Inspiration

Tuesday. Roderick awakes, exits the bed and pads over to the dresser, where he withdraws one of the neatly folded white Oxford button-down shirts, threads his arms into the sleeves and fastens the buttons. Then he dons one of his identical pairs of khaki-colored pleated pants, a pair of argyle socks and casual shoes.

Roderick slept alone last night. He thinks this is preferable to sleeping with two companions given the size of his bed, but he misses Molly when she's absent for the evening.

On the way to the Dining Hall, Roderick sees the impact of Hurricane Sandy on the Old Ivy campus: leaves blown off trees, a couple of branches down and, at the far end of the Quad near the river, an entire tree down. Still standing tall: Thinking Tree, Kissing Tree and the nameless tree that shields other student activities.

Mr. Rothschild's History of Banking lectures have completed a survey of the ancient world and Byzantine banking; today, he covers the early Florentine banking families beginning in the twelfth century. The Peruzzi and Bardi companies built fortunes by trading in English wool woven in Bruges, tinted in Florence and marketed throughout the Mediterranean. They then loaned this wealth out to princes, popes and kings, a practice that continued for some years until Edward III of England defaulted on his loans, sending the Peruzzi and Bardi into bankruptcy in 1345.

"This is a common pattern in the history of banking," observes Mr. Rothschild. "People create wealth through skill and ingenuity, then lose it all by lending to the government. Margaret Thatcher once said that the problem with socialism is that 'sooner or later you run out of other people's money.' What she did not say is that when you do run out of other people's money, the first thing you do is default on your debts."

Roderick eats dinner with Molly, who spent the afternoon posing again for Mr. Splatter, the contemporary artist in residence.

"He wanted to smear chocolate all over me again," says Molly, wrinkling her nose. "I had to shower for fifteen minutes to get it off."

"Is he doing your portrait?"

"No, I think it just inspires him to see me standing there wearing nothing but chocolate syrup."

Roderick comments that he, too, would likely find that inspiring.

After dinner, Molly and Roderick work on Logic and Rhetoric together. Roderick makes a quick call home. Mrs. Smith answers; he asks her to give Laddie and Knuckles a hug.

Then it's off to bed for the two of them.

Snuggling together with Molly, Roderick wonders aloud: "I wonder what Mr. Smiley is up to?"

Prurient Designs

Pamela Primrose plays partitas prettily; preludes and passacaglias, too. With panache, she plays J.S. Bach: English Suites and French Suites, Partitas and Toccatas, Preludes and Fugues from The Well-Tempered Clavier (Books One and Two), and the greatest work of all, the Goldberg Variations.

But the composer closest to her heart is Domenico Scarlatti, who wrote five hundred fifty five sonati for the fortepiano. Pamela aspires to perform all of them.

Pamela is a third-year student at Old Ivy; an experienced fugalist, she tutors Molly and Anna on the esoteric art of Counterpoint. Today, she demonstrates the Cantus Firmus, according to the rules:

1. The cantus firmus is traditionally written in alto clef, a member of the movable clef family known as "C" clefs. C clefs include the alto clef, the tenor clef (both still in use today), and the soprano clef. In all C clefs, middle C is located where the arms of the clef meet

2. The cantus firmus begins and ends on the tonic of the key or the final of the mode. The penultimate note should be the note a step above the tonic or final (the second tonal or modal degree).

3. All notes are of equal length; the whole note is the traditional value.

And so forth, through Rule 14:

14. There should be a good balance between ascending and descending motion; the cantus firmus should possess a pleasing shape and should change direction several times.

Pamela practices perfect penmanship: her whole notes are perfectly elliptical, centered precisely on the staves and equidistant from one another.

Pausing, she pouts. Today, Pamela has a problem.

Anna and Molly show concern. "What's wrong?" asks Molly.

Pamela puts her pen down precipitously and primps her pink pleated skirt. "My birthday is coming soon," she says, sadly.

Anna smiles. "That's wonderful! Happy Birthday! But why so sad?"

"I'm going to be twenty-one."

"Even better! Congratulations!"

Pamela bursts into tears. Anna, sitting next to her, pats her shoulder and hands her some Kleenex. Molly frowns, puzzled. "Tell us what's bothering you," she whispers. "Maybe we can help."

On hearing this, Pamela sobs even harder. "N-n-n-no, y-y-you c-c-c-can't." She buries her head in her hands.

There is a pregnant moment as Pamela despairs. Anna and Molly look on helplessly.

Pamela peers out from behind her hands, eyes red and rimmed with tears. She lowers her voice. "I-I-I-I'm a v-v-v-v-virgin," she says, trembling and looking around in shame.

"Oh!" says Anna, suddenly understanding. "The Rule."

"Yes," says Molly. "The Unwritten Rule."

Pamela nods.

Molly leans forward. "How much time do we have?"

"Two weeks."

"I think we can help."

"Really?"

"There's someone we'd like you to meet."

"Someone who can help me with my problem?"

"Someone with the same problem only, you know, different."

"Does he like Domenico Scarlatti? I would never let a man fuck me unless he likes Scarlatti."

Molly ponders that one, partly because she's a little surprised to hear Pamela say the word 'fuck', and also because she never expected to hear the words 'fuck' and 'Scarlatti' juxtaposed in the same sentence.

"Yes, I believe he does."

Pamela is pleased to hear that one who is passionate for Scarlatti might have prurient designs on her purity.

Completely Chaste

Sunday morning. Roderick disentangles himself from the pile of limbs that is his bed and, virtue intact, steps over to the dresser and withdraws one of the dozen neatly folded identical white Oxford button-down shirts Mrs. Smith buys from Wickett's Bazaar Online. He places the folded shirt on top of the dresser and grabs one of six identical pairs of khaki-colored pleated pants -- also from Wickett's Bazaar -- and pulls them on over a fresh pair of underwear.

As he unfolds the shirt, the pile of flesh on the bed stirs, moans, and Emily extricates herself. Roderick threads his arms into his shirt. Emily, nude, pads over to him and helps him button the front buttons.

Wow, she thinks. He sings, he knows Logic, and he dresses well.

For today's service, the Bach Chorale plans to do the Bach cantata BWV 109 Ich glaube, lieber Herr, hilf meinem Unglauben!. Roderick and Emily need to get over to the St. Cecilia Chapel; Emily dresses quickly and they depart, leaving Megan sprawled naked in a snoring heap, holstered Glock resting on the table beside the bed.

"Good morning, Anna," says Roderick. They meet Anna on the path behind the church. Ever the lady, she wears a pretty floral dress and looks gorgeous as always.

"Good morning!". Anna waves to Roderick and Emily. Strange, she thinks. She feels curiously attracted to Roderick. Must be that innate biological attraction of women to men who sing.

The service goes well. Zack stands behind Emily and, while Mrs. Dowager sings the Alto solo Der Heiland kennet ja die Seinen, inserts his hand beneath her skirt and explores. He is pleased to discover that she wears nothing underneath; Emily is not displeased.

Returning to the Quad, Roderick bumps into Molly, who is on her way to the Arts building. It seems that she has a private session with Mr. Splatter, modern artist in residence, who wants her to smear chocolate sauce and raspberry jam on her nude body before he does her portrait.

It occurs to Roderick that Molly is the only person he knows who can indulge the most perverse fantasies and still remain completely chaste.

Chicks With Glocks

Saturday morning; Molly snuggles up against Roderick. "I don't want to get up yet", she moans. "But I have to go and practice."

Roderick snuggles back.

"I feel like I should spend more time with you, now that we are officially a couple," Molly murmurs. "But I'm so busy with practicing, posing, counterpoint studies, and you're so busy with everything, it's hard to find a moment."

"Don't worry," whispers Roderick. "When you're busy I can spend time with my other girlfriends."

Molly hugs him. "You know that rule we heard about the other day? The one that says we have to do it before we're twenty-one?"

"Hmm, yes," says Roderick. "The unwritten rule."

"Well, I'm thinking that we should do it before the first of July in 2015."

Roderick helpfully observes that the rule says one must have sex before the age of twenty-one, but it's not necessary to wait that long.

Molly kisses him. "I'm glad we agree on this." She exits the bed and departs.

At breakfast, Roderick sits by himself and indulges in a plate of scrapple and applesauce. Megan joins him looking very fetching with her long wavy red hair, substantial decolletage, revealing plaid miniskirt and Glock automatic holstered on her hip.

"Nice weapon," quips Roderick. He's used to it, of course. Megan is well beyond "concealed carry" and prefers "open carry", under the premise that an armed society is a society where prospective rapists think twice before targeting chicks with Glocks.

"Are you coming to the Anti-Rape Fair today?" asks Megan.

No, Roderick isn't planning to attend the Anti-Rape Fair today, but he wishes Megan good luck, and tries to imagine how she would look wearing nothing but the holstered Glock.

"We tell the women to forget self-defense and stuff, just blow their heads off."

Roderick comments that he thinks that blowing the heads off off prospective rapists is a very effective, if somewhat messy way to deal with them.

"Can I come over tonight? I need some help with Logic."

Roderick consents to a nocturnal visit from Megan, knowing full well that help with Logic is not what she seeks.

On his way to the St. Cecilia Chapel, Roderick passes through the Anti-Rape Fair, and notices the large crowd around the "Chicks With Glocks" booth, where Megan holds forth.

In the evening, there is a knock on Roderick's door. He opens, expecting Megan. It's Emily, who pushes her way in.

"Can I stay over tonight?" she coos. "I'm lonely."

Before Roderick can answer, there is another knock. This time, it's Megan, who still looks fetching with her long wavy red hair, substantial decolletage, revealing plaid miniskirt and Glock automatic holstered on her hip.

"Megan, this is Emily. Emily, Megan."

"Oh I know you!" exclaims Emily. "You were at the Fair. Can I see your weapon?"

"Well you know," says Megan, unstrapping her holster. "The first thing we learn in gun training is you should never draw your weapon unless you plan to use it."

Emily and Megan animatedly discuss guns and ammunition. Roderick returns to his desk and works on syllogisms.

Around ten o'clock, Roderick yawns. The women are still talking about guns. He interrupts. "I'm thinking about turning in. Are you ladies sleeping over, or do you want me to walk you home?"

The ladies are sleeping over. Roderick slips under the covers; Megan joins him on one side and Emily on the other.

It's very quiet in the room, and the light of the half-moon dimly illuminates the room. Roderick thinks that the present arrangement is very pleasant, but it may be necessary to get a larger bed if they make a regular thing of it.

