ng to perfect legs. Her blouses were tight.
She was averagely good looking. Her face was open and energetic; her
hair was chestnut tending to blonde, shoulder length and wavy. Men
found themselves looking at her, talking to her, and then--the more
they looked, the more they saw. She was faster than they were; she
adjusted effortlessly in flight, becoming more serious or more
carefree, more cerebral or more passionate under their gaze.

"Men are SO stupid," Willow said.

"Don't you think they're cute sometimes? Even AhnRee with his tan and
those big white towels he wraps around his belly at the pool. He's
old--God, do you think he's fifty?--but he has those big round dark
eyes." AhnRee had picked up Amber the second day they were in town.

"When I see someone so special, I know! I must paint you. My name is
AhnRee," he had said with great dignity.

"AhnRee?" Willow asked.

"As in Matisse," he said. "It is an honor, such a name. A curse . . .
But never mind." He smiled gallantly. Gigi, Willow said to herself. No
one should copy Maurice Chevalier. They get the eyes and the teeth, but
they don't have the engine. No fire engine inside the doors.

"No fire engine," she said to Amber. "Huh?" AhnRee had said something
to Amber and Amber was asking why they shouldn't try living in his
studio.

"You will find it most private," AhnRee said. "It is some distance from
the main house. In return, a bit of modeling, say, once a week? Say you
will," he pleaded.

"Only if it is all right with Willow," Amber said, kicking Willow in
the ankle.

"Ah, Willow," AhnRee said, wrenching his eyes from Amber who was
becoming ever more elusive, more of a muse.

"Where is this place?" Willow asked.

"A short drive up the mountain. An easy ride on a bicycle. In fact, I
have several bicycles--if you don't mind the old fashioned kind with
baskets on the handlebars."

"And what do I have to do?" Amber kicked her again.

AhnRee considered. "You may mow the lawn around the studio. And, if you
wish, attend a little to the flowers."

Willow had given in, and it had been fine. AhnRee had left them alone.
And Amber seemed to enjoy modeling. "It's not so bad, being admired,"
she told Willow.

"Well," Willow said, coming back to the present, "you knocked Patrick
out with that bit about foggy mornings on the Galapagos Islands."

"Can I help it if my father is a Darwin freak? He practically made me
go with him."

"Christ," Willow said.

"