his legs stretched out as far as they would reach, and observed the
facial contortions of his driver-patient.

Fairfield's lips would twitch as he twisted the wheel and shot into the
left lane. His foot pressed down on the gas and the right corner of his
lip pulled back in sneering response, the sudden surge of the Buick
seemed intimately linked to one muscular act no more than to the other.
His eyebrows pressed intensely together, caressing one another, as the
big car whipped back into line. A sharp outlet of breath between tightly
clenched teeth preceded the sharper blast of the horn and then the Buick
was swerving out to the left again with the accompanying lip twitch. A
car they were about to pass pulled out in front of them, initiating a
spasmodic clutching of the wheel by the left hand, a furious pounding on
the horn by the right, and a synchronized twitch, sneer, and muttered
"goddam it" from the lips, repeated twice while the eyebrows maintained
their position of togetherness.

Dr. Quink closed his eyes finally. There was nothing more to be gained
at the moment from observation. The patient's responses while driving
were normal.

* * * * *

Mrs. Fairfield greeted them at the door with a martini pitcher in one
hand and a modernistically designed apron around her waist. She uttered
little squeals about them being early and ushered them into the living
room where she settled Dr. Quink on one end of an eight-foot powder blue
divan before she left the room with the martini pitcher still clutched
tightly in the one hand, the other rapidly undoing the apron of
modernistic design. Donald Fairfield had not said one word since the
front door had opened in response to their ring; none had seemed to have
been necessary nor, in fact, possible, under the deluge of Mrs.
Fairfield's effusive greeting. Now he sat in the tilted green armchair
in one corner of the room and, closing his eyes, relaxed from the strain
of the drive.

"Your wife is very pretty," Dr. Quink said.

"Yes, she's probably the most beautiful woman I know," Fairfield said.
"That's probably why I took her along. There's something about a
beautiful woman.... It was certainly a mistake."

"Feminine beauty is enjoyable even though you don't indulge in sex?"

"Of course, it is," he replied, with a gesture of annoyance. "You're
still bound by that Freed--Freud, is it?--of yours. Damn him. That's
really the main reason I hesita