She had turned twenty-nine that week before, and on midnight of the day itself had burst into tears because Martin had not called. She knew he wouldn't and really didn't want him to, but part of her still clung to certain primitive sentiments, or what used to be called girlish ways. Now she smiled wryly at the memory, wondering how long it would take to forget him completely, simultaneously sad at the realization that such a time might indeed come. For Julia Gordis evening had always been the most beautiful part of the day.