The Bard of Old Ivy

On Friday, Megan goes to visit with Mr. Nigel Hawthorne, Distinguished Lecturer in English Literature. At Old Ivy, they call Mr. Hawthorne "The Bard" for his thoughtful essays on college life; elsewhere, he is best known for his series of "Captain Rakewell" novels for young adults. Captain Rakewell is best described as a fusion of Horatio Hornblower and the Marquis de Sade; the books are written in a style reminiscent of the Hardy Boys, if you overlook the BDSM.

Prospective writers among the Old Ivy student body flock to Mr, Hawthorne's seminars, and seek his counsel, even though his advice is at best elliptical. Students revere his literary voice, his elevated prose, his mastery of the English language; and above all, they admire his ability to earn massive royalties by pandering to the tastes of adolescents, and desire to do the same.

Brushing back her red hair and checking to make sure her decolletage is sufficiently exposed, Megan knocks on Mr. Hawthorne's office door.

"Enter!" comes the booming, resonant, Shakespearean voice.

Megan obeys. Mr. Hawthorne, with scruffly grey beard and a longish curly mane, reclines in an executive style office chair, sandalled feet on desk. He wears something that looks like a cross between a daishiki and an aloha shirt, which is just long enough to make it unclear whether or not he wears anything else.

The room smells of cigar smoke, body odor and something else that smells familiar but Megan can't quite place. She wrinkles her nose and sniffs. Got it. Spermicide.

Mr. Hawthorne has the string to a yellow yo-yo in his right hand, and seems to be concentrating on his yo-ing. "Speak!" he commands.

Megan does so. "I want to be a writer, and my friends say I should come to you for advice."

Mr. Hawthorne performs a perfect "around the world" trick with the yo-yo. "You have smart friends. What is your question?"

"Is it better to publish something every day, or is it better to publish only good quality work?"

Mr. Hawthorne catches the yo-yo, then relaxes back into the chair, staring at a spot in the ceiling with intense eyes for a pregnant minute.

"Both," he says.

Megan thanks Mr. Hawthorne and departs.

Fortuna's Temple

They say you can get anything you like in Fun City. If you savor braised medallions of monkey thigh served on a bed of sea prawns by a nude Korean masseuse who gently caresses you with hot stones while you dine, you can do so in Fun City. There are brothels catering to every fetish and perversion you've ever heard of, and likely some you haven't. And of course there are six ways from Sunday for you to demonstrate your belief in the Gambler's Fallacy by staking your hard-earned income on the proposition that the Law of Large Numbers is wrong, or that it doesn't apply to you.

You can get anything you like in Fun City, but you can't get scrapple.

Mr. Smith exits the elevator from his hotel room into Camelot's vast cavernous medieval-themed labyrinth of a casino. He is immediately assaulted by the thick smell of cigarette smoke partially masked by perfumed air freshener and the cacophony of thousands of guests demonstrating their belief in Fortuna, the Roman goddess of luck, by staking their hard-earned income on the proposition that the Law of Large Numbers is wrong, or does not apply to them, or is at least temporarily suspended.

Mr. Smith thinks it's touching that so many people believe in something.

One obese matron sits at a Black Gold 50 Grand slot machine, her buttocks spilling over the sides of the seat, pressing the "play" button so fast and hard that Mr. Smith expects repetitive stress syndrome will ensue. He wonders if she will then apply for Social Security Disability Income. Likely Obama voter, he thinks.

Making his way through the casino floor, as one must do to go anywhere, Mr. Smith passes an overpriced Medieval-themed restaurant and an overpriced "Celebrity" restaurant to get to the overpriced "Casual" restaurant. He takes a seat and peruses the menu.

"Hi, I'm Gloria, and I'll be serving you this morning." Gloria personifies Middle American womanhood, with the possible exception of the dragon tattoos decorating her arms from wrist to shoulder, and the purple hair. Gloria is dressed in what would be an authentic Medieval costume if Medieval women exposed all but the pink parts of their boobs and wore kilts that, on bending over, expose lacy underwear embroidered with the words "Precious Cargo."

"Can I get some scrapple?" It's not on the menu, but Mr. Smith is hoping that he can, in fact, get whatever he wants in Fun City.

"What's that?" Wherever Gloria comes from, it seems that scrapple is not part of the local cuisine.

Mr. Smith warms to his favorite subject. "Scrapple is a mush of pork scraps and trimmings combined with cornmeal and buckwheat flour, and spices. The mush is formed into a semi-solid congealed loaf, and slices of the scrapple are then panfried before serving. It is best known as a rural American food of the Mid-Atlantic region, and commonly considered an ethnic food of the Pennsylvania Dutch, including the Mennonites and Amish."

Gloria squints. "I'll ask." She departs, stooping for a moment to scoop up a scrap of paper from the carpet and exposing precious cargo.

Mr. Smith scans the room and notes that most of the other diners, all of whom seem to be taking a break from placing bets against the Law of Large Numbers, also seem to be placing bets against the science of nutrition, at least so far as it concerns weight management.

Gloria returns. "We don't have that." Mr. Smith orders a cheese omelet instead.

The omelet, when it arrives, is enormous. This seems to be a pattern in Fun City. Overfeeding lulls the frontal cortex into a state of oblivion; the rubes stagger out of the dining rooms and, in a state of moral euphoria, continue to spend the milk money on bets against the Law of Large Numbers.

The check, when it arrives, is equally enormous.

Later that day, Mr. Smith addresses the conference. The text of his speech:

Thank you ladies and gentlemen. The key to successful investment management is this: invest prudently, diversify broadly, avoid undue risk, and respect the Law of Large Numbers. Thank you.

There is a thunderous wave of applause. Mr. Smith smiles, waves and departs Fun City.

Fun City

Old Ivy students come from a range of cultures, so the Dining Hall offers a variety of breakfast meats, including scrapple, bacon, hash, sausages, smoked fish and a variety of organ meats. For students seeking to adhere to Halal or Kosher diets, there is turkey hash and several kinds of chicken sausage. For those who do not eat meat, fruits, grains and cheese are in plentiful supply.

Roderick, of course, always goes for the scrapple. This morning, he fills his plate and joins Molly, Anna and Natasha, who are already in deep conversation.

Molly wants to know how Natasha's date with Albert went last night. Not well, it turns out. It seems that Albert is not keen on the Dusseldorf School -- or at least he is not as keen as Natasha, and is more inclined towards the illustrative style of N.C.Wyeth. It seems his tastes in music are also problematic.

"I asked him if he likes Mendelssohn, and he said he thinks Mendelssohn is 'interesting', which I guess is a yellow flag right there. So then I asked him to name his favorite composer and he thinks for a minute and says the likes Bach a lot but his favorite composer is Scarlatti -- can you imagine that? Scarlatti!" Natasha spits out the words as if Albert said his favorite hobby is killing small children and eating them for lunch.

Roderick muses that yes, he understands how such a difference in tastes would be challenging for a relationship.

Natasha sighs. "It's so hard for a single mom to find a man."

Well, so much for that. Albert still has a problem.

Meanwhile, Mr. Smith steps off an airplane in Fun City. The National Association of Endowment Managers has scheduled its annual conference here in the famous mecca of gambling and sin. The conference organizers have asked Mr. Smith to do a presentation on the subject of "Capital Accumulation Through Prudent Investing and Respect for the Law of Large Numbers."

His first impression of Fun City: there are slot machines in the Arrivals lounge.

Picking up his baggage, Mr. Smith enters the line for a taxi, which is about a half-mile long. Wow, he thinks. What a fun city.

The taxi takes him to the conference venue: Camelot, a Disneyesque medieval-themed hotel-casino in the form of a castle inside which thousands of guests spend their incomes attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers. Across the street is a Disneyesque Paris-themed hotel casino inside which thousands of guests spend their incomes attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers; adjacent to that, there is a Disneyesque New York themed hotel-casino inside which thousands of guests spend their income attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers.

Sure is a lot of variety here in Fun City, thinks Mr. Smith.

Stepping inside Camelot, Mr. Smith is immediately assaulted by the noise of slot machines, roulette tables and thousands of guests spending their incomes attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers, plus the smell of cigarette smoke. A very buxom young woman dressed in a faux-medieval outfit approaches him.

"Hi, I'm Mandy! Welcome to Camelot! Can I tell you all about the wonderful things to see and do in Fun City?"

Mr. Smith pauses. "I don't drink, smoke cigarettes, gamble, go to celebrity 'shows' or whorehouses. What else do you have?"

Mandy pauses, clearly stumped, then looks over Mr. Smith's shoulder at the next guest.

"Hi, I'm Mandy! Welcome to Camelot! Can I tell you all about the wonderful things to see and do in Fun City?"

At the Registration desk, there is a line about a quarter of a mile long. Wow, thinks Mr. Smith. What a fun city.

Girlfriend Number Three

Mr. and Mrs. Smith rarely go to church on Sunday. Mr. Smith likes to say his form of worship is to sit on the porch and sip a cup of coffee, and Mrs. Smith -- well, she's just not very devout.

The Blooms, on the other hand, are pillars of the Church of Nothing, attending each Sunday like clockwork in their Sunday finest. Well, not exactly; Mr. and Mrs. Bloom wear their Sunday finest and Mary wears her long white "virgin" dress, but Molly, Margaret and Catherine wear whatever. Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty have no real control over their attire, but are very respectful in church.

Roderick, Molly, Anna, Megan and Natasha gather together with the Smiths and Blooms outside the St. Cecilia Chapel. They all greet one another cheerfully.

"Natasha, how are Felix and Fanny?" Mrs. Smith wants to know.

"They were fine yesterday when I skyped them," says Natasha. "Mrs. Pampers has everything under control."

"You're so brave going back to school, being a single Mom and all."

Natasha looks off into the distance. "It's a struggle...."

Roderick and Anna walk around to the back of the chapel where the Bach Chorale gathers. Mr. Mendelssohn reviews a few points for today's performance and the singers warm up.

Meanwhile, the others walk reverently into the chapel, looking around, craning their necks to admire the stained glass, the darkly carved wood and the impressive chapel vault. They take their seats about midway to the front, on the right hand side, sitting in order: Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith, Molly, Mrs. Bloom, Mary, Mr. Bloom, Megan, Natasha, Margaret, Catherine, Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty.

As Mr. Pipes begins the Prelude Megan removes her Glock from its holster and places it next to the hymnals with a clunk. The girls giggle and the grown-ups shoosh.

