Free One Fearful Yellow Eye by John D. MacDonald

person. I guess that because a man is famous in his field, it doesn't mean he can't be foolish and gullible about women. Of course, I didn't exactly make one of the world's best marriages."
    "Better luck next time."
    Her smile was cold. "No need for a next time, thank you."
    At that moment the red door swung open and a young man came hurrying in, saying, "Really, it's too much! Darling, that wretched Kirstarian is absolutely intent on ruining the entire exhibition, and I just..."
    He stopped and stared at me, eyebrows arching in surprise. "Well, excuse me! I didn't know anyone was..."
    "Mark," she said wearily, "you've promised and promised not to come charging in here. If you ever do it again, I'm going to make you give me that downstairs key back."
    "I was just terribly excited, Heidi. This is really a crisis! Wait until you hear! But shouldn't you introduce us?"

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    "Mr.Travis McGee. Mark Avanyan. Mark and I run a little gallery on East Scott Street."
    "The Tempo East," he said. He wore a shaggy green turtleneck and skinny jeans in an almost white denim. He had the build of a good welterweight in peak condition. His hair was a half-inch length of dense black pelt that began about an inch and a half above his dark heavy brows. He smiled approvingly at me. "It's so marvelous to see somebody who looks really outdoors." He sat on a bright blue hassock and tucked his sneakers under him and scowled and said,
    "Kirstarian is absolutely adamant, darling. He brought in a new piece and he says it goes in the show or there won't be any show. And I can't endure it. It is absolutely ghastly."
    He turned to me and explained, "Kirstarian calls his latest work Stappenings. For static happenings. He makes these marvelous life-size wire armatures of people and objects and wraps them with muslin and then sprays them with some sort of hardener. They have tremendous presence, they really do. And I have been working myself into exhaustion since dawn, practically, making the most effective arrangements, and then he comes in with his... impossible thing."
    "What is it, dear?" she asked.
    "It's two large dogs-uh-copulating like mad. They are sort of vaguely dogs, you know. Kirstarian just stands there, saying it is one of the statements he wishes to make in this show, and he is not going to let anyone censor his work. And there are those fat white terrible beasts, and it is the only thing people are going to look at, and it seems like some sort of terrible vulgar joke he's trying to play on us. Actually, he hates me. I'm just becoming aware of it. Heidi, darling, we're not ready to show something like that. I mean you could say that Chicago isn't ready. And the preview is tomorrow. And we've publicized it. Darling, you have to do something."
    "He's your friend, dear."
    "Not any longer, believe me."
    "Run along, Mark, dear. Run on back and tell him to wait and I'll be by in a little while to take a look."
    As he started to leave he looked into the studio at the new painting on the easel. "Heidi!" he cried. "It's stunning. And I believe it's transitional. Your work is getting so strong!"
    After saying he hoped we'd meet again, he went hurrying off.
    "Poor Mark," she said. "Everything is always a crisis. But he does work very hard. Had we finished?"
    "There's a couple of questions. I'd like to get a look at those problem dogs. If you want to change, I could ask the questions on the way."
    She changed to a gray flannel suit worn over a pale green sweater, and agreed it would be pleasant to walk the four blocks or so to the Tempo East Gallery. I did not have to shorten my normal stride very much to stay in step with her. I said, "Did you have any idea the bulk of the estate had been liquidated before the bank told you?"
    "I had no idea! Roger and I knew he'd changed his will and was cutting us each from a half to a Page 31

    quarter. Roger even had his attorney look into it, but there was nothing we could do. I suppose we could have guessed the