The Enchanter Completed

I suppose it all came back to the fact that Pinch's forebears had been too long in exile from the proper circles. The poor lad simply did not know any better. One does not swat a puppy for irrigating the Aubusson, one trains it gently away from such behavior. Thus I attempted to do with Pinch. As delicately and as expediently as possible, I attempted to show him his error.

It did not work. "Now look, old man," he told me, "I honestly don't see the harm in anything I've said. When Ren-e rejoins us, I'm sure she'll agree with me. The lady wants to join the Club; won't she be investigated by the Board? Won't they want to know about her fiscal status?"

"Just as that charming nurse from the insurance company wanted to know whether I indulged in recreational pharmaceuticals and the love that dare not speak its name," I replied coldly. "This information I provided willingly, but I do not think I would want her speaking of it ad libitum whenever the conversation flags."

"Her money's clean, if that's what's troubling you," Pinch persisted. "None of it earned in trade." It was his turn to shudder. Apparently some of the old Dawkins breeding had survived the lean years. "Inherited, every last shilling and shekel. Apparently her first husband was successful in his chosen field of endeavor."

"Which was-?"

"Oh, she didn't get around to telling me that." Pinch swirled the dregs of his Scotch around the bottom of the glass and tried to look coy. He made a sorry hash of it.

"Let me guess," I said. "You want to marry her."

"Am I so transparent?" He was hurt.

"I've known martinis more opaque than you. And I don't mean those noxious modern variants." (A chocolate martini? Why not marshmallow-flavored foie gras as well? O rank madness!)

"Ah, well." He shrugged. "Can you blame me? I love her. I fell in love with her when first we met. She's beautiful, she's genteel, and she's got oodles of-"

"Please." I raised a staying hand before he could expound upon the lady's nummulary virtues once more. "In that case, I fail to see why you are trying to promote her membership in the Club. Why not wait until after you are wed and purchase a joint membership?"

Pinch showed a disquieting smile. "Because the Club, in its wisdom, does not offer joint memberships. It offers single memberships and family memberships, and the family membership includes privileges for two children, whether you have them or not."

"Is that so?" I mused. Really, the matter had never crossed my mind, being as I am a contented bachelor.

Pinch nodded with vigor. "And because the family membership covers two children, it costs much more than if you were to purchase two individual memberships."

"I see." I nodded. "Then your course of action is clear."

Pinch's face fell. "I wish it were."

"It's not?"

"Hardly. You see, I wish to marry Ren-e with all due haste."

"Good Lord, man, you do not mean to imply that the lady is-?" I leaped to the inevitable conclusion that perhaps the happy couple soon would be getting their money's worth out of a family membership after all.

Pinch turned a stu

"Marry her, then." I honestly failed to see the problem.

"Oh yes, that would be nice." His words had the bitter tang of a grapefruit rind. "Except for the fact that the Club forbids married couples from purchasing anything but family memberships."

"Do we?" It came as news to me. Like most of my fellow members, I had never read the Club's charter and bylaws in their entirety. I paused to savor the cleverness of this profitable wrinkle in our Rules before replying, "Still, nothing to prevent you and Ren-e from cohabiting without benefit of prenuptial agreement."

"Are you out of you mind, man?" Pinch's fine nostrils flared with abhorrence at my lightly spoken suggestion of extramatrimonial cohabitation. "How would it look?"

"That presumes that anyone would care enough to look," I replied mildly. "We do know how to tend to our own knitting here at the Club."

Pinch snorted his skepticism. "Then someone's dropped a stitch or two. My friend, either you are the victim of a charming though potentially toxic naivet-, or else you are speaking just to hear your jaws clatter. I am neither blind nor deaf: I know how matters stand at the Club and I tell you that the wind one feels so constantly at one's back hereabouts comes from the clandestine waggling of every tongue on the premises. No, sir, I assure you that my union with Miss Speranza will be as open and aboveboard as it will be legal, moral, and-"

— financially rewarding? I thought. But of course I said nothing of the sort aloud. Instead I clasped Pinch's hand, shook it firmly, and reassured him that I had intended no offense to him or the lady. A few further social pleasantries, an assortment of good wishes for the favorable pursuance of his courtship, a swift-yet-delicate change of conversational topic to the neutral ground of fly fishing, and the sweet breath of Elysium blew o'er our colloquy once more.

We had been debating the merits of dry versus wet flies for approximately twenty minutes when I thought to remark, "I say, Pinch, it's been rather a long time since Miss Speranza left us. Do you think all's well?"

"All is quite well," said Miss Speranza.

I am not the highly strung type. I do not start at shadows nor am I known to be especially goosey in even the most trying circumstances (of which, I admit, the Club seems to have more than its proper share). My sangfroid is almost as legendary as my tailor. Thus my reaction to Miss Speranza's abrupt utterance was all the more significant.

In brief, I jumped out of my skin, off my chair, and halfway to Greenwich.

My startlement was so great that it caused me to thrust a very comfortable leather chair out from under myself. The chair was set on impeccably oiled brass casters, which conveyed it almost the length of the Club bar until it bumped into a wall. My own trajectory was more of the simple what-goes-up-must-come-down variety. It brought me to land on the carpet, an accomplishment that did neither my dignity nor my coccyx any favors.

I waited to hear Pinch's laughter ring out at my expense. It did not. The unexpected irruption of Miss Speranza's voice had caused him to react in much the same way as myself.

"Oh my," said the fair cause of our discomfiture as she gazed down at us. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you like that."

We got to our feet and reassured her in unison that no apology was necessary. "Our fault entirely for not having remarked upon your charming presence, my dear," I said.

Pinch hastened to retrieve his chair, which had traveled almost as far away from its launch point as my own. He swiftly turned a gaffe into gallantry by offering it to his lady before pulling over another seat for himself. I passed a few minutes' chat with them, for ma

"Ah, what a precious thing it is to find one's soul mate," I murmured, wending my lonesome way into the Club rose garden.

I was making the closer acquaintance of a blushing Mamie Eisenhower (the rose, bien s-r) when I became aware of a rustling among the thorns that could not be ascribed to gophers nor Green Card-manqu- groundsmen, both of which are renowned for knowing how to keep a low profile in chancy times.

"Who goes there?" I demanded, my hand dropping automatically to my Club-issued dog whistle.