Out on the patio, Nils is working on his Christmas cards. Nicole is working on her suntan. “Almost done, darling?” she asks.

“Ha!” Nils replies. “Not even close. At times like these I almost wish I didn’t have so many friends. More than two thousand. My tongue is so dry from licking envelopes.”

Nicole shifts in her chair. Lifts a leg onto the table top. In a sleepy drawl she says, “I know where you can moisten that tongue of yours.”