It be blindness, you think; could the sun that was tanning you have gone out instantaneously, leaving you in utter blackness? Then the nerves of your body tell you that you are , whereas only a second ago you were sitting comfortably, almost reclining, in a canvas chair. In the patio of a friend's house in Beverly Hills. Talking to Barbara, your fiancee. Looking at Barbara -- Barbara in a swim suit -- her skin golden tan in the brilliant sunshine, beautiful. . . .