Gene watched a military band march past the archway, then said, 'How many floors did we cover?'
'Dozen or two.'
'What floor is this?'
'The sixth, I think.'
'That far down? It's getting pretty congested. Think we can make it to the basement?'
'That's where the ruckus started, you said.'
'I was just guessing, but judging from the fact that it gets worse the farther down we go, I'd say I was right.'
'So, we go to the basement and see what's up.'
'Check. As soon as I catch my second wind.'
'My third.'
'Oh, no.'
A marching band in green uniforms with gold piping and epaulets trooped through the room, blaring out a peppy double-time number. Linda covered her ears and buried her face in the sofa.
When the last piccolo player had fast-stepped out, Gene said, 'I wonder where the football game is.'
'God, they were loud,' Linda complained as she sat up. 'Maybe this isn't the most dangerous disturbance we've had at the castle, but it certainly is the most annoying. What a racket.'
'I wish there was a door to this place.' Gene looked at her, frowning.
She returned his stare. 'What are you-?' Then it dawned on her. 'Oh. Yeah, right.'
She folded her arms and twitched her nose.
A stout oak door appeared under the formerly open archway to their right, along with a fitted section of wall. When she twitched again, an identical assemblage materialized to block the entrance opposite. The din outside became a dull hum.
'Sorry,' she said. 'Should have thought of it.'
'That nose business you do is strangely evocative, I must say.'
'I've rigged it as a trigger for my spells. I stole it from an old TV sitcom.'
'Of course. Television, the source of all wisdom. I'll never live up to Darin.'
'Of course you will. Who'll play the mother-in-law?'
'Endora? Deena.'
'Great, we're set for a long season.'
'High ratings.'
They laughed, then fell silent.
At length Linda said, 'Sure is quiet.'
'Yup.'
She looked at Gene. 'Want to talk about it?'
'It? Oh.'
'Us?'
'Yeah, us. What about us?'
She shrugged. 'Any future?'
He shrugged in turn. 'Dunno.'
'Should we have an affair?'
Gene chuckled. 'What a question.'
'I'm serious.'
'You really want my opinion?'
'Yes.'
'No.'
'We shouldn't?'
'Probably not,' Gene said. 'We make a good team. We've gone through a lot together. Maybe we shouldn't complicate it.'
Linda's shoulders fell a little. 'Maybe not.'
'Are you relieved or disappointed?'
'Don't know, really.'
'Are you hurt?'
'Hurt? No, not at all.'
'I like you, Linda.'
'And I like you. Guess I was being silly.'
'No. Oh, hell. Linda, I think you're attractive.'
'You do? You've never said so.'
'No, guess I never have said so. Seems to me that the subject simply never came up. But it's true. I've always thought you were attractive. The thing is-'
'What?'
'I've always thought of you as… above it all.'
'Above what?'
'You've always seemed… What am I trying to say? Uninterested, aloof from anything so mundane as romance.'
'Really?' Linda was amazed.
'Not true?'
Linda thought about it. 'Call it hibernation. I was just in a dormant state. You're forgetting the psychological wreck I was when I arrived here.'
Gene thought back. 'You're right. I'd quite forgot.'
'So now maybe I'm better. Or thought I was. Ready for romance. But that's out of the question.'
'Hey, I never said it was out of the question.'
'What did you say?'
'Well, you asked me if I thought it was a good idea for us to… you know.'
Linda smiled. 'You know?'
'You know, do that thing.'
'Sleep together. Gene, you're almost blushing.'
'Don't be silly, my dear. We men of the world-'
'You are blushing! You must have taken up with a dozen women since I've known you.'
'What? You're dreaming! And as far as blushing is concerned, I'm blushing because you're trying to make me blush. Stop that!'
Linda giggled. 'Sorry.'
'Okay, well… What the hell were we talking about?'
'Having sex.'
'Good God, woman! This isn't a proper conversation, not at all, not at all.'
'Prude.'
'Besides, `sex' in that usage is a misnomer, you know. `Sex' means gender, not coitus.'
'You should go on Jeopardy.'
'Well, it's true.'
'Fine. Anyway. So you didn't rule it out, but you don't think we should.'
'That's more or less what I said.'
Linda nodded. 'Okay, I can live with that, I suppose.'
'Wait a minute. What do you think?'
'What's it matter what I think if you don't think it's a good idea?'
'Because the fact that it might not be-I say might not be-such a good idea doesn't have anything to do with my maybe wanting to do it.'
'So your answer is maybe?'
Gene crossed his ankles and leaned back. 'Maybe.'
'Your answer is maybe, or maybe your answer is maybe?'
