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They
continued
as
lovers
and
did
not
play
any
more
games
,
except
from
the
books
.
He
went
out
a
few
days
later
for
another
poker
game
and
came
back
with
two
hundred
in
winnings
and
they
had
one
of
their
best
times
in
bed
together
,
with
the
money
beside
them
on
the
night
table
.
She
was
fond
of
him
,
but
that
was
all
.
And
by
the
last
week
before
Paris
,
she
was
beginning
to
feel
that
he
had
little
left
to
teach
her
.
Mrs
.
Wheatley
had
always
carried
Beth
’
s
adoption
papers
and
birth
certificate
with
her
when
they
traveled
,
and
Beth
had
continued
the
practice
,
though
up
to
now
they
had
never
been
needed
.
During
her
first
week
in
New
York
,
Benny
took
her
to
Rockefeller
Center
,
and
she
used
them
in
applying
for
her
passport
.
Mexico
had
required
only
a
tourist
card
,
and
Mrs
.
Wheatley
had
taken
care
of
that
.
The
little
booklet
with
the
green
cover
and
her
tight
-
lipped
picture
inside
came
two
weeks
later
.
Even
though
she
wasn
’
t
sure
of
going
,
she
had
sent
the
Paris
acceptance
in
a
few
days
before
leaving
Kentucky
for
Ohio
.
When
the
time
came
,
Benny
drove
her
to
Kennedy
Airport
and
dropped
her
off
at
the
Air
France
terminal
.
“
He
’
s
not
impossible
,
”
Benny
said
.
“
You
can
beat
him
.
”
“
We
’
ll
see
,
”
she
said
.
“
Thanks
for
the
help
.
”
She
had
gotten
her
suitcase
out
of
the
car
and
was
standing
by
the
driver
’
s
window
.
They
were
in
a
no
-
parking
zone
,
and
he
could
not
leave
the
car
to
see
her
off
.
“
See
you
next
week
,
”
Benny
said
.
For
a
moment
she
wanted
to
lean
in
the
open
window
and
kiss
him
,
but
she
restrained
herself
.
“
See
you
then
.
”
She
picked
up
her
suitcase
and
went
into
the
terminal
.
*
*
*
This
time
she
was
expecting
to
feel
the
dark
hostility
that
even
seeing
him
across
a
room
could
make
her
feel
,
but
being
prepared
for
it
did
not
stop
her
from
a
sharp
intake
of
breath
.
He
was
standing
with
his
back
to
her
,
talking
to
reporters
.
She
looked
away
nervously
,
as
she
had
looked
away
the
first
time
at
the
zoo
in
Mexico
City
.
He
was
just
another
man
in
a
dark
suit
,
another
Russian
who
played
chess
,
she
told
herself
.
One
of
the
men
was
taking
his
picture
while
the
other
was
talking
to
him
.
Beth
watched
the
three
of
them
for
a
while
,
and
her
tension
eased
.
She
could
beat
him
.
She
turned
and
went
to
the
desk
to
register
.
Play
would
start
in
twenty
minutes
.
It
was
the
smallest
tournament
she
had
ever
seen
,
in
this
elegant
old
building
near
the
École
Militaire
.
There
were
six
players
and
five
rounds
—
one
round
a
day
for
five
days
.
If
she
or
Borgov
lost
an
early
round
,
they
would
not
play
each
other
,
and
the
competition
was
strong
.
Yet
,
strong
as
it
was
,
she
did
not
feel
either
of
them
would
be
beaten
by
anyone
else
.
She
walked
through
the
doorway
into
the
tournament
room
proper
,
feeling
no
anxiety
about
the
game
she
would
be
playing
this
morning
or
about
the
ones
over
the
next
few
days
.
She
would
not
play
Borgov
until
one
of
the
final
rounds
.
She
would
meet
a
Dutch
grandmaster
in
ten
minutes
and
play
Black
against
him
,
but
she
felt
no
apprehension
.