Mrs. Smith whispers to Molly: "How are you getting along with Roderick?"

Molly smiles and, while she says nothing, conveys the message that all is well, they are very happy to be together in college.

Mr. Bloom noodges Megan. "There's that boy I told you about." He gestures toward Albert, who sits a few rows ahead.

Megan turns up her nose. "I have a boyfriend, thank you very much."

Mary overhears the conversation. "Daddy, he looks so pathetic," she whispers. "Maybe I should have given him a discount."

Mr. Bloom leans closer. "That's the worst thing you can do, honey. It's all about branding. People value what they can't afford. If you start giving out freebies, nobody will want to pay for it anymore. They'll just say you're a slut."

Mrs. Bloom whispers: "Father knows best, dear."

Mary sighs. Daddy is so smart. She thinks maybe she would like to go into Advertising when she's older, after she's too old to sell access to her pussy for cash. Like maybe when she's twenty two.

The congregants fall silent as the members of the Bach Chorale file in and take their places in the choir. Today is the eighth Sunday of Trinity; keeping with the liturgical calendar, the Chorale performs Bach's cantata BWV 136, Erforsch Mich, Gott und Erfahre Mein Herz.

When the Chorale finshes, Mr. V.I.Kamasutra of the Philosophy department makes his way to the altar to deliver an inspirational message on predestination. Today's theme: Everything is Predetermined, So Give Up.

Mr. Pipes plays another Bach Chorale Prelude, and the service is finished. The congregants file past Mr. Kamasutra for a handshake and greeting on the way out:

"So nice to see you."

"So nice to see you."

"So nice to see you."

"Lovely sermon, Mr. Kamasutra."

"Thank you. So nice to see you."

"So nice to see you."

In the crowd outside, Molly cranes her neck looking for Roderick and Anna. Spying Albert, she grabs Natasha's hand and leads her over to greet him.

"Albert, I'd like you to meet Natasha. She's an artist"

"Nice to meet you, Natasha." Albert extends his hand

Natasha smiles. "Hi."

There is a slightly awkward moment as Albert and Natasha search for conversation. Molly escapes.

Natasha breaks the ice. "So I understand you're desperate for sex."

Albert nods. "Yes, I am in a bit of a jam."

"How much time to we have?"

"I'll be twenty-one in November."

Later that day, after the Blooms and Smith depart for the trip back to Beauneville, Roderick works quietly at his desk. Outside, there is a furious thunderstorm.

Someone knocks on his door. He answers; it's Emily Scharf, looking fetching in a revealing nightgown. She pushes inside.

"Roderick, can I sleep with you, I'm afraid of the thunder."

"Um, OK." Hopefully, Megan took a sleeping pill.

Promptly, Emily's nightgown drops to the floor. "Do you mind if I sleep like this? It relaxes me." By like this, Emily means completely nude.

"Um, no. I was about to go to bed myself." Roderick turns off the light and slips under the covers with Emily.

Suddenly, there is a lightning flash, followed closely by a clap of thunder. Emily snuggles closer. "Ooooh, I'm afraid," she coos.

Roderick ponders whether Emily is girlfriend number three. Not officially, of course.

Natasha Likes Artistic Men

Birds twerping outside the window. Saturday morning, Mr. Smith awakes in a strange bed. He looks around. Oh, right; the Old Ivy Inn. There is a lump on the other side of the bed consisting of the hibernating Mrs. Smith buried in covers. Letting her snooze, he pads over to the window and peers out.

The Old Ivy Inn occupies a grand Victorian house across the road from Old Ivy College and adjacent to the equally grand but otherwise unmarked Victorian house that insiders know to be the domicile of Cyathos et Gladios. Last night, the Smiths and the Blooms drove up from Beauneville to see Molly and Roderick, who joined them for dinner last night together with Megan and Anna. They dined at a table for eleven in the Old Ivy Inn's Main Dining Room. (Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty attended, but did not require chairs). Beef stew was served, with dumplings.

Meanwhile, while Mr. Smith gazes out the window and fondly remembers last night's beef stew with dumplings, Roderick, Molly, Megan, Anna and Natasha all gather in the Old Ivy Dining Hall for breakfast. They fill their plates and sit at a round table overlooking the Quad.

Anna is curious about Molly's modeling session with Albert yesterday. "How did it go?"

"Meh," says Molly. "We didn't get anything done."

"Oh, how come?"

"He didn't want to sketch, he just wanted to have sex with me."

Anna is wide-eyed. "Really?"

"Yes," says Molly, a little petulantly. "There I was in his room, completely nude, and there he was, also completely nude because he's more comfortable working that way, but he didn't want to work, he wanted to have sex with me."

Megan sprays coffee. "Men can be such pigs!"

"Oh, I don't mean it that way," says Molly, kindly. "He's really very nice. I'd like to help him, because he's in a jam."

"What sort of jam?"

"He's almost twenty-one, and if he doesn't have sex before his twenty-first birthday he will never have sex ever. It's a rule."

Anna looks puzzled. "I never heard about that rule."

"It's an unwritten rule."

Megan giggles. "Rodrigo told me it was sixteen..."

"Was he born on leapyear?" inquires Roderick, brightly, figuring that an oblique reference to a plot device from The Pirates of Penzance will brighten everyone's day. Nobody gets it, though, so he takes another bite of scrapple.

Anna smiles. "We should introduce him to Emily Scharf."

"No, that won't work. She only digs guys who sing and trust me, Albert can't sing." Molly attempts to mimic Albert singing Mime's first lines from Act One of Siegfried, but she just can't do it.

All are silent, thinking.

Molly continues. "I gave him my father's business card and suggested he consider my sister Mary. But her asking price is way too high, he can't afford it."

Anna looks genuinely distressed. "How sad."

Roderick muses. "So I guess if we want to help him we need to introduce him to some girl who is really desperate."

Molly nods. "Or so completely undiscriminating that she will have sex with just about anyone."

"Right."

Megan, who is checking her text messages and not really listening, looks up when she realizes that everyone is looking at her. "What?"

"We'd like to introduce you to someone."

"Not me!" cries Megan. "I'm Roderick's second girlfriend."

Molly slaps her forehead. "Oh, that's right. Sorry."

Silence again, while everyone ponders what to do about Albert.

Natasha interrupts. "I like artistic men."

The Unwritten Rule

Friday morning: on the way to the Dining Hall for breakfast, Roderick passes Lily Chang, who is on her way to a lecture. Wordlessly, they exchange the knowing satisfied glance of those who belong to Cyathos et Gladios.

In the Dining Room, Megan, Natasha and Anna chat over breakfast. After filling his plate with scrapple and applesauce, Roderick joins them.

Megan, sitting to his left, noodges him. "Are you coming home with me this weekend?"

Roderick takes a bite of scrapple. "No, Mom and Dad and the Blooms are coming up this weekend for a change."

Anna, seated across from Roderick and next to Natasha, inquires of the latter: "How are you settling in?"

"OK, I guess," sighs Natasha. "Moving is so much work."

"Yes," says Roderick. "Your driver had so many boxes to carry."

"Really!" groans Natasha, head in hands. "I'm tired just thinking about it!"

Anna, ever the lady, inquires: "And how are Felix and Fanny?"

"Oh crap!" cries Natasha. "I forgot to Skype them!" She rushes off, leaving her tray for someone else to clean up.

After breakfast, Roderick goes looking for Mr. Strnk, who is once again not in his office.

Mr. Ingres' Human Life class is finished for the day, and Molly dresses. Albert approaches.

"Um....Molly?"

"Yes," she says, pulling on her pants.

"Um...I was wondering if you could come to my room and model again."

Molly pulls a t-shirt over her head. "What time?"

"Three."

"OK."

At three o'clock, Molly knocks on Albert's door. He opens. "Hi, come on in."

Molly enters and immediately removes her t-shirt and jeans. "Where do you want me to pose?" she asks.

"Um...over there." Albert points to the bed. Molly stretches out in her favorite Odalisque-ish manner. Mentally, she's elswhere, thinking of a video Roderick sent to her, with some girl playing one of her favorite Beethoven scherzi. The girl even looks a little like Molly from a distance.

"What?" Molly's reverie ends as Albert sits down on the bed and puts a hand on her unclothed hip. She sits up and looks at him curiously.

"Um, I was thinking...you know...that we could..."

"I don't understand how you want me to pose."

"Well...I thought maybe before sketching we could...you know..."

"What?"

"You know, you and me..."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, exactly!"

"No."

"Oh." Albert looks disappointed.

"You look disappointed."

"I thought girls who model in Human Life class are easy."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means that you're willing to have sex with anyone who asks."

"And you figured that since we're both here in your room completely nude that if you simply asked me for sex I would say yes."

"That's right."

"But you never actually asked."

Albert brightens. "Oh, OK. Would you like to have sex with me?"

"No." Molly has thought a little bit about sex lately and she figures she will have sex at some point in the future, but she doesn't want her "first" to be pity sex. Also she has a pledge with Roderick which she will keep no matter what.

Albert puts his head in his hands. "Now I'm in a fix!" he moans.

Molly may seem cold, but secretly she sympathizes with every creature, including animals. Some animals, anyway. Cute ones, like rabbits and cats. Dogs, too. And horses, Molly definitely likes horses. Not bugs, though. Bugs are gross.

She pats Albert on the head. "What sort of fix?"

"I'm almost twenty-one," he wails. "It's a rule -- if a guy doesn't have sex before he's twenty-one, he will never have sex ever. I'm running out of time."

"I never heard of that rule."

"It's an unwritten rule."

"Have you spoken with Emily Scharf? I've heard her standards are pretty low."

Albert shakes his head. "She only digs guys who sing, and I can't carry a tune." He demonstrates, by attempting to sing Mime's opening lines from Act One of Siegfried. Molly winces.

Silence.

Molly has an idea. "If you have cash, you can try my sister. She's coming to campus this weekend." She ruffles around in her backpack and pulls out one of Mr. Bloom's business cards. "But first you have to talk to my Dad."

"Why do I have to talk to your Dad?"

"He's her pimp, silly." Molly dresses and departs.

That evening, in bed, Roderick snuggles close to Molly. "How was your day?" he whispers.

"It was OK. Albert wanted to have sex with me."

"That's not surprising."

"I'll tell you more tomorrow."

Roderick puts his arm around Molly and buries his nose in her hair. She is very warm and smells good.

