"I'm sorry, Eugenie. It's the 24th. There's a new Bergman movie coming to the Roxy, and I thought maybe we could go there."

"Ooooooo, fantastic. I just love her. Did you see The Inn of the Sixth Happiness? Wasn't it marvelous? I cried and cried and ..."

"Not that Bergman, Eugenie. Ingmar Bergman, the director. The name of the movie is The Magician, and it's a very fine show. It's very metaphysical and allegorical, and it has excellent photography."

"Sounds drippy. Let's go to Annie's party instead.

Everyone's going to be there."

"Oh, all right. I'll pick you up at eight."

* * *

The party was rather frightening, Wellington thought. But Eugenie most definitely was not. Wellington tried hard not to stare at her well-filled sweater, and essayed to remain calm as she rested her head on his shoulder. Her casual chatter still lacked something:

"Reading Period? What's that?" she asked.

"They give people in upperclass courses two weeks to catch up before exams-there aren't any classes or sections."

"I don't think that's fair at all. We have our exams, too, but nobody gives us a two-week vacation to study for them."

Still, when they danced, it was a delight to hold Eugenie, and later, she gave him a devastating good-night kiss. As Wellington watched the shapely form disappear behind the closing door, he reflected on the vagaries of life. "I suppose one must learn to compromise," he mused. As he stood there thinking, his hands unconsciously made the sign of an hour-glass. Wellington started at the airy figure he had drawn, shrugged his shoulders, and went home.