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"
Goodbye
,
Irwin
,
"
he
said
and
hung
up
the
phone
.
Rachel
was
deep
in
a
litter
of
clothes
when
he
came
upstairs
.
Blouses
on
the
beds
,
bras
hung
over
the
backs
of
chairs
,
slacks
on
hangers
that
had
been
hung
over
the
doorknob
.
Shoes
were
lined
up
like
soldiers
under
the
window
.
She
appeared
to
be
packing
slowly
but
competently
.
Louis
could
see
it
was
going
to
take
her
at
least
three
suitcases
(
maybe
four
)
,
but
he
could
also
see
no
sense
in
arguing
with
her
about
it
.
Instead
he
pitched
in
and
helped
.
"
Louis
,
"
she
said
as
they
closed
the
last
suitcase
(
he
had
to
sit
on
it
before
Rachel
could
snap
the
catches
)
,
"
are
you
sure
there
's
nothing
you
want
to
tell
me
?
"
"
For
God
's
sake
,
hon
,
what
is
this
?
"
"
I
do
n't
know
what
it
is
,
"
she
replied
evenly
.
"
That
's
why
I
'm
asking
.
"
"
What
do
you
think
I
'm
going
to
do
?
Creep
off
to
a
bordello
?
Join
the
circus
?
What
?
"
"
I
do
n't
know
.
But
this
feels
wrong
.
It
feels
as
if
you
're
trying
to
get
rid
of
us
.
"
"
Rachel
,
that
's
ridiculous
!
"
He
said
this
with
a
vehemence
that
was
partly
exasperation
.
Even
in
such
straits
as
these
,
he
felt
a
certain
pique
in
being
seen
through
so
easily
.
She
smiled
wanly
.
"
You
never
were
a
very
good
liar
,
Lou
.
"
