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Show 19. I hadn't seen her for five years and I could see the time on her face, thinner with a few lines at the corners of her eyes and one at the right corner of her mouth, but with those same grey eyes which looked into mine, the same smile which caught up her eyes into beauty. She was no longer a pretty girl, she had never been beautiful, but she was certainly a damned good looking woman. I hoped I looked a little older too: rosy cheeks are hard to bear. She had gone through the school at the Art Institute and now was working in the Loop as an artist. She had been separated from Mark Wells for over a year but her divorce from him was only recently final. She and Amelia had met in a night class at the University, and what amazed us was that Amelia had never connected us. I guess I hadn't talked much about my origins but there was a certain kind of curiosity she really lacked. "Well yes it's dumb. I know. I know these two people are from Colorado but how would I know you knew each other? It's so big out West. But I guess with not many people around and all, everybody knows everybody else." "Practically," said Kate, and smiled at me. Ben and I went back to their apartment, bourgeois though it was, as often as Ben could manage it. He seemed to be always in the kitchen with Amelia putting up coffee or something, and Kate and I had a lot of time to talk in the living room. I noticed that the tall, arched bridge of her nose seemed to fit her face perfectly now, and that she must have gotten a good tan the summer before because it hadn't all faded yet, a smooth, light tan as if just under the surface of her skin. And she was a real artist-I felt great having her as a friend. Of course I explained to her my theory of |