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She
sat
upon
the
low
wall
and
looked
down
upon
the
sea
.
But
from
another
sea
,
the
wide
swell
of
fantasy
,
she
had
fished
out
something
tangible
to
lay
beside
the
rest
of
her
loot
.
If
she
need
not
,
in
her
spirit
,
be
forever
one
with
Dick
as
he
had
appeared
last
night
,
she
must
be
something
in
addition
,
not
just
an
image
on
his
mind
,
condemned
to
endless
parades
around
the
circumference
of
a
medal
.
Nicole
had
chosen
this
part
of
the
wall
on
which
to
sit
,
because
the
cliff
shaded
to
a
slanting
meadow
with
a
cultivated
vegetable
garden
.
Through
a
cluster
of
boughs
she
saw
two
men
carrying
rakes
and
spades
and
talking
in
a
counterpoint
of
Niçoise
and
Provençal
.
Attracted
by
their
words
and
gestures
she
caught
the
sense
:
"
I
laid
her
down
here
.
"
"
I
took
her
behind
the
vines
there
.
"
"
She
doesn
’
t
care
—
neither
does
he
.
It
was
that
sacred
dog
.
Well
,
I
laid
her
down
here
—
"
"
You
got
the
rake
?
"
"
You
got
it
yourself
,
you
clown
.
"
"
Well
,
I
don
’
t
care
where
you
laid
her
down
.
Until
that
night
I
never
even
felt
a
woman
’
s
breast
against
my
chest
since
I
married
—
twelve
years
ago
.
And
now
you
tell
me
—
"
"
But
listen
about
the
dog
—
"
