In the spring of 1932 Abel was somewhat surprised to receive a friendly letter from Melanie Leroy, more welcoming in tone than she had ever been in person. He was flattered, even excited, and called her to make a date for dinner at the Stevens, a decision he regretted the moment they entered the dining room for there, looking unsophisticated, tired and vulnerable, was Zaphia.

Melanie, in contrast, looked ravishing in a long mint green dress which indicated quite clearl~ what her body would be like if the mint were removed. Her eyes, perhaps taking courage from the dress, seemed greener and more captivating than ever.

,ieswonderful to see you looking so well, Abel,' she remarked as she took her seat in the centre of the dining room, 'and of course, everybody knows how well you are doing with the Richmond Group!

'Me Baron Group,'said Abel.

She flushed slightly. 'I didn!t realise you had changed the name.'

Tes, I changed it last year,' lied Abel. He had in fact de cided at that very moment that every hotel in the group would be known as a Baron hotel. He wondered why he had never thought of it before.

'An appropriate name,'said Melanie, smiling.

Zaphia set the mushroom soup in front of Melanie with a little thud that.

spoke volumes to Abel. Some of the soup nearly ended up on the mint green dress.

Toxere not working?' asked Abel, scribbling the words 'Baron Group' on the back of his menu.

'No, not at the moment, but things are looking up. a little. A woman with a liberal arts degree in this city has to sit around and wait for every man to be employed before she can hope to find a job.'

'If you ever want to work for the Baron Group,' said Abel, emphadsing the name slightly, 'you only have to let me know.'

'No, no,'said Melanie. 'I'm just fine.'

She quickly changed the subject to music and the theatre. Talking to her was an unaccustomed and pleasant challenge for Abel; she teased him, but with intelligence. She made him feel more confident in her company than he had ever been in the past. The dinner went on until well after eleven, and when everyone had left the dining room, including Q11 Zaphia, orninously red - eyed, he drove Melanie home to her flat, and this time she did invite him in for a drink. He sat on the end of a sofa while she poured him a prohibited whisky and put a record on the phonograph.

'I can't stay long,' Abel said. 'Busy day tomorrow!

qbat's what rm supposed to say, Abel. Don't rush. away, this evening has been such fun, just like old times.'

She sat down beside him, her dress rising above her knees. Not quite like old times, he thought. Incredible legs. He made no attempt to resist when she edged towards him. In moments he found he was kissing her - or was she kissing him? His hands wandered on to those legs and then to her breasts, and this time she seemed to respond willingly. It was she who eventually led him by the hand to her bedroom, folded back the coverlet neatly, turned around and asked him to unzip her. Abel obliged in nervous disbelief and switched out the light before he undressed. After that it was easy for him to put Joyce's careful tuition into practice. Melanie certainly was not lacking in experience herself; Abel had never enjoyed the act of making love more and fell into a deep contented sleep.

In the moming Melanie made him breakfast and attended to his every need, right up to the moment he had to leave.

'I shall watch the Baron Group with renewed interest,' she told him, 'not that anyone doubts that it's going to be a huge success!

qlank you,' said Abel, 'for breakfast and a memorable night.'

'I was hoping we'd be seeing each other again sometime soon,'Melanie added.

'I'd like that," said Abel.

She kissed him on the cheek as a wife rnight who was seeing her husband off to work.

'I wonder what kind of woman you'll end up marTying,' she asked innocently as she helped Abel on with his overcoat.

He looked at her and smiled sweetly. "When I make that decision, Melanie, you can be certain I shall only be influenced by your views.'

'What do you mean?' asked Melanie, coyly.

'Simply that I shall heed your advice,' replied Abel, as he reached the front door, 'and be sure to find myself a nice Polish girl who will marry me.'

Abel and Zaphia were married a month later. Zaphia'3 cousin, janek, gave her away and George was the best man. The reception was held at the Stevens and the drinking and dancing went on far into the night. By tradition, each man paid a token sum to dance with Zaphia, and George perspired as he battled round the room, photographing the guests in every possible permutation and combination. After a midnight supper of barszcz, pierogi and bigos downed with wine, brandy and Danzig vodka, Abel and Zaphia were allowed to retire to the bridal suite, with many a wink from the men and tears from the women.