Cyathos et Gladios

Once admitted to Cyathos et Gladios, there is no exit other than death; all memberships are life memberships. There is only one way to enter: in October, each student member brings one prospective member to the first meeting. Once the prospect crosses the threshold of the House, membership attaches and cannot be revoked by either party.

Student members seeking new members pose a single question: "Cyathos et Gladios, yes or no?". "Yes" is the only acceptable response. Here is a sample of unacceptable responses:

"No."
"What?"
Wordless penetrating stare.
"What's Cyathos et Gladios?"
"I'd like to think about it"

In the world of Cyathos et Gladios, there are two kinds of people: those who belong, and those who do not belong. There are several kinds of people who do not belong, including those who will never be asked and those who are asked but fail to respond in the affirmative. But the distinctions among various types of non-belongers is trivial; for members, it is simply "us" and "those people."

What kind of people belong to Cyathos et Gladios? It's a secret organization, so it's hard to say precisely, but we can draw inferences by how members are selected. Consider the following exchange that took place two days ago, near the fireplace in Old Ivy's Founders Hall. David Overguard, a third year student and life member, approached Benton Micklethwhaite, a first year student.

David offered the standard challenge: "Cyathos et Gladios, yes or no?"

Benton looked up from his Blackberry. "Dude, what?"

Benton Micklethwaite is not Cyathos et Gladios material.

A few minutes later, David spotted Rose Gharden standing near the patio. He bounded to her side and challenged: "Cyathos et Gladios, yes or no?"

Rose, a sixth-generation Old Ivy student, was ready. "Yes!" She was so thrilled that she ran back to her room and called her parents, then played with sex toys.

One more example: yesterday, Barton Fig approached Wendy Forkelsen with the standard challenge: "Cyathos et Gladios, yes or no?"

"Yes!" Wendy has never heard of Cyathos et Gladios, but is well known in her hometown for her willingness to say "yes" to anything.

Thus, Cyathos et Gladios is comprised of the very well-networked and the very adventurous.

Why did Lily Chang invite Roderick to join? There may be many reasons.

For example, Lily may know that Roderick's father and grandfather are members.

Alternatively, she may just want to get into Roderick's pants. If you know Lily, you will agree that this is very plausible.

It's also possible that Lily's father wants to roll out Stars and Stripes, the All-American Ale to the greater Beauneville market, and asked Lily to invite a native Beaunevillean to join.

Since it's a secret society, we will never know.

Last night, Anna saw Roderick climb the porch steps of a beautiful Victorian home across the street from the Old Ivy Quad. She saw him open the door and cross the threshold.

What happened next is a secret.

An hour later, Roderick joined Anna in the St. Cecilia Chapel to rehearse Bach's Cantata BWV 136, Erforsch Mich, Gott und Erfahre Mein Herz. After that, he returned to his room, where Megan joined him to work on Logic.

Megan slept over because she was afraid to walk back to her room so late at night. First, she checked with Roderick to see if he minded her sleeping in the nude, since she is much more comfortable that way.

Roderick didn't mind.

This morning, she's still there.

Lily from Minneapolis

Roderick sits by himself in the Dining Hall. Molly got up early to go and practice, and he thinks Megan and Anna have classes.

A little news. Natasha plans to move in to her room later today; her parents got her into one of the nicer suites on the second floor of East Quad. The babies will remain in Beauneville with Mrs. Pampers.

An Asian girl Roderick has seen around campus -- he thinks she's a second or third year student -- puts her tray on the table next to him. "OK if I sit here?" she asks.

Roderick nods. She sits.

"You're Roderick Smith, aren't you?" she queries.

Roderick nods again, surprised that she knows his name.

"I'm Lily Chang." She offers her hand to shake hands, which Roderick accepts while checking her out. Lily is a strikingly good-looking girl, with longish black hair tied back in a single French braid. She wears boots, a tight plaid skirt and an armless blouse that reveals she is surprisingly buxom for an Asian girl.

"You're surprisingly buxom for an Asian girl" says Roderick, with his customary reserve.

"I'm from Minneapolis. Daddy owns the local distributorship of Stars and Stripes Pale Ale."

Ah, Stars and Stripes, the Great American Pale Ale, bottled in Shanghai, shipped around the world and marketed as fresh. Stars and Stripes is best known for its Smelly Underwear brand Mint-Chocolately-Chip One Hundred Twenty Minute India Pale Ale, winner of Snoot Magazine's most recent Snoot award for the snootiest brew.

But Roderick is slightly confused by Lily's use of "from Minneapolis" as an explanation for her buxomness. Are women from Minneapolis inherently more buxom than other women? Something in the air, perhaps? Roderick thinks he would like to go to Minneapolis, because he likes buxom women, but he also likes Molly who is not overly buxom. Sometimes life is a muddle.

Roderick soldiers on. "I've never been to Minneapolis."

"It's a nice place, you should come home with me some time."

"Do you have a Tiger Mom?"

"No, Mom and Dad pretty much let me do as I pleased when I was growing up. They offered to send me to Suzuki Violin and Mandarin language classes, but I told them I wanted to watch TV and hang out with Negroes and they were cool with that."

Roderick muses that there is some fine programming on television, and that Negroes have many redeeming qualities.

"But let's get down to business. Cyathos et Gladios: yes or no?"

Ah, Cyathos et Gladios, the secret society of Old Ivy. Roderick had heard if this from his Dad, who was also a member. An Old Ivy student has just one chance to join, which he must accept on the spot or forever live in the wilderness. How students are selected for membership is not known; it is, after all, a secret society.

"Yes."

"Tonight. Six o'clock. Don't be late." With that, Lily is off. Roderick watches her carry her tray to the tray disposal thingy and observes that in addition to being surprisingly buxom for an Asian girl she has a lovely bottom. He wonders if this, too has something to do with Minneapolis.

Part of the Human Figure

Mr. Ingres' Human Figure class is done for the day. Molly pulls on her jeans; no underwear. She puts one arm into her flannel shirt, then the other sleeve, buttons the top button and then the rest from top to bottom.

"It's Molly, right?" She looks up. It's Albert, from the Dining Hall the other day.

"Yes?"

"Um, I was wondering...would you model for me privately?"

"I'm kind of tied up right now."

"Not now, later. I was thinking this evening, around seven."

"OK, where?"

"In my room."

"You paint in your room?"

"It's a nice room."

"OK." Molly is pleased that so many young men are interested in drawing the human figure.

Meanwhile, Roderick and Megan sit together in his room. Roderick works on Logic and Megan daydreams.

"I want to tell you something" says Roderick.

"What's that?"

"Molly and I have announced that we are officially a couple."

"That's wonderful news!" Megan hugs him.

"You're not upset?"

"Upset? Of course not. Why would I be upset?"

"Because you said you wanted to be my girlfriend."

"I am your girlfriend. Just because Molly is your girlfriend doesn't mean I can't be your girlfriend, too. Molly's your first girlfriend and I'm your second girlfriend."

"Oh." Roderick has to admit, Megan's logic is impeccable, but he can't help feeling that perhaps she has overlooked something. An interesting question to ponder, though...exactly how many girlfriends can one have? Is there some limit? For the moment, Roderick decides that there is a limit, somewhere around seven.

Megan gathers up her stuff. "I have to head over to Literature Workshop." She hugs Roderick again, pressing her ample breasts against Roderick's chest. "Now hurry up and do it with Molly, so you can do it with me."

At lunchtime, Molly sits with Roderick, Anna and Megan. "One of the art students asked me to model for him privately."

Always on the prowl for something potentially salacious, Megan is curious: "Really? Who? Where?"

"Albert. He sat with us the other day at breakfast."

Roderick remembers. "He had drawings of you in his notebook. Nice renderings, but the shading and form need work."

"Right, that's the guy."

"He wants to get into your pants." Megan, with her sharp eye for human motivation, cuts to the quick of things.

Molly frowns. "I'm not quite sure what you mean. Are you saying he's dishonest?"

Megan backtracks. "No, of course not." Beaunevillians do not accuse others of dishonesty without clear evidence; Megan may be slightly crazy and a bit of a slut but she is, at heart, a Beaunevillian. "It just struck me that he was curiously interested in your private parts."

"And why shouldn't he be interested in my private parts?" sniffs Molly. "It's all part of the Human Figure."

Megan really has no response to this, since she is also interested in private parts.

At seven that evening, Molly knocks on Albert's door. He opens. "Oh, hi, come on in."

"Where is your easel?" asks Molly as she steps in to Albert's room.

"Oh, we're just sketching today." Albert waves his sketchpad.

"OK." Molly sheds her clothing. "Where do you want me to pose?"

"Why don't you relax on the bed there."

Molly pushes her waist-length hair back over her shoulders and stretches out on the bed in Odalisque fashion, then sits up again. "What are you doing?"

Albert is in the process of shedding his clothes. "I'm more comfortable sketching without my clothes."

"Oh, OK. Molly relaxes again on the bed. She totally understands why people are more comfortable doing things while naked.

Later that evening, Roderick snuggles with Molly under the comforter in his room. "How was your session with Albert?"

"It was OK", says Molly, clutching Roderick's arm. "Maybe a little creepy."

"Did he hit on you?"

"No, but still..." She turns to Roderick and kisses him. Roderick kisses back. They snuggle.

Just Blow Their Heads Off

It's two weeks into the term, so let's recap what everyone is taking.

Roderick, Molly, Megan, Anna and a host of other first-year students take Logic with Mr. Spinoza, Rhetoric with Mr. McLuhan and Mathematics with Mr. Heytesbury. There is no "tracking", no credit for Advanced Placement or International Baccalaureate (the more mention of which is grounds for immediate expulsion). There is no requirement to attend these classes, but first year students at Old Ivy understand that it is in their best interest to do so if they want to pass the exams.

Mr. Gelehrte, President of the College, aptly expressed the Old Ivy perspective in his remarks at Convocation: "Here, you are all equally ignorant."

Zack Hagen, Emily Scharf and Candy Whistlethorne are all second year students who take the more advanced classes in Logic, Rhetoric and Mathematics.

Among the first year students, the differences are in the electives and extracurricular activities.

Roderick takes Mr. Rothschild's class in the History of Banking and Finance. It's a small class, and he's enjoying it very much. They've covered banking in Antiquity through the Roman era and the decline of banking subsequent to the rise of Christianity and its ban on lending at interest. Those who are inclined towards broad general theories of history might well attribute the Fall of Rome to the decline of Rome's banking institutions. Roderick is not so inclined, but he thinks it's interesting nevertheless.

