U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [389]
"After al , my name is Doris," she said in a tiny babytalk voice.
"Doris," he said. "Mine's Charley."
" Charley, do you like to dance?" she asked in the same tiny voice. "Sure," Charley said, giving her hand a quick
-16-squeeze. Her voice melted like a little tiny piece of candy.
"Me too. . . . Oh, so much."
When they went in the orchestra was playing Darda-nel a. Charley left his trenchcoat and his hat in the check-room. The headwaiter's heavy grizzled eyebrows bowed over a white shirtfront. Charley was fol owing Doris's slender back, the hol ow between the shoulderblades where his hand would like to be, across the red carpet, between the white tables, the men's starched shirts, the women's shoulders, through the sizzly smel of champagne and welshrabbit and hot chafingdishes, across a corner of the dancefloor among the swaying couples to the round white table where the rest of them were already settled. The knives and forks shone among the stiff creases of the fresh tablecloth. Mrs. Benton was pul ing off her white kid gloves look-ing at Ol ie Taylor's purple face as he told a funny story.
"Let's dance," Charley whispered to Doris. "Let's dance al the time." Charley was scared of dancing too tough so he held her a little away from him. She had a way of dancing with her eyes closed. "Gee, Doris, you are a wonderful dancer." When the music stopped the tables and the cigarsmoke and the people went on reeling a little round their heads. Doris was looking up at him out of the corners of her eyes. "I bet you miss the French girls, Charley. How did you like the way the French girls danced, Charley?"
"Terrible."
At the table they were drinking champagne out of
breakfast coffeecups. Ol ie had had two bottles sent up from the club by a messenger. When the music Started again Charley had to dance with Mrs. Benton, and then with the other lady, the one with the diamonds and the spare tire round her waist. He and Doris only had two more dances together. Charley could see the others wanted to go home because Ol ie was getting too tight. He had a
-17-flask of rye on his hip and a couple of times had beckoned Charley out to have a swig in the cloakroom with him. Charley tongued the bottle each time because he was hop-ing he'd get a chance to take Doris home. When they got outside it turned out she lived in the same block as the Bentons did; Charley cruised around on the outside of the group while the ladies were getting their wraps on before going out to the taxicab, but he couldn't get a look from her. It was just, "Goodnight, Ol ie dear, goodnight, Lieutenant Anderson," and the doorman slam-ming the taxi door. He hardly knew which of the hands he had shaken had been hers.
NEWSREEL XLV
'Twarn't for powder and for storebought hair
De man I love would not gone nowhere
if one should seek a simple explanation of his career it would doubtless be found in that extraordinary decision to for-sake the ease of a clerkship for the wearying labor of a section hand. The youth who so early in life had so much of judgment and wil power could not fail to rise above the general run of men. He became the intimate of bankers St. Louis woman wid her diamon' rings
Pul s dat man aroun' by her apron strings
Tired of walking, riding a bicycle or riding in streetcars, he is likely to buy a Ford. DAYLIGHT HOLDUP SCATTERS CROWD
Just as soon as his wife discovers that every Ford is like every other Ford and that nearly everyone has one, she is likely to influence him to step into the next social group, of which the Dodge is the most conspicuous example.
-18-The next step comes when daughter comes back from col-lege and the family moves into a new home. Father wants economy. Mother craves opportunity for her children, daugh-ter desires social prestige and son wants travel, speed, get-up-and-go. MAN
SLAIN NEAR HOTEL MAJESTIC BY
THREE FOOTPADS
I hate to see de evenin sun go down.
Hate to see de evenin sun go down
Cause my baby