and afterward he looked mournful when they stopped for drinks, and he knew he had to talk to someone. George Montgomery had just recently come to the firm. He was Spencer’s age, and he had a bright future. He was the nephew of the senior partner of the firm, Brewster Vincent.

He looked up suddenly, desperate to talk to him, as the other man sensed he was deeply troubled. “What’s eating you?”

“I think I’m crazy.”

“I suspect you’re right, but who isn’t?” George smiled at him and ordered another beer for both of them. “Any special reason why you’ve just noticed?”

He didn’t know what to say to him. How could he even begin to tell him about Crystal? “I ran into an old friend in San Francisco this weekend.”

George suspected instantly, from the look on his face. “A woman?”

Spencer nodded miserably. “I haven’t seen her in years, and I thought I’d forgotten her … but suddenly … Christ, I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“You wound up in bed with her,” George suggested with a grin. Something similar had happened to him two days before he got married. “Don’t worry, it’s just cold feet. You’ll get over it.”

“And if I don’t? Then what? Besides, just for the record, I didn’t sleep with her.” He said it to preserve her
reputation more than his own, as though it mattered. George didn’t even know her.

“My sympathies then. Don’t worry, Spencer. You’ll forget her. Elizabeth is a great girl. You could do a lot worse than be related to Justice Barclay.” Was that all anyone thought of then? The importance of the connection with her father?

Spencer looked up at him, and suddenly George knew it was serious. “I told Elizabeth I wanted to break the engagement.”

George whistled as he set his glass down. “You’re right. You are crazy. What did she say?”

Spencer only shook his head. “She doesn’t want to hear it. She thinks it’s an ordinary case of cold feet and told me to stop whining.” It would have been funny, except that to Spencer, it wasn’t.

“She’s a good sport at least. Does she know about the other girl?”

Spencer shook his head unhappily. “I didn’t tell her. But I think she suspects it. She doesn’t realize how serious it is though.”

George looked firm as he looked at him. “It isn’t.”

“Yes it is. I’m in love with her … the other one, I mean.”

“It’s too late for that. Think of it. Think of the stink it will make if you break the engagement.”

“And if I don’t? I spend the rest of my life thinking about someone else?”

“No, you won’t. You’ll forget her.” He sounded sure of it, but Spencer wasn’t. “You have to.”

“Other people break engagements.” Spencer looked agitated, and to make matters worse, he hadn’t slept in days, which had depressed him even more.

“They don’t break engagements to Justice Barclay’s daughter.” George looked positive, and his attitude annoyed
Spencer. Everyone was so damn impressed by who she was, and Spencer had never been sure that was important. He had proposed to her because he liked her, because she was intelligent and full of life, and he thought they might have an interesting life, and in the end, because he had told himself that he loved her. But he had never felt this way about her. He had known that from the first. It was why he had not asked her to marry him for an entire year. And then suddenly he had decided it would be all right. But he’d been wrong, and now what? He still didn’t have the answers.

“Why is all that so important, George? What difference does it make who her father is?”

“Are you kidding? You’re not just marrying a girl, you’re marrying a life-style, a name, an important family. You don’t just walk in and out of a life like hers. They’ll make you pay for it somehow, and even if they don’t, your name will be mud from here to California.” But as he said the words, Spencer thought of his parents, and how disappointed they would be. But he couldn’t marry her just to please them.

“I can live with that, if I have to.” But could he? And what if Crystal wasn’t right for him? What if it was all juvenile infatuation? After all, he hardly knew her. “The point is, do I love Elizabeth or not? And the truth is, George, I don’t know. How could I love her if I’m head over heels in love with someone else?”

“I think you just need to put it out of your mind, and come to your senses. Come on, I’ll buy you dinner. Have a few drinks, go to bed, and don’t say anything more to her for chrissake. You’ll feel better in a few days. It’s probably just what she said. Cold feet. Everyone gets them.” But Spencer wasn’t so sure. At least he slept peacefully that night, and in the morning, he saw the announcement of his engagement in
The New York
Times
, with a very pretty photograph of Elizabeth taken in Washington at her father’s induction. It made it all seem real again, and as he walked to work, he wondered if George was right, if he just had to put Crystal out of his head. But what in God’s name was he going to tell her? That he’d made a mistake? That he didn’t love her after all? That he had to marry someone else? And what about Crystal? She needed him, or at least she needed someone. It wasn’t fair to her, and the thought of giving her up made his soul ache. But he didn’t have to tell her anything.

In San Francisco that day, Crystal saw the announcement in the papers. He hadn’t even thought about that as he struggled with his dilemma. She was eating dinner at Harry’s with the rest of the staff, when Pearl suddenly handed her the Chronicle with a look of interest. But she wasn’t as surprised as Crystal was when she saw Spencer’s face smiling up at her from the paper.

“Weren’t they here the other night? I think I waited on them.” Pearl was pensive. She was always fascinated by the socialites she read about in the papers. “Saturday, I think it was. She was kind of full of herself, but I remember he was very nice. He was crazy about you. You should have seen his face when you were singing.”

Crystal felt her hands turn to ice, and her fingers trembled as she handed back the paper. She had read enough. It said that Spencer Hill, of New York, was going to marry Justice Barclay’s daughter, Elizabeth, and both families had flown into town for Thanksgiving to celebrate and give a party for four hundred friends at the Broadway mansion. Hedda Hopper said that the party had been incredible, with caviar, champagne, and a buffet that made the one at the White House look sick, and Artie Shaw and his band had played for the young couple till the wee hours of the morning. The date of the wedding
was in June, and Miss Barclay’s gown was going to be made by Priscilla of Boston. Crystal stared into her plate in disbelief. He hadn’t said a thing to her about getting engaged. All he had told her was that he loved her. And that he would come back to California. He had lied to her. And as she remembered all that he’d said, she felt her heart ache. She had believed him.

“You ever hear of him before?” Pearl inquired, chewing her food carefully. She was getting heavier lately, but she was still a terrific dancer.

“No,” Crystal shook her head, and went to empty her plate. It was still full, but she was no longer hungry. She sang her heart out that night, trying not to think of him, but it was hopeless. He was all she could think of, and two days later, when he called her, she almost didn’t take the call, but Mrs. Castagna had insisted. “It’s
long-distance!”
She had shouted, impressed, and Crystal’s hands had been shaking when she finally took the receiver.