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“
Just
send
in
an
entry
fee
,
”
Nobile
said
.
“
It
’
s
like
any
other
tournament
,
except
the
competition
’
s
stiffer
.
”
*
*
*
She
sent
in
her
entry
fee
,
but
she
did
not
play
in
the
U
.
S
.
Open
that
year
.
Mrs
.
Wheatley
developed
a
virus
that
kept
her
in
bed
for
two
weeks
,
and
Beth
,
who
had
just
passed
her
fifteenth
birthday
,
was
unwilling
to
go
alone
.
She
did
her
best
to
hide
it
,
but
she
was
furious
at
Alma
Wheatley
for
being
sick
,
and
at
herself
for
being
afraid
to
make
the
trip
to
Los
Angeles
.
The
Open
was
not
as
important
as
the
U
.
S
.
Championship
,
but
it
was
time
she
started
playing
in
something
other
than
events
chosen
solely
on
the
basis
of
the
prize
money
.
There
was
a
tight
little
world
of
tournaments
like
the
United
States
Championship
and
the
Merriwether
Invitational
that
she
knew
of
through
overheard
conversations
and
from
articles
in
Chess
Review
;
it
was
time
she
got
into
it
,
and
then
into
international
chess
Sometimes
she
would
visualize
herself
as
what
she
wanted
to
become
;
a
truly
professional
woman
and
the
finest
chessplayer
in
the
world
,
traveling
confidently
by
herself
in
the
first
-
class
cabins
of
airplanes
,
tall
,
perfectly
dressed
,
good
-
looking
and
poised
—
a
kind
of
white
Jolene
.
She
often
told
herself
that
she
would
send
Jolene
a
card
or
a
letter
,
but
she
never
did
.
Instead
she
would
study
herself
in
the
bathroom
mirror
,
looking
for
signs
of
that
poised
and
beautiful
woman
she
wanted
to
become
.
At
sixteen
she
had
grown
taller
and
better
-
looking
,
had
learned
to
have
her
hair
cut
in
a
way
that
showed
her
eyes
to
some
advantage
,
but
she
still
looked
like
a
schoolgirl
.
She
played
tournaments
about
every
six
weeks
now
—
in
states
like
Illinois
and
Tennessee
,
and
sometimes
in
New
York
.
They
still
chose
ones
that
would
pay
enough
to
show
a
profit
after
the
expenses
for
the
two
of
them
.
Her
bank
account
grew
,
and
that
was
a
considerable
pleasure
,
but
somehow
her
career
seemed
to
be
on
a
plateau
.
And
she
was
too
old
to
be
called
a
prodigy
anymore
.
Although
the
U
.
S
.
Open
was
being
held
in
Las
Vegas
,
the
other
people
at
the
Mariposa
Hotel
seemed
oblivious
to
it
.
In
the
main
room
the
players
at
the
craps
tables
,
at
roulette
and
at
the
blackjack
tables
wore
brightly
colored
double
-
knits
and
shirts
;
they
went
about
their
business
in
silence
.
On
the
other
side
of
the
casino
was
the
hotel
coffee
shop
.
The
day
before
the
tournament
Beth
walked
down
an
aisle
between
crapshooters
where
the
main
sound
was
the
tapping
of
clay
chips
and
of
dice
on
felt
.
In
the
coffee
shop
she
slid
onto
a
stool
at
the
counter
,
turned
around
to
look
at
the
mostly
empty
booths
and
saw
a
handsome
young
man
sitting
hunched
over
a
cup
of
coffee
,
alone
.
It
was
Townes
,
from
Lexington
.
She
stood
up
and
went
over
to
the
booth
.
“
Hello
,
”
she
said
.
He
looked
up
and
blinked
,
not
recognizing
her
at
first
.
Then
he
said
,
“
Harmon
!
For
Christ
’
s
sake
!
”
“
Can
I
sit
down
?
”
“
Sure
,
”
he
said
.
“
I
should
have
known
you
.
You
were
on
the
list
.
”
