A first, intimate, perhaps immoderate, novel shifts, not altogether successfully, somewhere along the course so that while it begins as a bright entertainment-it accelerates through some fairly sodden scenes of New York City night life. In the chronology here, from the time when June decides to leave Bill and he helps her to pack, he looks back on the limitations of his love- his imperviousness- or as she claims- his ""disinterested, charitable, impersonal"" feelings toward her. In the days to follow he changes apartments, changes jobs (the advertising background here has authority), looks for her, tries to salvage her from her need for a love which can only be equated with dependence, and finally reaches an end of pity and his own inability to help her... There's a kind of urgency here which in his books Alfred Hayes has managed in his discordant his-and-her exchanges. Much more of a hothouse sophistication and some pretty sick activities (for adults only).