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-each other, she did know that Jack seemed to want it that way. Her
-eyes had still the same inviting fullness, and I guess her hands were
just as gentle, but her name's never changed! Stone, Stone, Stone!

"My goodness, what's wrong? Is my nose on crooked?"
"No, Beth, listen-excuse the staring and I will only do it in the
future when I'm sure you aren't looking, or, better yet, I'll stare at
Senator Sewark's wife."
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment, since it came from you,
and since you never were an expert flatterer."
"No, never the politician, Beth," I replied, and downed my drink
quickly. But it didn't work anymore-I couldn't lose my feelings in
a scotch stupor-not with Jack coming soon. Beth lingered, staring
up at me in the friendly, expectant way she always did. And I never
tired of it. Maybe that's why I stick with Jack Stone. There were
never any violent arguments, of course, but Jack simply let it be
known that she wasn't for marriage. So, she can fill the time-honored
position of First Lady and sleep in a cold bed. It's just one of those
things that makes life all the more saltier.
"Well, if you're going to meditate all evening, I guess I'll have
to dance with someone else." At that moment, one of the faceless men
in the crowd moved behind her and asked her to dance. She turned
her warmth from me to him and disappeared back into the throng.

Then, suddenly, the noise outside invaded the relative privacy of
the hotel room. Wild cries, spontaneous applause and clangs rattled
the foundation and reverberated through the room. Everywhere, it
was "We want Jack. We want Jack." I reached carelessly for another
martini. The noise increased until it reached a frenzied peak. I
sauntered over to the window and stared into the illuminated dark-
ness. I didn't need to see the scene below. I had seen it before. I had
even organized scenes like this before. In a minute, Jack would ar-
rive.

The door flew open and a mass of nonentities came pouring in,
with smiling faces and whiskey on their breath. I didn't dislike these
people because I saw too much of myself in them, but I felt a hollow,
helpless pity for them-their existence depended on the forces they
could wrest from whoever was heading the Party, if the Party was
even in power. Now it was Jack, and they swarmed around him.
There's one that was distinctly different, though-Senator Potter.

Senator Potter-well-known to the public, but much wiser than
they anticipated-shad become a character on the American scene. He
entered the room, and I knew Jack would be right behind. As a trade-

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