U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [146]
She got up and went into the private office with her pencil and pad in one hand. J. Ward started to dictate as if nothing had happened but half way through a letter to the president of the Ansonia Carbide Corporation he sud-denly said, "Oh, hel ," and gave the wastebasket a kick that sent it spinning against the wal .
"Excuse me, Miss Wil iams; I'm very much worried
-340-.. Miss Wil iams, I'm sure I can trust you not to men-tion it to a soul . . . You understand, my wife is not quite herself; she's been il . . . the last baby . . . you know those things sometimes happen to women."
Janey looked up at him. Tears had started into her eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Moorehouse, how can you think I'd not under-stand? . . . Oh, it must be dreadful for you, and this is a great work and so interesting." She couldn't say any more. Her lips couldn't form any words. "Miss Wil-liams," J. Ward was saying, "I . . . er . . . appreciate
. . . er." Then he picked up the wastepaper basket. Janey jumped up and helped him pick up the crumpled papers and trash that had scattered over the floor. His face was flushed from stooping. "Grave responsibilities . . . Irre-sponsible woman may do a hel of a lot of damage, you understand." Janey nodded and nodded. "Wel , where were we? Let's finish up and get out of here." They set the wastebasket under the desk and started in on the letters again.
Al the way home to Chelsea, picking her way through the slush and pools of water on the streets, Janey was thinking of what she'd liked to have said to J. Ward to make him understand that everybody in the office would stand by him whatever happened. When she got in the apartment, Eliza Tingley said a man had cal ed her up. "Sounded like a rather rough type; wouldn't give his name; just said to say Joe had cal ed up and that he'd cal up again." Janey felt Eliza's eyes on her inquisitively.
"That's my brother Joe, I guess . . . He's a . . . he's in the merchant marine." Some friends of the Tingleys came in, they had two
tables of bridge and were having a very jol y evening when the telephone rang again, and it was Joe. Janey felt herself blushing as she talked to him. She couldn't ask him up and stil she wanted to see him. The others were
-341-cal ing to her to play her hand. He said he had just got in and that he had some presents for her and he'd been clear out to Flatbush and that the yids there had told him she lived in Chelsea now and he was in the cigar store at the corner of Eighth Avenue. The others were cal ing to her to play her hand. She found herself saying that she was very busy doing some work and wouldn't he meet her at five tomorrow at the office building where she worked. She asked him again how he was and he said, "Fine," but he sounded disappointed. When she went back to her table they al kidded her about the boyfriend and she laughed and blushed, but inside she felt mean because she hadn't asked him to come up.
Next evening it snowed. When she stepped out of the elevator crowded to the doors at five o'clock she looked eagerly round the vestibule. Joe wasn't there. As she was saying goodnight to Gladys she saw him through the
door. He was standing outside with his hands deep in the pockets of a blue peajacket. Big blobs of snowflakes spun round his face that looked lined and red and weatherbeaten.
"Hel o, Joe," she said.
"Hel o, Janey."
"When did you get in?
"A couple a days ago."
"Are you in good shape, Joe? How do you feel?
"I gotta rotten head today . . . Got stinkin' last night."
" Joe, I was so sorry about last night but there were a lot of people there and I wanted to see you alone so we could talk."
Joe grunted.
"That's awright, Janey . . . Gee, you're lookin' swel . If any of the guys saw me with you they'd think I'd picked up somethin' pretty swel awright."
Janey felt uncomfortable. Joe had on heavy work-shoes and there were splatters of gray paint on his trouser--342-legs. He had a package wrapped in newspaper under his arm.
"Let's go eat somewheres . . . Jez, I'm sorry I'm not rigged up better. We lost al our duffle,