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Part 1

Adam lay on his back and glanced over at his wife. Eloise lay on her stomach, one arm folded underneath her head on the pillow while she languorously stretched out the other round, pale arm and pushed the small lever on the little metal box on the nightstand. She watched as the colorfully-enameled bird perched on top, flapped its clockwork wings and opened and closed its beak. The green-enameled leaves on the brown metal branch on which the little bird sat, moved as if with a breeze.

Eloise tucked her other arm under her chin as well and watched the little mechanism, listening to the whirr and click of its cogs and wheels.

Adam rolled over on his side and supporting his head and with one hand, caressed Eloise's back and exposed neck, marveling at her milky beauty.

"You look like a cat just waiting to pounce on the bird," he said, bending down to kiss her shoulder.

Eloise turned to look at him. "That's you. You're the cat—always waiting for you chance with me."

"A man has to take advantage of his opportunities when they arise." Adam kissed Eloise's back down the gentle curve of her spine until it was hidden by the covers. "So luscious," he murmured.

"I was thinking," Eloise said, "your friend Muncie, well, do you think that he could make something else like my little bird here?"

"You want another toy?" Muncie had made the little, mechanical piece for Eloise and had presented it to her the last time he visited the Ponderosa. And Adam knew that Muncie was in love with his wife and he imagined his friend working late into the might making the odd gift for Eloise and thinking of how happy it would make her. And Adam wondered if Muncie fantasized about Eloise when he was alone in his workshop or settling down for a night's sleep.

"Well, I was just wondering if he could make me a clockwork husband who I could just wind up and he could do all the things that you do—and maybe even better and more."

Adam looked at Eloise's face; her eyes were sparkling with mischief. He gave her buttocks a sharp smack.

"Ow!" She said in mock pain. "Would you be jealous if Muncie made a big, hulking mechanical husband for me who would be tireless and work at whatever task I set for him?"

Adam pulled his wife into his arms, his face buried in her neck as he murmured, "Yes, I would be jealous. I'm jealous of the wind when it blows against you, of these beautiful tresses that lay against your white neck and of the linen sheets that caress the body I love so much." And Adam raised his head to gaze at his wife and with Eloise looking at him, her mouth slightly open, Adam kissed her, and Eloise twined her arms around his neck. And thoughts of anything and anyone else but each other were banished form their minds.

"Muncie!" Adam Cartwright called out as he pushed his way through the halls to catch up with Muncie Hurd, his text books and notebook held under one arm. "Wait up!"

Muncie turned as Adam, a slight grin on his face, caught up to him. "I know what you're going to tell me," Muncie said, "that the exam scores for Boyd's class are posted and no, I haven't seen them; I'm avoiding them." Muncie turned and kept walking while Adam kept pace beside him.

"That wasn't it," Adam asked, "but I did see them. If you need help with the class, just ask me. I could have helped you make a better score."

Muncie glanced over at his friend, Adam Cartwright. Muncie came from a wealthier family than Adam's and Muncie hadn't had to establish himself—his family had lived in Boston for at least three generations and his grandfather had donated enough money to the university to establish the library years ago. But Adam practically glowed with a nimbus of light about him. It seemed that everyone wanted to be Adam's friend; he was clever, intelligent, and athletic and even though his shirt cuffs were beginning to become a bit frayed after four years, his family had enough money to send him across the country to be educated and having come from the western wilderness, there was a certain mystique about Adam. And if Adam hadn't been as good a friend to Muncie as he had and was, Muncie would have envied him, perhaps even hated him. But Adam had such an innate goodness of heart that Muncie loved his friend and could feel no jealousy, envy or the slightest dislike.

"I just don't understand those things—stories, plays and all that. If Boyd would have just asked who is who and what they did, I could do well on that type of test; I remember facts. But then he goes and asks us to write an essay comparing Cordelia and Desdemona! How am I supposed to do that? The only thing I could think of is that they're women and they have disapproving fathers. Oh, and they both die at the end. That's it. And then that second essay, the one on The Tempest! How am I supposed to compare it to the stratification of modern society? I have no idea what he was talking about, Adam. I know I failed that test miserably. And now I'll have to take the course over, that is if I'm not thrown out first. All I understand is numbers and calculations and engineering." Muncie ducked his head and continued walking. He felt that everyone was looking at him and either feeling superior or feeling pity and he hated both emotions when aimed at him.

"C'mon," Adam said. "It's not the end of the term—there'll be the final exam and I'll help you study. Let's go to the coffeehouse and if you want, I'll explain the essays." Adam put one arm around his friend's shoulders; he stood at least half a foot taller than his quiet friend.

"I'll go for coffee but I don't ever want to think about that exam or Shakespeare again. At least not until I have to" The two young students chuckled.

"Now how are you ever going to seduce a woman if you don't learn some poetry?" Adam asked.

"Adam," Muncie said, "look at me. I could recite the whole of Romeo and Juliet and all I'd do is bore her. I'll never seduce a woman. Not with the way I look. Unless a talk on how to build a bridge to eliminate sway makes her excited, I'll never bed one."

"Ah," Adam said, his brows shooting up, "what if I told you that you don't have to work at seducing a woman? Rosie has a friend who believes the same as she—free love and the abandonment of marriage and social conventions is the only way to go. And she has asked me to find a young man for her friend, someone to escort her places and to keep company with, so to speak, and, Muncie, I thought of you. This is going to be your lucky Friday night."

"Me?" Muncie glanced over at Adam who was widely grinning. "What the hell made you think of me?"

"Well, Rosie said that Sylvia, that's her friend's name, likes the 'unconventional,' and, Muncie, you are unconventional."

"So, Sylvia is one of those free thinkers, huh? Wants the vote and to be able to take jobs from men?"

Adam paused and then answered, "Yes."

"And let me guess; she thinks that the wife should be able to work and the husband should tend to hearth and home and the children."

"Probably—but I also think she secretly may like a man with money and, Muncie, you do have money. Money is attractive to all women—no matter how progressive they claim to be."

"Just the girl for me," Muncie said with a slightly dour grin, and Adam clapped Muncie on the back and both young men laughed loudly as they exited the building, causing others to turn to glance at the odd pair; handsome tall, muscular Adam Cartwright and the small, plain, squat young man who was dwarfed by the other.