U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [507]
" Agnes," said Margo, getting to her feet, "if you talk like that I'm going to send you right back to New
York. . . . Haven't I been depressed enough? Your nose is al red. It's awful. . . . Look, you make yourself at home. I'm going out to attend to some business.""Oh, I can't stay here. I feel too strange," sobbed Agnes. "Wel , you can come along if you take off that dreadful veil. Hurry up, I've got to meet somebody."
-381-She made Agnes fix her hair and put on a white blouse. The black dress real y was quite becoming to her. Margo made her put on a little makeup. "There, dearie. Now you look lovely," she said and kissed her.
"Is this real y your car?" sighed Agnes as she sank back on the seat of the blue Buick sedan. "I can't believe it.""Want to see the registration papers?" said Margo.
"Al right, Raymond, you know where the broker's office is.""I sure do, miss," said Raymond, touching the shiny visor of his cap as the motor started to hum under the unscratched paint of the hood.
At the broker's office there was the usual wel dressed elderly crowd in sportsclothes fil ing up the benches, men with panamahats held on knees of Palm Beach suits and linen plusfours, women in pinks and greens and light tan and white crisp dresses. It always affected Margo a little like church, the whispers, the deferential manners, the boys quick and attentive at the long blackboards marked with columns of symbols, the click of the telegraph, the firm voice reading the quotations off the ticker at a desk in the back of the room. As they went in Agnes in an awed voice whispered in Margo's ear hadn't she better go and sit in the car until Margo had finished her business. "No, stick around," said Margo. "You see those boys are chalk-ing up the stockmarket play by play on those black-boards. . . . I'm just beginning to get on to this business." Two elderly gentlemen with white hair and broadflanged Jewish noses smilingly made room for them on a bench in the back of the room. Several people turned and stared at Margo. She heard a woman's voice hissing something about Anderson to the man beside her. There was a little stir of whispering and nudging. Margo felt wel dressed and didn't care.
"Wel , ma dear young lady," Judge Cassidy's voice purred behind her, "buyin' or sel in'
today?" Margo turned her head. There was the glint of a gold tooth in
-382-the smile on the broad red face under the thatch of silvery hair the same color as the grey linen suit which was crossed by another glint of gold in the watchchain looped double across the ample bulge of the judge's vest. Margo shook her head. "Nothing much doing today," she said. Judge Cassidy jerked his head and started for the door. Margo got up and fol owed, pul ing Agnes after her. When they got out in the breezy sunshine of the short street that ran to the bathingbeach, Margo introduced Agnes as her guardian angel.
"I hope you won't disappoint us today the way you did yesterday, ma dear young lady," began Judge Cassidy.
"Perhaps we can induce Mrs. Mandevil e . . ."
"I'm afraid not," broke in Margo. "You see the poor darling's so tired. . . . She's just gotten in from New York. . . . You see, Agnes dear, we are going to look at some lots. Raymond wil take you home, and lunch is al ordered for you and everything. . . . You just take a nice rest."
"Oh, of course I do need a rest," said Agnes, flushing. Margo helped her into the Buick that Raymond had just brought around from the parkingplace, kissed her and then walked down the block with the judge to where his Pierce Arrow touringcar stood shiny and glittery in the hot noon sunlight.
The judge drove his own car. Margo sat with him in
the front seat. As soon as he'd started the car she said,
"Wel , what about that check?""Why, ma dear young lady, I'm very much afraid that no funds means no
funds. . . . I presume we can recover from the estate."
"Just in time to make a first payment on a cemetery lot."
"Wel , those things do take time . . . the poor boy seems to have left his affairs