"Well. Enough of that." I said earnestly from across the room, "I'm real sorry, MarthaJane." She smiled weakly. "Thank you, hon. I know you are. It'll...bealright." She looked back at her book and began scribbling in hernotepad. For a long time--perhaps for most of the evening, it seems--she pored over her studies and remained unresponsive. Later that night I felt she was still mourning, despite sayingshe would get over it. I had seen a whole neighborhood full ofhurt, tragic people: widows, the. ."Understanding dawned — Linda in Marketing was the office prude. She was Utah born and breed and believed that bread should be white, mustard should be yellow and relations should be for marital purposes only. Linda tended to assume anyone one who had more than one date in a month was sleeping around. "Did she?" Helen smirked," And what else did Linda say?"Sage looked uncomfortable and hesitated but Helen reassured her. "Don't worry, I'm not mad. I just don't think she should have said. More

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