A skilled artist once again applies her techniques to a hollow nothingness, well titled ""those without shadows"". This seems a wholly surface application intended to reflect -- as in a mirror -- a group of amoral people who take it for granted that every man has his extra marital affaire, that there's a reasonably amicable acceptance of interchange of bedmates, and that- while there's heartbreak here and there- it is of little moment. There seems small excuse for this book. In her two earlier books one accepted the penetration of adolescent emotions with a certain astonished recognition of Latin vs Anglo-Saxon standards. A Certain Smile seemed the predictable next step in development from Bonjour Tstesse. Could it be assumed that Those Without Shadows portrays the inevitable denouement? One hopes-not too confidently- that the American reading public will find this a bore.