By then there were stirrings from the
upper quarter。 She worked until he was in the bathroom and dallied in
the kitchen until he returned to his room。 When he came downstairs； she
was back at work； sitting at the small desk that stood beneath a side
window of the living room。
Then the trouble began。 For nearly ten minutes he looked over her
shoulder while she worked as best she could。 Then he made a racket with
pots and pans in the kitchen。 When that ended； there was whistling； loud
and persistent； the same tune； over and over and over again。
Worst were interruptions of the 〃Hey； where is 。。 。〃 variety。 First it
was； 〃Hey； where's the salt？〃 Then； 〃Hey； where's the ketchup？〃 Then；
〃Hey； where's the large spatula？〃
By this time she knew he was baiting her； so she didn't scream。 Calmly；
she put down her pen； set her glasses aside； and made for the kitchen to
register a civil plaint。
〃Are there any more？ migod； what are you doing？〃 She ran across the room；
only to drop her outstretched arms in disgust and raise her eyes
heavenward in search of patience。
〃What's the trouble？〃 He was all innocence。
She peered once more into the half…empty jar in his hand。 〃Those are my
macadamia nuts。 I've been saving that itty…bitty jar for this vacation！
〃
〃So I'll buy you another jar。 Is money that tight？〃
Anne scowled。 She reached for