U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [533]
"Of course," she said. "You made a magnificent speech, so restrained and kind of fiery. .
. . It was the best in the whole meeting.""You didn't think I seemed agitated? I was afraid I'd go to pieces and not be able to finish. . . . You're sure nobody knows this address, or the phonenum-ber? You're sure we weren't fol owed?""I'm sure no-body'l find you here on Madison Avenue. . . . It's the last place they'd look.""I know they are trailing me," he said with a shudder and dropped into a chair again. They were silent for a long time. Mary could hear the gaslogs and the little sucking sips he drank the hot milk with. Then she said:
"It must have been terrible."
He got to his feet and shook his head as if he didn't want to talk about it. He was a young man lankilybuilt, but he walked up and down in front of the gaslogs with a strangely elderly dragging walk. His face was white as a mushroom with sags of brownish skin under the eyes.
"You see," he said, "it's like people who've been sick and have to learn to walk al over again don't pay
any attention."
He drank several cups of hot milk and then he went
to bed. She went into the other bedroom and closed the door and lay down on the bed with a pile of books and pamphlets. She had some legal details to look up. She had just gotten sleepy and crawled under the covers herself whon a knocking woke her. She snatched at her
-441-bathrobe and jumped up and opened the door. Ben Comp-ton stood there trembling wearing a long unionsuit. He'd taken off his glasses and they'd left a red band across the bridge of his nose. His hair was rumpled and his knobby feet were bare.
"Comrade," he stammered, "d'you mind if I . . . d'you mind if I . . . d'you mind if I lie on the bed beside you? I can't sleep. I can't stay alone.""You poor boy. . . . Get into bed, you are shivering," she said. She lay down beside him stil wearing her bathrobe and slippers.
"Shal I put out the light?" He nodded. "Would you like some aspirin?" He shook his head. She pul ed the covers up under his chin as if he were a child. He lay there on his back staring with wideopen black eyes at the ceiling. His teeth were clenched. She put her hand on his forehead as she would on a child's to see if he was feverish. He shuddered and drew away. "Don't touch me," he said. Mary put out the light and tried to compose herself to sleep on the bed beside him. After a while he grabbed her hand and held it tight. They lay there in the dark side by side staring up at the ceiling. Then she felt his grip on her hand loosen; he was dropping off to sleep. She lay there beside him with her eyes open. She was afraid the slightest stir might wake him. Every time she fel asleep she dreamed that detectives were breaking in the door and woke up with a shuddering start.
Next morning when she went out to go to the office he was stil asleep. She left a latchkey for him and a note explaining that there was food and coffee in the icebox. When she got home that afternoon her heart beat fast as she went up in the elevator. Her first thought after she'd opened the door was that he'd gone. The bedroom was empty. Then she noticed that the bathroom door was closed and that a sound of humming came from there. She tapped. "That you, Comrade Compton?" she said.
-442-"Be right out." His voice sounded firmer, more like the deep rich voice he'd addressed the meeting in. He came out smiling, long pale legs bristling with black hairs sticking oddly out from under Mary's lavender bathrobe.
"Hel o, I've been taking a hot bath. This is the third I've taken. Doctor said they were a good thing. . . . You know, relax. . . ." He pul ed out a pinkleather edition of Oscar Wilde Dorian Grey from under his arm and shook it in front of her. "Reading this tripe. . . . I feel better.
. . . Say, comrade, whose apartment is this anyway?"
"A friend of mine who's a violinist. . . . She's away til fal .""I wish she was here to play for us. I'd