of stairs you could have just about flown up when you were twenty-but being lonely."
"Yes," Ralph said. "That is the worst."
"No one talks to you anymore-oh, they talk at you, sometimes, but that's not the same-and mostly it's like people don't even see you.
Have you ever felt that way?"
Ralph thought of the Derry of the Old Crocks, a city mostly ignored by the hurry-to-work, hurry-to-play world which surrounded it, and nodded.
"Ralph, would you hug me?"
"My pleasure," he said, and pulled her gently into the circle of his arms.
Some time later, rumpled and dazed but happy, Ralph and Lois sat together on the living-room couch, a piece of furniture so stringently hobbit-sized it was really not much more than a love-seat. Neither of them minded. Ralph's arm was around Lois's shoulders. She had let her hair down and he twined a lock of it in his fingers, musing upon how easy it was to forget the feel of a woman's hair, so marvelously different from the feel of a man's. She had told him about her card-game and Ralph had listened closely, amazed but not, he discovered, much surprised.
There were a dozen or so of them who played every week or so at the
Ludlow Grange for small stakes. It was possible to go home a five-buck loser or a ten-buck winner, but the most likely result was finishing a dollar ahead or a handful of change behind. Although there were a couple of good players and a couple of shlumps (Lois counted herself among the former), it was mostly just a fun way to spend an afternoon-the Lady Old Crock version of chess tournaments and marathon gin-rummy games.
"Only this afternoon I just couldn't lose. I should have come home completely broke, what with all of them asking what kind of vitamins I was taking and where I'd gotten my last facial and all the rest of it. Who can concentrate on a silly game like Deuces and jacks, Man with the Axe, Natural Sevens Take All when you have to keep telling new lies and trying not to trip over the ones you've already told?"
"Must have been hard, Ralph said, trying not to grin.
"It was. Very hard! But instead of losing, I just kept raking it in.
And do you know why, Ralph?"
He did, but shook his head so she would tell him. He liked listening to her.
"It was their auras. I didn't always know the exact cards they were holding, but a lot of times I did. Even when I didn't, I could get a pretty clear idea of how good their hands were. The auras weren't always there, you know how they come and go, but even when they were gone I played better than I ever have in my life. During the last hour, I began to lose on purpose just so they wouldn't all hate me.
And do you know something? Even losing on purpose was hard."
She looked down at her hands, which had begun to twine together nervously in her lap. "And on the way back, I did something I'm ashamed of."
Ralph began to glimpse her aura again, a dim gray ghost in which unformed blobs of dark blue swirled. "Before you tell me," he said, "listen to this and see if it sounds familiar."
He related how Mrs. Perrine had approached while he was sitting on the porch, eating and waiting for Lois to get back. As he told her what he had done to the old lady, he dropped his eyes and felt his ears heating up again.
"Yes," she said when he was finished. "It's the same thing I did... but I didn't mean to, Ralph... at least, I don't think I meant 1111 to. I was sitting in the back seat with M-na, and she was starting to go on and on again about how different I looked, how young I looked, and I thought-I'm embarrassed to say it right out loud, but I guess I better-I thought, shut you up, you snoopy, envious old thing."
Because it was envy, Ralph. I could see it in her aura. Big, jagged spikes the exact color of a cat's eyes. No wonder they call jealousy the green-eyed monster! Anyway, I pointed out the window and said 'Oooh, Mina, isn't that the dearest little house?" And when she turned to look, I... I did what you did, Ralph. Only I didn't curl up my hand. I just kind of puckered my lips... like this She demonstrated, looking so kissable that