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he Hypnerotomachia may never have had much outward charm； but it has an ugly woman's wiles； the slow addictive tug of inner mystery。 When I caught myself slipping into it the same way my father had； I managed to pull myself out and throw in the towel before it could ruin my relationship with a girlfriend who deserved better。 Since then； things between Paul and me haven't been the same。 A graduate student he knows； Bill Stein； has helped with his research since I begged off。 Now； as his thesis deadline approaches； Paul has bee strangely guarded。 He's usually much more forthing about his work； but over the past week he's withdrawn not only from me but from Charlie and Gil too； refusing to speak a word of his research to anyone。
〃So； which way are you leaning； Tom？〃 Gil asks。
Charlie glances up from the fridge。 〃Yeah；〃 he says； 〃we're all on tenterhooks。〃
Gil and I groan。 Tenterhooks is one of the words Charlie missed on his midterm。 He attributed it to Moby…Dick instead of Tobias Smollett's Adventures of Roderick Random on the grounds that it sounded more like a kind of fishing lure than a word for suspense。 Now he won't let it go。
〃Get over it；〃 Gil says。
〃Name me one doctor who knows what a tenterhook is；〃 Charlie says。
Before either of us can answer； a rustling sound es from inside the bedroom I share with Paul。 Suddenly； standing before us at the door； wearing only boxers and a T…shirt； is Paul himself。
〃Just one？〃 he asks； rubbing his eyes。 〃Tobias Smollett。 He was a surgeon。〃
Charlie glances back at the magnets。 〃Figures。〃
Gil chuckles； but says nothing。
〃We thought you went to Ivy；〃 Charlie says； when the pause bees noticeable。
Paul shakes his head； backtracking into his room to pick up his notebook。 His straw…colored hair is pressed flat on one side； and there are pillow creases on his face。 〃Not enough privacy；〃 he says。 〃I've been working in my bunk again。 Fell asleep。〃
He's hardly gotten a wink in two nights； maybe more。 Paul's advisor； Dr。 Vincent Taft； has pressed him to produce more and more documentation every week…and unlike most advisors； who are happy to let seniors hang by the rope of their own expectations； Taft has kept a hand at Paul's back from the start。
〃So； what about it； Tom？〃 Gil asks； filling the silence。 〃What's your decision？〃
I glance up at the table。 He's talking about the letters in front of me； which I've been eyeing between each sentence in my book。 The first letter is from the University of Chicago； offering me admission to a doctoral program in English。 Books are in my blood； the same way medical school is in Charlie's； and a Ph。D。 from Chicago would suit me just fine。 I did have to scrap for the acceptance letter a little more than I wanted to； partly because my grades at Princeton have been middling； but mainly because I don't know exactly what I want to do with myself； and a good graduate program can smell indecision like a dog can smell fear。
〃Take the money；〃 Gil says； never taking his eyes off Audrey Hepburn。
Gil is a banker's son from Manhattan。 Princeton has never been a destination for him； just a window seat with a view； a stopover on the way to Wall Street。 He is a caricature of himself in that respect； and he manages a smile whenever we give him a hard time about it。 He'll be smiling all the way to the bank； we know； even Charlie； who's sure to make a small fortune as a doctor； won't hold a candle to the kind of paychecks Gil will see。
〃Don't listen to him；〃 Paul says from the other side of the room。 〃Follow your heart。〃
I look up； surprised that he's aware of anything but his thesis。
〃Follow the money；〃 Gil says； standing up to get a bottle of water from the refrigerator。
〃What'd they offer？〃 Charlie asks； ignoring the magnets for a second。
〃Forty…one；〃 Gil guesses； and a few Elizabethan words tumble from the fridge as he closes it。 〃Bonus of five。 Plus options。〃
Spring semester is job season； and 1999 is a buyer's market。 Forty…one thousand dollars a year is roughly double what I expected to be earning with my lowly English degree； but pared to some of the deals I've seen classmates make； you'd think it was barely getting by。
I pick up the letter from Daedalus； an Internet firm in Austin that claims to have developed the world's most advanced software for streamlining the corporate back office。 I know almost nothing about the pany； let alone what a back office is； but a friend down the hall suggested I interview with them； and as rumors circulated about high starting salaries at this unknown Texas start…up； I went。 Daedalus； following the general trend； didn't care that I knew nothing about them or their business。 If I could just solve a few brainteasers at an interview； and seem reasonably articulate and friendly in the process； the job was mine。 Thus； in good Caesarian fashion； I could； I did； and it was。
〃Close；〃 I say； reading from the letter。 〃Forty…three thousand a year。 Signing bonus of three thousand。 Fifteen hundred options。〃
〃And a partridge in a pear tree；〃 Paul adds from across the room。 He's the only one acting like it's dirtier to talk about money than it is to touch it。 〃Vanity of vanities。〃
Charlie is shifting the magnets again。 In a fulminating baritone he imitates the preacher at his church； a tiny black man from Georgia who just finished his degree at the Princeton Theological Seminary。 〃Vanity of vanities。 All is vanity。〃
〃Be honest with yourself； Tom；〃 Paul says impatiently； though he never makes eye contact。 〃Any pany that thinks you deserve a salary like that isn't going to be around for long。 You don't even know what they do。〃 He returns to his notebook； scribbling away。 Like most prophets； he is fated to be ignored。
Gil keeps his focus on the television； but Charlie looks up； hearing the edge in Paul's voice。 He rubs a hand along the stubble on his chin； then says； 〃All right； everybody stop。 I think it's time to let off some steam。〃
For the first time； Gil turns away from the movie。 He must hear what I hear： the faint emphasis on the word steam。
〃Right now？〃 I ask。
Gil looks at his watch； taking to the idea。 〃We'd be clear for about half an hour；〃 he says； and in a show of support he even turns off the television； letting Audrey fizzle into the tube。
Charlie flips his Fitzgerald shut； mischief stirring。 The broken spine springs open in protest； but he tosses the book onto the couch。
〃I'm working；〃 Paul objects。 〃I need to finish this。〃
He glances at me oddly。
〃What？〃 I ask。
But Paul remains silent。
〃What's the problem； girls？〃 Charlie says impatiently。
〃It's still snowing out there；〃 I remind everyone。
The first snowstorm of the year came howling into town today； just when spring seemed perched on the tip of every tree branch。 Now there are calls for a foot of accumulation； maybe more。 The Easter weekend festivities on campus； which this year include a Good Friday lecture by Paul's thesis advisor； Vincent Taft； have been reorganized。 This is hardly the weather for what Charlie has in mind。
〃You don't have to meet Curry until 8：30； right？〃 Gil asks Paul； trying to convince him。 〃We'll be done by then。 You can work more tonight。〃
Richard