Then it turned and came over to inspect a weather-beaten golf ball near the sprinkler. Ted watched it closely.
"Well, traveler, what did you think of Mars?"
"There's not much to see. Was that a dream?"
"Couldn't get your breath, could you? You _know_ you were there, don't you?"
The squirrel sat down. "Difficult, aren't you? Why should I bother?"
"She's a beautiful girl. Can't see why her husband would leave her."
The squirrel went over to nose the golf ball, again.
The squirrel sat up, looking at the nutmeg tree. "Look, Mr. Truesdale, we've got to have a meeting of minds. You know who's a beautiful girl, and so do I. Good gosh, you've been sitting there, drooling, all morning. And now you're back for more." The bright black eyes turned Ted's way. "Don't be so conventional. That's what kept you from being a first rate artist."
Ted said, "How can you talk without opening your mouth?"
"Well, how can you make yourself heard, then?"
"Do you have to pry, Truesdale? You're getting a break, as it is. Do you have to know _everything_?"
Ted looked at his hands, and at the nutmeg tree. And back at the squirrel. A thirty-nine year old retired artist, sitting in the sun and talking to himself. What a jerk he was getting to be.
"Okay, I've been wrong before." The squirrel started for the tree.
From below, the blonde glanced his way, and he realized his voice had carried that far.
The squirrel waited; the blonde went back to her book.
"What," Ted asked hesitantly, "did you mean about doing business?"
"You and the blonde. Don't tell me you wouldn't like to get to know her."
Ted squirmed in his chair. "I--well, she's certainly lovely."
"Sure. I'll go down and sound her out. I'll keep in touch, Truesdale."
The squirrel went down the hill and hopped on the low, red brick wall that bordered the patio. The blonde looked up from her reading.
Was _she_ talking to the squirrel? Her lips were moving.
Then she rose, and went into the house. When she came out again, she put some nuts on the low brick wall. And went back to her reading.
Ted watched for signs of further dialogue, but there were none. The squirrel came up the hill, the nuts bulging its cheeks. It didn't even glance at Ted as it went up the trunk of the tree.