March Hastings

Unconventional, even immoral, behavior certainly is not rare in Manhattan art circles. But what was going on in the menage of the Byrne woman raised eyebrows even of the most broadminded...

“Someday,” Paula said, “perhaps we can live together and share this every night.”
“Like a married couple?” Byrne laughed. “See me off to work? Have supper ready when I come home?”
“You're teasing me.”
“Not at all. I hadn't realized just how conventional you really are.” She rolled Paula to one side of the bed and nipped her earlobe playfully.
“It's not convention.”
“Maybe not. What would you call it?”
“Love.”
“I thought you hated the way your folks lived. Isn't that what you told me?”
“It isn't like that,” Paula said with distaste. “First of all, you're not poor.”