CHAPTER SEVEN
"Darling," Gloria said, as she restlessly paced the living room floor some two months later, "I'm sick of the Harpers. I think I hate that little brunette bitch."
"What the hell are you trying to say?" Martin turned irritably and in surprise from the bar where he was mixing a before-dinner martini. "You sure seem to like her husband, though."
"The f**k I do! I love you!"
Martin stared with startled eyes at the obviously unhappy woman in front of him. I don't even know my own wife anymore, he thought. She's still as beautiful as ever ... still as sensual, but we're so tired after our all-night sessions with the neighbors that we don't seem to be interested in normal husband-wife s*x anymore. He sighed and then said lamely, "Maybe it's because we've had enough of Mabel and