He still can't find Mr. Strnk.

Molly dropped Mr. Manzoni's Italian class, as did most of the other Music students. It turns out that students need only a smattering of Italian to pass the Music exams. For example, a prospective graduate needs to know the difference between Allegro Scorrevole and Andante Ma Non Troppo, lest they play a piece at the wrong tempo.

For the Opera part of the exam, a student needs to answer questions like this:

In Act One of Le Nozze di Figaro, Susannah sings the following lines:

Così se il mattino
il caro Contino,
din din; e ti manda
tre miglia lontan,
don don; a mia porta
il diavol lo porta,
ed ecco in tre salti ...

What does she mean?

The answer, of course, is that Susannah is telling Figaro that it's a bad idea to have a bedroom next to Count Almaviva because he will rape her repeatedly and with abandon. But a student can muddle through the exam simply by learning the plots of major operas and a few words of the arias. Anna offered to teach Molly basic Italian, so...good-bye Mr. Manzoni.

Instead, Molly takes basic Counterpoint with Mr. Firmus. Anna's in the class, too. She's helping Molly catch up, since she studied some Counterpoint at Ecole Vevey and "gets it" more quickly than Molly.

Molly and Anna also have their private music lessons, plus coaching in Lieder.

Megan takes the Literature Workshop with Miss Joyce, where aspiring young writers sit around, read their work aloud and pretend to listen to the other students.

So much for electives. Turning to extracurricular activities, we start with Roderick who, as you know, as invited into the Bach Chorale but isn't sure if he wants to stay. He definitely plans to join the Chamber Orchestra.

Anna is sure she wants to be in the Bach Chorale and the College Chorus as well.

Megan joined the Gun Club and the Women's Club, where she is organizing the annual anti-rape fair (this year's theme: Just Blow Their Heads Off).

Molly, of course, models in Human Figure class. This isn't exactly an extracurricular activity -- it's a job that pays her tuition. But whatever.

A Little Announcement

The Old Ivy Bach Chorale performs every Sunday in St. Cecelia Chapel just off the Quad. Students at Old Ivy come from diverse faiths; from the Church of Nothing, the Church of Anything and the Church of Whatever, as well as more orthodox faiths such as the Unitarians. Not wishing to rekindle religious wars, the Founders dedicated the Chapel to St. Cecelia, patron saint of music, arguing that while people may not agree about eschatology or transubstantiation, everyone likes a good tune.

Mr. Mendelssohn likes to say that the Chapel's music program reflects all the religious traditions and cultures of the world, "as long as it's J.S.Bach." The weekly program follows a standard format appropriate for the Liturgical calendar. Mr. Pipes, college organist, opens with a Bach Chorale Prelude played on the Chapel's grand Hook and Hastings pipe organ, gifted to the college by August Beaune and dedicated on the first Sunday of Advent, 1878. Immediately following the Prelude, the Bach Chorale performs a cantata, motet or Mass, after which a member of the college community offers a brief inspirational sermon. Services close with another performance on the organ.

Today is the seventh Sunday of Trinity. Mr. Pipes opens with a selection from Bach's Orgelbuchlein, the inspiring Alle Menschen Müssen Sterben ('All Men Must Die'). Next, Mr. Mendelssohn steps to the podium and the Bach Chorale -- minus Anna and Roderick -- performs the cantata BWV 54Widerstehe doch der Sünde ('Resist Sin'), during which Zack Hagen's hand rests firmly on Emily Scharf's buttocks.

Mr. Shrink of the Psychology department offers today's inspirational message, the title of which is Nobody Cares About Your Sexual Orientation, So Shut Up About It Already.

Mr. Pipes closes with the closing movement of Bach's Trio Sonata BWV 525 in E-flat major.

Meanwhile, in Beauneville, Roderick and Mr. Smith sit on the front porch after breakfast. It's a clear, crisp Fall day. The leaves have turned color, but are still on the trees.

Mr. Smith inquires about Roderick's social life at school.

"It's fine, but a little different from Latin." Roderick refers, of course, to Beauneville Latin.

"How so?"

"Well...the women are kind of aggressive, if you know what I mean." Roderick tells his Dad about Emily Scharf.

Mr. Smith chuckles. "Yes, I see what you mean."

"And that's not all." Roderick tells Mr. Smith what Zack and Dr. Cuspid told him about women desiring men who sing.

"Yes, that's true," says Mr. Smith. "It's biological."

"They also say that girls who pose in the nude for Human Figure class are pushovers."

"And you're thinking about Molly."

"Right."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about with Molly. If my instincts are correct, she's hot for exactly one person, and that's you."

"Thanks, Dad."

"When did you start singing."

"I was kind of dragged into it. Actually, I'd rather play the clarinet."

"Don't let people suck you into stuff your'e not interested in doing. Stick to what you like and you'll go far in life."

"Thanks again, Dad."

Later, Roderick and Anna are eating Sunday supper with the Blooms. Mr. and Mrs. Bloom sit at each end of the table; Roderick, Molly and Anna sit on one side of the table in that order, and Mary, Margaret and Catherine on the other side. Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty take their usual positions underneath Catherine's chair.

"I'm having a nice day," says Catherine. Everyone ignores her except Mr. Fuzzums, who is a good listener.

Everyone joins hands and Mary, dressed in her "Sexy Maid" outfit, says grace. "Bless this Tofu Surprise, O Nothing, and Mommy who made it and protect us from sexually-transmitted diseases and unwanted pregnancy. Amen."

"Amen!" says everyone except Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty, who prefer to communicate in other ways.

Molly clears her throat. "Roderick and I have a little announcement to make."

"There's a clinic in Stapleton for that," says Mary. "I have the number."

"We're now officially boyfriend and girlfriend," says Molly shyly.

"Try not to get pregnant, dear," says Mrs. Bloom between bites.

Mr. Bloom slaps Roderick on the back. "Congratulations, son! It's about time you started banging her!"

Roderick wants to say that sexual intercourse remains in the future, but just smiles.

On the way back to Old Ivy, Roderick and Molly sit in the back seat again and hold hands. They look at each other and smile.

Miss Pearly's Preferences

In the back seat of Megan's Mustang, Roderick holds Molly's hand as they return to Beauneville. Anna sits up front and chats with Megan, who pretends to make small talk but really wants to know details of what goes on behind closed doors at Ecole Vevey.

Earlier this morning, Roderick and Molly discussed whether or not they should "come out" as a couple. The discussion went like this:

"Should we 'come out' as a couple? You know, boyfriend and girlfriend.."

Molly squeezed Roderick. "That sounds nice."

And so they decided to 'come out' as a couple. But when? And how? To be determined...

Meanwhile, Roderick has an appointment for a cleaning with Dr. Cuspid, the dentist. After a short wait the hygienist, Miss Pearly, ushers him into the chair. He relaxes while she pulls his file, checks his x-rays and fiddles with her tools.

"OK, let's get started," says Miss Pearly. She leans forward, and Roderick opens wide; she picks away at his teeth, pausing now and then to look at the x-ray.

"So how do you like Old Ivy?" she chirps.

"Unnggggh ungh unghhhh". By his facial expression, Roderick says that Old Ivy is fine.

"I graduated from there two years ago."

"Unnnnngggghhhh?" Roderick tries to say "Really?"

"Yes, I loved it. I sang in the College Choir and the Bach Chorale. Loved it. Mr. Mendelssohn is a wonderful conductor."

Roderick thinks this is interesting. He wonders if Miss Pearly is like the other women who sing.

"I sing alto."

So much for that. Fortunately, Beauneville, like Old Ivy College, is a safe place for altos.

Miss Pearly finishes and kindly Dr. Cuspid enters the examination room, shakes Roderick's hand, picks up the x-ray and squints at it.

"So how do you like Old Ivy?" he queries.

"Oh, I like it a lot," says Roderick.

"I loved it there. Best place to go to school anywhere. But I'll give you a tip, though -- if you want women to throw themselves at you, join the chorus. Women are irresistibly attracted to men who sing."

"Thanks for the tip."

Dr. Cuspid checks to see that Miss Pearly is out of earshot, then whispers. "But don't bother with the altos. And if you really want to score, hit on the girls who model for Human Figure class. Total pushovers."

Later in the afternoon, Roderick, Molly and Anna go over to Natasha's studio. Continuing her work in the style of the Dusseldorf School, Natasha wants Molly to pose in the manner of Karl Ferdinand Sohn's Mathilde Wesendonck, except without clothing. Molly readily agrees, sheds clothing and strikes the pose. Natasha sketches while Roderick and Anna chat about stuff.

Roderick's cell phone rings. He doesn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Hi, Roderick, it's Emily."

Roderick searches his memory. Emily, Emily, Emily....oh yes, from Bach Chorale. He affects his cool alpha male demeanor. "Hi, how're ya doing?"

"Want to come over and see me?"

"Well, um, I can't right now."

"It's just me here, by myself, and I'm not wearing anything."

"I'm glad that you're comfortable."

"I just put my hand between my legs."

Roderick is beginning to wonder where this call is going. "It's good that you have some privacy."

"Now my hand is wet."

"I understand that's natural."

"I really want you to come over."

"Maybe another time." Roderick explains that he is in Beauneville right now and can't simply pop over, but perhaps he can take a raincheck. He hangs up.

"Who was that?" asks Anna.

"Emily from Bach Chorale, just calling to tell me what she's doing this evening."

"All of the sopranos were talking about you the other night. You've caught their eye."

"And you?"

Anna flushes. Knowing that Roderick sings, she can hardly keep her hands off him. But she learned well at Ecole Vevey to communicate elliptically. "Well...."

Natasha finishes sketching and Molly returns to her clothes. Roderick, Molly and Anna say goodbye to Natasha and walk back to the Smith's house, where Anna will sleep in the guest room and Molly will sleep with Roderick.

Cuddling under the comforter, Roderick squeezes Molly. "Did you know that Miss Pearly at the dentist's office sings alto?"

Molly turns to face him. "No, that can't be true. I saw her in church last week with a man."

"That was her cousin Bogart." Bogart is well-known in the local community for his lack of table manners.

"Oh." Molly is silent for a moment. "Well, I guess you just can't tell sometimes."

Roderick nods. "Yup. But hey...whatever floats your boat, right?"

Molly stares off into the moonlit room for awhile. Wow. Miss Pearly an alto. Who would think? Mary will love this story.

