-37-

John? What it means? I mean, really what it means?”
Faintly edgy, he answered, “I don’t know. No, I don’t. I don’t think about it at all. I just do it. What the hell’d you bring it up for?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she answered softly. She plopped into her glass; eyed it thoughtfully. “Yeah … yeah, I do,” she amended. “I sort of … well, I thought about it this morning … like a dream … waking up. I don’t know. I mean, it just sort of hit me … what it means. I mean, the end – the end! – like I’d never even heard of it before.” She shook her head. “Oh, Jesus, did that spook me! I felt like I was falling off the goddam planet at a hundred million miles an hour.”
“Oh, rubbish. Death’s a comfort,” Thompson sniffed.
“Not for me it isn’t, Charlie.”
Well, you live through your children.”
“Oh, come off it! My children aren’t me.”
“Yes, thank heaven. One’s entirely enough.”
“I mean, think about it, John! Not existing – forever! It’s –”
“Oh, for heaven sakes! Show your bum at the faculty tea next week and perhaps those priests can give you comfort!”
He banged down his glass. “Let’s another.”
“You know, I didn’t know they drank?”
“Well, you’re stupid.”
His eyes had grown mean. Was he reaching the point of no return? Shirley wondered. She had the feeling she had touched a nerve. Had she?
“Do they go to confession?” she asked him.
“How would I know!” he suddenly bellowed.
“Well, weren’t you studying to be a –”