• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Lonigan.”

“Mine’s Al Coombs.”

“Boys, mine is Burke,” the bushy-browed fellow said.

“Well, that takes care of that,” the thin fellow said, short of wind, as he caught up with them.

“What’s your name, lad? Mine’s Al Coombs.”

“Cohen.”

“Sister, don’t take it so hard. This will never kill a girl. In fact, it’s harder on a guy than a girl, and it’s just a passing interlude that helps you out of a tough spot and is fun for all concerned,” Coombs said slowly, and she smiled grimly.

“We’re not the ape kind. It’s just going to be a nice little party, with everybody cooperating to have the best time we can. You’re married and know what it’s all about, and know it’s not going to hurt you. Just a little party to add to the glory of mankind,” Cohen said, and they laughed.

“Skip it, fellow!” she said.

“Sure, if you say so. I only just wanted to let you know we all had the right attitude about it,” Cohen said.

“Sure that hubby won’t be around to catch us?” said Coombs.

“No danger,” she answered decisively.

“It wouldn’t kind of look so right if he did. And he wouldn’t like it, would he? Ha! Ha!” Coombs said.

“He won’t be home until at least seven.”

“That’s O. K. by me, sister. I like your looks, and I don’t like to think of any irate husbands coming around to spoil our little round of fun,” Cohen said.

Studs caught her wincing. He felt like walking out. Hell, they were all taking advantage of her, and she didn’t like the idea of doing this. Her husband, too, he must be a tough, two-headed bastard or she wouldn’t have propositioned them rather than tell him she’d lost the dough. Women were just too funny for his comprehension. Laying strangers, like a common whore, rather than tell her husband she’d lost the house dough on the ponies. Suppose the guy did come home? A mess then. But there were four of them, and this Coombs boy looked plenty big. And was she nice! Anticipating it made him feel just raring to go. He forgot everything else, and he tried to hold the image of her naked in his mind, her flesh soft and white.

“Play the races regular?” he asked, ranging himself on her left, wanting to make a better impression on her than the other lads might.

“Yes... but I never had such bad luck before as I had today. I lost on every single race.”

“It runs that way,” he philosophized sympathetically, thinking that he might tell her something about his own rotten luck with the stock.

“I know it. But this week has been my downfall,” she smiled. “And I thought that I had worked out a good system to win. Oh, well, it’s all in a lifetime.”

“Yep, it’s all to be charged up to the school of experience.”

“If my husband knew it, he would darn near kill me. George has such a vile temper. And he just doesn’t understand. When I win money, I buy extra little things for the house and the baby. And a woman has to have some excitement in life. I can’t sit at home all day sweeping and cooking and washing diapers and twiddling my thumb, and then in the evening listening to him talk about business and politics. And when he turns on the radio, do you think he listens to music? Not on your life. Always to speeches.”

“Wouldn’t this make him sore?” asked Burke, and it led Studs tb think, pleased, that he was going to tamper with another man’s woman, put something over on the poor sap.

“What he doesn’t know will be no skin off his ears. I got to have money, that’s all there is to it. I’ve never done a thing like this before, and I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t need tilt money right away.”

“You mean that all your experience has been with George?” asked Cohen.

She looked angrily at him.

“I know it’s none of my business. But you know, it’s just in such things that variety adds to the spice of life, and you look to me to be smart enough to have learned that.”

“I keep my own secrets,” she smiled.

“I can see that. You look smart to me, girlie,” he said unctuously.

“I keep my own secrets. But even so, I’ve never had a secret like this one to keep before,” she said, slipping her arm through Cohen