`What do you think of our babysitter?' Dolly asks, adjusting a garter. `Oh, I hardly noticed,' he says. `Cute girl. She seems to get along fine with the kids. Why?' `I don't know.' His wife tugs her skirt down, glances at a lighted window they are passing, adding: `I'm not sure I trust her completely, that's all. With the baby, I mean. She seems a little careless. And the other time, I'm almost sure she had a boyfriend over.' He grins, claps one hand on his wife's broad gartered thigh. `What's wrong with that?' he asks. Still in anklets, too. Bare thighs, no girdles, nothing up there but a flimsy pair of panties and soft adolescent flesh. He's flooded with vague remem- brances of football matches and movie balconies.