Human Figure Girls Are Easy

Friday morning: Molly slips out of Roderick's room early so she can get some quality time with the Bosendorfer.

A little while later, there is a knock on the door. Roderick rises sleepily, dons his bathrobe and opens the door. It's perky and pert Emily Scharf; today, her long brown pigtails are beribboned in pink. Emily launches herself into Roderick's arms with an extended smooch, murmuring "you make me so hot, I want you to do me right now."

Fortunately, Emily is quite a bit shorter than Roderick and about a hundred pounds lighter, so Roderick catches her and manages to hold on so that the two of them do not collapse in a heap.

"Um, I think I'd like to get some breakfast", says Roderick, setting Emily down gently and deftly exchanging his pants for his pajamas without removing his bathrobe.

"Oh, can I come with you?" begs Emily, as she helps him button his white oxford button-down shirt. Gosh, she thinks to herself. He sings, he knows logic and he wears white oxford button-down shirts.

"OK", says Roderick. They walk to the Dining Hall, where Roderick fills his plate with scrapple and applesauce. He spies Anna sitting by herself and, trailing Emily, carries his plate over to Anna's table and sits down. "Anna, do you know Emily from Chorale?"

Anna waves. "Hi."

Emily waves back. "Hi."

"So you're joining the Chorale?" says Anna to Roderick.

"Yes, I think so."

Anna smiles. "I didn't know that you sing, too." Odd. She feels strangely attracted to Roderick.

Roderick continues to eat his scrapple and applesauce.

After Rhetoric class, Roderick bumps into Zack Hagen, from Chorale. "Hey, it's me, Roderick!"

"Hey, Roderick!"

They exchange the secret handshake of men who sing in the Bach Chorale, then chat about stuff.

"Do you like singing in the Chorale?" asks Roderick.

Zack shrugs. "It's not about the singing, it's about the nookie."

"The nookie?"

"Yes. Ever notice how women get really horny when they sing in chorale?"

Frankly, Roderick has never noticed any such thing, but being a true son of Beauneville he doesn't want to openly disagree. "Um...sure."

"So do the math. There's a couple of dozen of them and only three of us. That spells d-e-s-p-a-r-a-t-i-o-n. Plus, once the women who aren't in Chorale see other women chasing you, they will want to join the hunt. Stay in Chorale and women will line up at your door."

At this moment Candy Whistlethorne passes in the hallway. "Hi, Zack", she coos. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Roderick, Candy. Candy, Roderick."

Candy steps closer to Roderick. "I'm so glad you've joined the Chorale" she whispers, tracing her left hand along Roderick's arm. She departs.

Zack smirks. "She's ready to have your baby."

Roderick is flattered, but he isn't sure he wants a baby just yet. He feels he has learned an important lesson about College Life. "I had no idea that Chorale girls are easy."

"But you know who's really easy? The girls who model in Human Figure class. Total pushovers. I took painting last year and I tell you it was a party. Think about it! A girl who is willing to display her pink bits in front of a bunch of guys isn't going to say no."

Well this is a stunner, thinks Roderick.

Later that evening, Molly comes over and, per usual sheds her clothing. In the darkness, they cuddle.

"My friend Zack says that girls who model in Human Figure class are easy", says Roderick.

"What does that mean?" whispers Molly.

"I'm not sure," says Roderick.

Molly kisses him for a very long time, longer than ever before.

Possession is Nine Tenths of the Law

Perky, pert and pig-tailed, Emily Scharf is on the prowl. She spies Roderick in the Dining Hall, circles twice and lands in the seat to his immediate right.

"Um, I know this might seem a little awkward" she coos, "but I've been watching you and..well, I just think you're really hot and is it OK if I sit here?"

Roderick, midway through a drink of milk, keeps drinking. Megan, sitting on the other side of Roderick, leans forward. "I'm Megan and I'm his girlfriend."

Anna, sitting across from Roderick, looks puzzled. She nudges Molly seated to her right and whispers "Megan and Roderick? They are together? But I thought you..."

Molly just smiles.

Emily continues. "So, um, I was wondering if you would be my date at the Bach Chorale meeting tonight and afterwards maybe...you know..."

Roderick swallows. "Um...OK."

Emily is thrilled. "Ooooh...I could just kiss you!"

"Be careful," whispers Roderick, gesturing to Megan. "She's packing."

Emily departs just as a young man arrives at the table. "Excuse me, may I join you?" There is no objection, and he does so.

"My name's Albert, I'm studying painting."

There are introductions all around: Roderick...Megan...Anna...Molly.

"You're Venus, aren't you?" says Albert to Molly. "From Human Figure class?"

Molly nods. Albert rummages through his backpack, emerges with a sketchpad and leafs through it to a quite detailed drawing of Molly, nude, which he passes around for all to admire.

"You have a lovely figure" he says to Molly.

"Thank you."

"And perfect breasts."

"Thank you."

Roderick examines the drawing. "Very nice work" he comments, passing it to Megan.

On the way to Rhetoric class Megan whispers to Molly "I think he was hitting on you."

Molly shrugs. "They all do." She nudges Roderick and squeezes his arm.

Later that day, Roderick drops by the office of Mr. Strnk, who is again absent. Curious. The English department secretary sits nearby; he inquires.

"Have you seen Mr. Strnk?"

"No", she responds

"Is he on sabbatical or something?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Do you know when he'll be in his office?"

"No, you just have to keep trying."

At six forty-five, Roderick knocks on Emily's door. She opens, wearing a very low cut black long-sleeved sweater that shows ample boob. "Oh!" she says, "I've been thinking about this all day!"

Emily clings to Roderick's arm all the way to the Auditorium. On arrival, she pulls Roderick by the hand to the stage where members of the Chorale mill about, chatting. "Look everyone!" she announces. "I found a man!"

The members of the Chorale crowd around Roderick, greeting him. One of the sopranos wraps her arm around Roderick's neck and kisses him on the cheek, wetly. "Back off, Betsy!" Emily hisses. "I found him!"

Betsy, a tall brunette, shrugs. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law!" she says winking at Roderick. "Call me!" she whispers.

Mr. Mendelssohn greets Roderick effusively. "Welcome, young man, welcome. How much experience do you have singing bass?"

Roderick plays the clarinet rather well, but has never sung in his life. "I know how to read bass clef."

"Perfect!" beams Mr Mendelssohn. "You can join Zack and Fred over there. OK everyone! Sunday is the seventh Sunday of Trinity, so we will do Wer sich selbst erhöhet, der soll erniedriget werden...everyone have the music?"

After the rehearsal, Roderick walks Emily back to her room. "Won't you come in..?" she coos.

Roderick shakes his head. "Not tonight. I have some syllogisms to work on."

Emily squeezes herself. God, she thinks. He sings, and he knows logic.

"Okay", she says, touching him lightly. "I'm here when you're ready."

Later, Roderick curls up in bed with Molly. "How was the Chorale?" she whispers.

"It was OK".

"I think that girl Emily likes you."

Roderick smiles and squeezes Molly. "And Albert likes you."

"He just wants to draw me."

"You'd be surprised."

Molly squeezes Roderick's arm. It doesn't matter what others say and do. Roderick and Molly are together.

Candy Whistlethorne Never Sang So Well

In Human Figure class, Molly poses as Venus in Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. This pose is slightly awkward; she has to struggle to avoid falling over. Also, her hair isn’t quite long enough to cover her genitals as in the original, so she discreetly positions her left hand.

It’s chilly in the studio. Molly has goosebumps.

Meanwhile, Megan sits with Roderick in his room, working on syllogisms. Actually, Roderick works on syllogisms and Megan daydreams.

“Roderick?” she bleats.

“Yes, Megan?”

“When are you and Molly going to do it so you and I can do it without breaking your pledge?” Megan has high ethical standards, and wouldn't want Roderick to break a pledge.

“Um, I really don’t know. We don’t think about it that much.”

“It’s hard for me to wait.”

“I understand. Let’s finish these syllogisms.”

In the Auditorium, students gather for the first meeting of the year for the Old Ivy Bach Chorale. Anna arrives breathlessly – she had to run from her voice lesson with Mrs. Warbler; Mr. Mendelssohn, leader of the Chorale, enters the hall right behind her.

“Places, please!” he calls, and the students gather on the risers in groups according to voice -- sopranos, altos, tenors and basses. Befitting its name, the Bach Chorale exclusively performs the music of Bach, mostly cantatas and motets but also the occasional Mass or Passion. Mr. Mendelssohn likes to say that they could perform a Bach cantata every week for four years and not repeat one.

And so they do.

Mr. Mendelssohn takes a head count of voices. Ideally, he would like to have a balanced choir of six sopranos, six altos, four tenors and four basses. Men tend to have stronger voices than women, so he needs more sopranos and altos.

Of course, the students who turn out for Chorale never follow that distribution. This year, he counts thirty-six sopranos, three altos, one tenor and two basses.

There are various ways to treat this problem. First, he listens to each of the sopranos, including Anna. Some are simply awful; these, he sends to Glee Club. Some are very good, and Anna’s voice is enchanting. Mr. Mendelssohn asks Anna and about a dozen others to stay. All of the sopranos will attend biweekly rehearsals, and Mr. Mendelssohn will choose six who will perform in the concert.

Altos are a different challenge; some of the sopranos are really better suited to singing alto but are reluctant to “come out” as such, fearing the stigma and parental disapproval. Mr. Mendelssohn coaches these young women personally, assuring them he will never breathe a word to their parents, and that Bach Chorale is a safe place for altos. This is enough to get him to five. Mrs. Dowager from the Voice Department can step in and serve as the sixth, but in light of her ongoing weight problem and last year's unfortunate accident it may be necessary to strengthen the risers.

The men pose a completely different problem.

One effective draw, of course, is the promise of nookie. Female vocalists tend to be pushovers for men who sing, and Mr. Mendelssohn does nothing to dispel this perception; indeed, he encourages the young women to ply their charms on reluctant young men, enticing them to join the Chorale. The promise of pussy is enough to draw many a reluctant basso from the student body, although this works less well with the tenors. It certainly worked for Zack Hagen, a second-year student who presently stands on the risers with Fred, the other bass. Zack is well familiar with the side benefits of membership in the Bach Chorale, having recently sung Bach's motet Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied with his hand up Candy Whistlethorne’s skirt. Mr. Mendelssohn remarked after the concert that Candy never sang so well.

