M.A., alias Marianne Jenkins, was living the fast, high life of Madison avenue, with drinks before, at and after noon, while she worked as a gal reporter for a Warner Publications mag. She had slept in several beds, the latest that of the Hughes with whom she had just, unwillingly, broken up. Jackson Sorenson, the art director, was willing to do a mutual solace bit--it was his wife The Hughes was shacked up with in Washington. But a big assignment--to find out about a man named Janus who said the world was going to end on Sunday--took M.A. to Paseo, Calif. Come to mock, she stayed to listen to the near-blind doctor who had lost one kind of sight merely to find another, that of seeing into men's souls...and the future. Marianne laid down the defenses of a superficial sophistication in her love for Sam, the rancher she found there. But her past followed her...only to be ultimately exorcised. Talk of the nature of time is mixed in with a crude lingo meant to represent unholy Madison Avenue--and to which our heroine even in her new state of awareness is not immune. On the gauche side.