Physically she is no longer as animated and alive. She looks defenseless and slightly pathetic. She has dyed her hair reddish and she talks on and on—as if not knowing what she is saying. I feel dreadfully sorry for her. She touches the protective instinct within me. She has such fine qualities, which will never blossom in the life they have now chosen. I believe she will be a different person each time I meet her. The impossible plans for the future she is building. Her longing for friendship, while she hunts useful connections. Loneliness .. beside the swimming pool and in their big new house with hardly any furniture. No children. Previously, they wanted to be just the two of them. Now they have the Career. The American dream. Success. Her dream is to stand at her husband’s side and be one of the film city’s influential people. Belong to the A group. She puts her arm through mine at table and we chat about nothing.

I feel her need of a woman friend—feel it in the gust of the confidences breathed into my ear.

The drinks are brought in. She smiles and encourages her husband. Tells us how clever he is, how good he is, how proud she is of him.

Fear sits at table with us—and I shudder at the thought of meeting her in ten years’ time.