He addresses the women: “So, um, ladies, we have just the two basses so, uh, you know what to do.” And indeed they do. Over the next week or so, there will be many similar scenes on the Old Ivy campus; a young woman will cajole a young man to join the Chorale, pointing out the joys of music, the benefits of extracurricular activity and the possibility of a little something extra afterwards.

For the tenors, Mr. Mendelssohn just hires ringers.

Ach, Um Deine Feuchten Schwingen

Molly slept in Roderick's room last night after the drive back from Beauneville; this morning, she rises early and heads straight for the Bosendorfer in the Conservatory and starts right in on Beethoven's Diabelli Variations. She hasn't played the piece in awhile, and wants to see how much she remembers.

Roderick wants to see if he can finally get some face time with the elusive Mr. Strnk. But first, breakfast. In the Dining Hall, he fills his plate with scrapple and applesauce. Seeing Anna sitting by herself, he sits next to her.

"How did you like your weekend in our home town?"

"I liked it very much. It's a lovely town."

"Do you miss Milan?"

"Not so much. I've spent very little time there, actually. My parents sent me to Ecole Vevey when I was very young, and on school holidays I usually went to our place on Lago di Como."

"Lago di Como? Wow! That sounds nice."

"It's lovely."

"It must be hard for you to be away from your parents."

"You don't know my parents."

Roderick has to admit that he doesn't know Anna's parents and to be perfectly honest he doesn't really care to learn more about Anna's parents, but he wouldn't mind learning more about Anna because she is really lovely.

As they get up to leave the Dining Hall, Anna invites Roderick to come to the Conservatory this afternoon. "We're rehearsing a song by Fanny Mendelssohn, and I'd like you to hear us." She says.

"Sure!" says Roderick. "I'll be there."

Anna touches Roderick's arm lightly with her right hand. "It was very nice sitting with you this morning," she says. Roderick feels a thrill up his leg again.

Once again, the elusive Mr. Strnk is not in his office.

Meanwhile, in her room, Megan continues to write her novel.

Charlotte followed Bentley to the Library, where Lady Margaret stood waiting for her. Charlotte curtsied. "Milady," she said demurely.

Lady Margaret curtly acknowledges Charlotte's gesture with a wave. "Your father has indentured you to me in return for an ample income sufficient to preserve Puddleton Manor in your family name. You will now have the goodness to accompany me in my coach to Bilgeworth Hall, where you will serve as Lady-In-Waiting and attend to my needs.

Charlotte is aware of Lady Margaret's tastes, and has no illusion about what it means to "attend to her needs". Why is this happening to me? she thought. Was it the other night, with Rex? She had only used her "safe" word twice, but...perhaps he was displeased.

Promptly at four, Roderick knocks on the door to the Conservatory and enters. Inside, Molly sits at the Bosendorfer noodling around on the keyboard like she does when she's warming up, and Anna sings a scale.

Molly is happy to see him. "Sit right here," she says, pointing to one of the comfy armchairs. "We're about to start."

Anna finishes her scale, then stands close to the piano so she and Molly can have eye contact while they perform. She nods to Molly, and Molly launches the piano introduction. Anna breathes, then sings:

Ach, um deine feuchten Schwingen,
West, wie sehr ich dich beneide...

Roderick is smitten. Anna's voice, and everything else about her, is just gorgeous.

I Don't Remember Doing That

Natasha opens the door to her studio. It's Roderick, Molly, Megan and Anna. Her face brightens. "Roderick! Hi! What a nice surprise! Come in everybody!" Natasha hugs Roderick and Molly warmly, then shakes hands with Megan and Anna.

Roderick hasn't seen Natasha since she took time off from Beauneville Latin to have Felix and Fanny. Before she got pregnant, Natasha was a little zaftig, in a pleasing sort of way, but then she gained a lot of weight when she had the babies. Now, the extra weight is gone, and -- wow! She still has long jet black hair down to her buttocks, which are currently hidden because she's wearing pants, but would still be hidden if she were pantless thanks to that long hair.

The studio, which used to be a carriage house, is expensively furnished. Natasha invites everyone to sit down on two couches that face one another across a coffee table; Roderick occupies the center of one, with Molly and Megan on either side, while Natasha and Anna sit on the other couch.

"How are Felix and Fanny?", asks Molly.

"They're upstairs with Mrs. Pampers. Mom and Dad said it would help my career if I don't have to take care of babies all of the time. They also let me live here and I get an allowance and a car and driver. And Dad's paying to send me to Old Ivy. They're letting me matriculate late; I start next week."

"That's great news," says Roderick, and he means it. Natasha can be a little clingy sometimes and Lord knows he has no shortage of female attention, but there's always room for more on the Good Ship Roderick. Also, one look at Natasha is enough for him to know that he wouldn't at all mind hanging out like they used to do, as long as Megan doesn't get mad and shoot someone.

"How is Henry?" asks Molly.

Natasha screws up her face like people do when they reach into the refrigerator and emerge with something rotten. "Feh!" she says. "He's history." The Witherspoon family, it seems, persuaded Henry to turn his back on the Kulturpunks and go to school for tax accounting. "Tax accounting! Can you imagine throwing over me and the movement for that?" Natasha spits out the words "tax accounting" as if it were that rotten thing from the refrigerator.

Molly tries to empathize. "I guess he figured he needed to get a job and make money to support a family."

Roderick, too, wants to help. "After all, Ben Franklin said that nothing is certain in life except death and taxes."

These helpful comments are lost on Natasha. "So now I'm a struggling artist and single mom with two babies," she blubbers.

Roderick smiles. "Two babies and a nurse."

Natasha nods. "Yes, I'm fortunate to have a nurse."

"And a studio where you can live and work," adds Molly.

"Yes, that too."

"And a car and driver."

"Yes, a nurse, a studio and a car and driver."

"And an allowance."

"Yes, my parents are very generous."

"And a Dad who is rich enough to pay to get you into Old Ivy."

"Yes, that too."

From upstairs, there is the faint sound of a child crying. Natasha rolls her eyes and shouts "Pampers! Do something about that racket!"

Mrs. Pampers responds from upstairs. "Yes, Miss Natasha." The crying stops.

Natasha shakes her head in frustration. "Jeezus! What I have to put up with!"

Megan is curious. "Are you planning to bring the babies to Old Ivy?"

Natasha looks at Megan as if she's crazy. "God, no, that's what Pampers is for. I have to be free for my art. Speaking of which, I want you to see my latest." She stands and beckons the group to follow her to the far side of the studio, where a large painting stands covered with a cloth.

With a sweeping gesture, Natasha unveils the work. It is a very large and very detailed image of Molly, nude, reclining on a bed; the point of view is from her feet.

"Hmmm," says Roderick. "I see that you've abandoned the Pre-Raphaelites in favor of the Dusseldorf School."

Natasha seems thrilled that someone understands her work. "Yes, the Pre-Raphaelites are so un-Kulturpunk."

"I don't remember posing for this recently," says Molly.

Natasha smiles. "Pictures from the last session!"

Molly seems slightly disturbed. "I don't remember doing that." The that she refers to a certain way a girl might entertain herself when she has some privacy.

"Artistic license!" laughs Natasha in a manner that suggests she does that rather frequently.

Anna speaks soothingly to Molly. "It's a lovely painting."

Megan, who also does that whenever she can, suddenly understands the appeal of the visual arts.

In the evening, Megan, Roderick, Molly and Anna drive back to Old Ivy. Megan drives and Anna sits in the front passenger seat; Roderick and Molly sit in the back. While driving, Megan grills Anna; she wants to know if the girls at Ecole Vevey do that and other things. The conversation is a little disappointing to Megan, because even if things happen behind closed doors at Ecole Vevey, Anna isn't spilling the beans.

Molly's left hand touches the back seat. Roderick gently touches her hand with his and says "I've never seen you do that."

Molly just smiles.

Thunder and Lightning

Molly rises early Sunday morning and heads straight for the Bosendorfer, without pausing to dress. Seated naked at the piano, she works on her scales.

Anna joins her around nine. "Good morning, Molly!", she says with a smile.

Molly stops in mid-scale, which shows you that she likes Anna. Ordinarily, Molly would not stop in the middle of a scale if there were an earthquake, a tornado and a fire in the living room. "Did you sleep OK?" Anna nods. "Do you want me to get dressed before we start?"

"No, that's OK", says Anna. "It's good to be comfortable."

Molly thinks that she and Anna will get along just fine. This was a concern; she wasn't sure she liked the idea of working together with a vocalist. Molly is accustomed to playing solo, and sometimes with instrumentalists, but vocalists are supposed to be so temperamental. Anna, however, is lovely.

Molly is also accustomed to practicing while nude.

"OK, then," says Molly. "Let's begin." She plays the opening bar of the Fanny Mendelssohn song.

Anna listens, breathes, and begins to sing:

Ach, um deine feuchten Schwingen,
West, wie sehr ich dich beneide:
Denn du kannst ihm Kunde bringen
Was ich in der Trennung leide!

Molly stops. "Wow!" she says. "You have a great voice."

Anna blushes. "Thank you."

Meanwhile, Mary Bloom dresses in her long white dress, braids cornflowers into her hair, makes breakfast for the family, takes some food to Mrs. Peabody, and reads aloud from Elsie Dinsmore novels. At nine-thirty, the Blooms depart for the Church of Nothing, leaving Molly and Anna behind to practice.

Today's sermon at the Church of Nothing: "Speaking Out is for Losers, So Shut Up."

Later that afternoon, Roderick, Molly, Anna and Megan all sit at the dining room table with Mr. and Mrs. Smith. On the menu tonight: roast pork, applesauce, smashed potatoes and little green things.

"Yum, honey, delicious pork", says Mr. Smith, taking a second helping.

Mrs. Smith is curious. "Anna, are you related to the Zemlinskys here in Beauneville? They live right behind us next street over."

Anna smiles. "Mrs. Bloom asked me that, too. I don't know."

"They have a daughter your age...Roderick, what is her name?"

Roderick is working on a large piece of roast pork, which he swallows. "Natasha. Natasha Zemlinsky. She's an artist."

"That's right!" says Mrs. Smith. "Natasha."

"Also," says Roderick, "she's a Kulturpunk."

Anna noodges Molly, who sits to her right and whispers: "Excuse me...what is a Kulturpunk?"

