Irwin Shaw‘s short story “The Girls in Their Summer Dresses” is able to make one yearn for Sundays in New York City of old, postwar.

Michael and Frances are taking a pleasant walk on the city streets, but a problem is rising in their marriage. Michael compulsively looks at other women everywhere he goes, and he looks, Frances says, as though he wants them. Frances is persistently honest about her husband—no surprise there; then Michael becomes honest about himself. Not, however, without certain indications about Michael’s abiding love for his pretty-girl wife (in the last sentence, “such nice legs”). Will this husband redeem himself?

I read this enjoyable story on