"If you want me to." Andrea had never been so conscious of the twelve years' difference in their ages. After sleeping most of the day, Jim was back to normal, whereas she felt as if she had been put through a wringer. Watching him shovel in quantities of leftover casserole and half of Mrs. Horner's pie, her stomach heaved. Martin had only picked at his food. A stranger comparing him and Jim would have unhesitatingly selected him as the one who had overindulged. He appeared to be suffering from a massive hangover, and although "tactful" was not a term Andrea would have applied to his conversational technique, he was normally a little more oblique than he had been on this occasion. Without introductory comments or any reference to Andrea's opinion, he had blurted out, "I want you to see a psychiatrist friend of mine, Jim. Will you go?" Jim's ready response caught him unawares. He had geared himself up for an argument, and when his prepared speech became unnecessary he was at a loss for words.