Molly -- who is now fully clothed -- whispers back: "The Kulturpunks are a global movement of youth disaffected by their parents' bourgeois values, simple-minded commitment to pop culture and cheap leftism; they reject all that and, inspired by the life and work of Felix and Fanny Mendelssohn, pursue Bildung."

"Oh!" says Anna. "We didn't have such things at Ecole Vevey."

Now Megan is curious. "What is Ecole Vevey?"

"Where my parents sent me to school, in Switzerland. It's an all-girls boarding school."

Megan makes a mental note to discuss this further with Anna. For her novel, she needs source material on the kinky stuff that goes on at such places.

Dinner complete, Mrs. Smith stands up. "Roderick, why don't you and your friends drop in on Natasha tomorrow?"

"Good idea, Mom." There are no classes tomorrow, so Roderick, Molly, Megan and Anna plan to stay an extra night.

Molly and Anna depart for the Blooms just as a thunderstorm moves in.

Roderick says goodnight to Megan, who is staying over another night, retires to bed and reads for awhile, then turns out the light. The storm is a doozy -- thunder, lightning and pouring rain.

After a particularly loud crash of thunder, Roderick hears a knock on his bedroom door. Donning his bathrobe, he answers the knock. It's Megan, in her bathrobe, white as a sheet.

"I'm scared of lightning," she bleats. "Please -- can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Um -- OK."

Roderick returns to his bed, still wearing his bathrobe. Megan follows him to the bed and pauses. "Um...I'll feel more comfortable if I sleep naked, do you mind?"

"Um, no, that's fine."

The bathrobe slips to the floor and Megan slips into the bed. There is another loud clap of thunder. She cuddles close to Roderick.

The storm seems to die down a bit, but Roderick can still hear rain falling on the roof outside his window. He wonders if Megan is sleeping yet.

"Roderick?" Apparently not.

"Yes, Megan."

"Am I really your girlfriend?"

"Of course, Megan. Try to get some sleep."

That night, Roderick is sorely tempted to break his pledge to Molly. But he doesn't.

Catherine's New Best Friend

Birds chirping. Roderick awakes.

It's Saturday morning, and Roderick is at home in his bed. Molly invited Anna home with her, and they all drove home with Megan in her bright red Mustang. Anna stays with Molly at the Blooms, and Megan sleeps in the guest room with the Smiths.

Roderick tentatively reaches out with his foot and touches the floor. Eek, it's cold. Naked, he pads across the room to the closet and dons his bathrobe.

Knock, knock. It's Megan at the door, also in a bathrobe, a textbook in her hand. "Good morning, Roderick," she purrs. "Can I come in? I thought this would be a good time to go over Rhetoric."

Roderick thinks it's an excellent time to go over Rhetoric. He relaxes on the bed with his notebook and pencil. Megan starts to join him, pauses, looks up at the bookshelf and exclaims "Oh! What an interesting book! I want to look at it."

Megan reaches up to the top shelf for the coveted book; while doing so, her bathrobe falls open momentarily so that her unrestrained breasts are in full view, and also confirming something that Roderick has always wondered about, that redheads have red hair everywhere.

"Oops!" she says, giggling. "Wardrobe malfunction."

"I can see that," says Roderick dryly.

Meanwhile, at the Blooms, Mary Bloom wakes up early and makes pancakes, eggs and bacon for breakfast. The other Blooms -- Mr. and Mrs. Bloom, Molly, Margaret and Catherine (plus Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty), plus Anna Zemlinsky gather at the breakfast table and chit chat while Mary places two big platters of food on the table. As Mary takes her seat, Mr. Bloom reaches for the bacon with his fork.

"Daddy, wait a minute!", says Mary sternly. She reaches out her hands to either side, beckoning everyone at the table to join hands in a circle. Closing her eyes, she recites: "Bless this food, which we bought with our own money, and I cooked with my own hands, and let us eat so we can fill our bellies and sustain our daily work to make ourselves happy and have fun. Amen."

"Amen!" says everyone.

Mr. Bloom winks at Anna, who sits to his immediate right. "She's very religious", he whispers.

Mary beams. "I learned that at Young Virgins group." She glances at Anna. "Are you a virgin?"

Anna, her mouth full of pancakes, isn't sure how to respond. She still is, for the record, but is not accustomed to speaking about it openly at the breakfast table with the families of people she just met.

Mrs. Bloom saves her. "There is a Zemlinsky family here in Beauneville, are you related?"

Anna swallows, and smiles shyly. "I don't know. It's a common name."

Mr. Bloom chimes in. "Personally, I know of hundreds of Zemlinskys." He doesn't really, but he likes to agree with people, especially his eldest daughter's young blond friends.

"Daddy, can you set up some dates for me next week?" Last night Mary checked her cash flow and she is a little concerned. Miss Agassiz seems to be moving on -- Mary is seventeen now, and "Mistress Renee" prefers her fem subs to be underage. That cash cow looks to be tapped out, and Mary needs to diversify. Another reason: with Roderick off to college, Mary actually has to pay Willard Fenstermacher to write her History papers. It's shocking what the world has come to -- you have to pay people to do things that should be done in the spirit of love and generosity.

"Sure, honey, no problem." Henry Bloom is proud to pimp for his daughter, for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it teaches her the value of money, and the work ethic. Also, it's great for business, as the client list of Bloom and Co. has doubled in the past year. It's amazing, really. Advertising clients sign up in flocks when they can put a session with Mary the Schoolgirl on the expense account.

"Just make sure you're getting your homework done," says Mrs. Bloom.

"I will, Mommy."

After breakfast, Molly is anxious to hit the Bosendorfer. She's working with Anna on a recital of art songs based on texts by Goethe, and the first one -- Ach, um deine feuchten Schwingen, by Fanny Mendelssohn -- has a difficult piano part. Molly wants to be ready tomorrow when they rehearse together.

Anna wants to walk over to see Roderick, but doesn't know the way. Catherine offers to walk with her, and Anna gratefully accepts. Catherine grabs her backpack (with Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty), and they depart.

As they turn the corner from Cherry to Twelfth, Anna asks: "Who is that in your backpack?" Earlier, she saw Catherine furtively place her friends inside.

Catherine stops, pulls off her backpack, reaches in and offers Mr. Fuzzums to Anna. "It's Mr. Fuzzums!"

Anna takes Mr. Fuzzums and hugs him. "Oh what a lovely bear! But I believe that someone else is in your bag."

Furtively, Catherine shows the bag to Anna. "It's Miss Kitty. She doesn't like to come out of the bag around people she doesn't know."

"I have a friend back at college, too. Would you like to know his name?" Catherine nods. "It's a secret, so I'll whisper."

Anna whispers something in Catherine's ear. Catherine beams, and taking Anna's hand leads her new best friend to Roderick's house.

It Is So Nice To Meet You

Mr. Manzoni is not a bad teacher; back in Italy, he won a prize at the University of Florence for his remarkable lectures on Dante. There is a small problem, however; Mr. Manzoni speaks no English, which makes it difficult to communicate with Mr. Babel, head of the Foreign Languages department at Old Ivy, who speaks no Italian. Thus, it seems there is a misunderstanding; Mr. Manzoni is assigned to teach Elementary Italian (for students with no prior background in the language), but he thinks he's teaching Advanced Conversational Italian, for students with three to four years of study.

Today, Mr. Manzoni is on a roll. "Attenzione! Tutti in piedi! Il Canto degli Italiani!" he shouts, waving his hands wildly as the Italian national anthem plays on a cheap boom box.

The students -- of which the headcount is notably reduced from the first class, but still includes Molly -- stare at him uncomprehendingly.

"Tutti in piedi! Tutti in piedi!" Mr. Manzoni grows increasingly mad in his gestures. Molly has no idea what he's trying to say, but from gestures alone figures out that she's supposed to stand up.

Mr. Manzoni reads several names from a sheet of paper and each time is greeted with silence. It seems that some students dropped the course. Molly wonders how they will pass the Music exam and graduate.

"Bloom!" Molly snaps out of her wonderment and raises her hand. She knows better than to actually say something.

Mr. Manzoni picks up a book, flips through it to a bookmarked page, walks over to Molly and thrusts the book into her hands. Molly wrinkles her nose. He smells. Mr. Manzoni stabs the page with his pudgy, nicotine-stained finger. "Leggi!"

Molly looks at the book. It reads:

In su l'estremità d'un'alta ripa
che facevan gran pietre rotte in cerchio,
venimmo sopra più crudele stipa;
e quivi, per l'orribile soperchio
del puzzo che 'l profondo abisso gitta,
ci raccostammo, in dietro, ad un coperchio
d'un grand' avello, ov' io vidi una scritta
che dicea: "Anastasio papa guardo,
lo qual trasse Fotin de la via dritta."

She looks back at Mr. Manzoni. Understand this: in the karate dojo, Molly fearlessly faces down bigger and stronger opponents; at the keyboard, she plunges into the most difficult scores without blinking; in the studio, she stands naked before inquisitive artists without fear or shame. But here and now, alternating glances between the text and smelly Mr. Manzoni, she feels complete and utter dread.

"In...su...less...less...lesstrem..."

Mr. Manzoni explodes. "No! No! No! No! No! Pronuncia! Sputo!" He makes a spitting gesture, which Molly correctly interprets to mean extreme displeasure.

Meanwhile, in the Dining Hall, Roderick fills his tray with an early lunch. Exiting the line, he sees Anna Zemlinsky sitting by herself. He approaches.

"May I sit here?" he inquires.

Anna smiles. "Please!"

Roderick sits. "Where are you from?", he asks.

"Milano."

"Oh, in Italy." Anna nods and smiles. Roderick doesn't know anyone from Italy. In fact he doesn't know anyone from another country. Oh, wait-- there's Bibi, the gorgeous Swedish girl and her idiot brother. Also, Mr. Cupcake is from Slovenia or something.

"You speak perfect English."

"Thank you."

"You don't look Italian."

"What do Italians look like?"

Roderick searches his mental bank of stereotypes and settles on Sophia Loren. "Dark-haired and big breasted."

Anna makes a little movement with her upper body as if to say "You don't think these are big?" without actually saying it. Roderick gets the point.

"How did you learn to speak English so well?"

"Mama and Papa sent me to school in Switzerland. I can speak Italian, German, French, English and a little Dutch." She giggles. "My best friend in school comes from Amsterdam."

"Say something in Dutch."

"Het is zo leuk je te ontmoeten."

"Can you say that in Italian?"

"E 'così bello conoscerti."

Anna's voice sends a thrill up Roderick's leg.