I silently hoped he wouldn't draw
blood.

Helen sank into a chair and raised her skirt to reveal her right leg.
"Did George tell you about my legs?" she inquired. She stroked the leg
affectionately. "Arthritis. George grafted a new one on for me. Feels
ten times better."

My face blanched. The idea of replacing body parts from Banks didn't
nauseate me. If a man is in an automobile accident and loses an arm, and
that arm can be replaced, I think that's marvelous. What sickened me
were the people who actually _enjoyed_ having a part of their body
replaced with a part from a criminal or corpse.

"No." I sat down. My knees were weak. I felt short of breath. "George
didn't tell me. I--"

She interrupted with details of the operation. The details and list of
her other ailments lasted half an hour, during which George drank
steadily and I waited for a lull so I could glance at my watch and say
something about being late for an appointment.

I saw George several times during the next few weeks. Never at his
house. I didn't visit him on my own initiative because Helen, as I had
seen during my last visit, had passed from the stage of being unpleasant
and reached the stage of being unbearable. I didn't want to be around
her or listen to her, and George must have realized my feelings because
he didn't invite me to his house for some time.

But both of us had a habit of stopping at a club on the outskirts of
town and we met there often. Each time we met, George complained. Each
time, he seemed to drink more and complain more.

I worried about his job. He was a surgeon--one of the best--and a
surgeon needs good nerves and steady hands when he performs delicate
operations.

I urged him to get a divorce, but he said he didn't want one. "I love
Helen," he said one time. "Well, I don't exactly love _Helen_, but I
love her body. It's like the old saying about marrying a girl because
she's pretty is like picking a rose by looking at the stem. We're all
different, you know, and we all have different tastes. When I first saw
Helen-- Well, she's just right for me. To me, she looks as good as
Marilyn Monroe looks to the average man. I like having her around. I'd
be lost without her, but at the same time, she's changed so damned much,
she makes me sick."

And there it was. He still wanted Helen but she had changed into a
personality that he hated. Over a period of years, she had changed into
a morbid hypochondriac, an unpleasant wom