Her robe was spread-eagled on the bed. Pendleton looked around the room. Before, there had been one carved stool at the vanity table. Now there were two. 

Pendleton left the apartment and ran down the hall, taking short, shallow breaths. But he couldn't just leave her. He bit his lip and went back through the still open door. 
"Come on, Beth. Don't be stubborn," he said into the bedroom, watching the two stools. 
He waited an hour. Then he turned off the lights and started to leave. Going out this time, he stepped on one of the wooden beads and almost fell onto the coffee table. 
Pendleton slammed Beth's door and went out into the clear night. If she could be stubborn, so could he. 

It was almost two weeks before she called him to apologize. She'd got him at the agency. He didn't stay in his apartment much. He kept talking to himself if he did. 
You could see the street from the little Italian restaurant they'd agreed to meet in. Pendleton sat at a round table close to the wide window and watched for Beth. There was a slight haze in the afternoon air and most of the secretaries that passed were coatless. 
Beth started smiling a quarter of a block from him. She was in a light cotton dress, weaving in and out of the noontime pedestrians. 
"Nice day," Pendleton said, standing. 
Beth smiled and sat down. "I noticed that right off." 
They ordered and Pendleton said, "How've you been?" 
"Great." She clasped her hands together on the checkered table top. "You were right, Ben. I'm sorry I was mean." 
Pendleton moved his glass of water three inches. "Good." 
"I've started seeing a very highly recommended analyst. Things are starting to look up. I haven't even had an impulse to filch anything in days." 
The food arrived. "It'll take time." 
"I have a great part in Alex's next play. It's really a challenge. By Ionesco. Being able to change will help." 
Pendleton set his fork down. "Huh?" 
"I tried changing into the character last night. It came off fine." 
"What are you seeing a psychiatrist for, then?" he asked, his voice low. 
"So I won't steal things anymore." 
He held the edge of the table for a minute, not meeting her eyes. Finally he said, "I see. Well, that's fine, Beth. How've things been at work?" 
Beth grinned and told him. 

The days were turning cool and the trees had started scattering dry leaves into the wind. On a sharp weekend afternoon Pendleton was killing time in the produce district before driving over to Beth's. 
There was a coffee shop open and Pendleton thought about crossing over for a cup of coffee. The whitewashed door of the place shot open and a fat woman with an orange-fringed shawl came 

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