U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [551]
. . . anyway." It sounded phony in his ears, like something
-484-he'd say to a client. He jumped to his feet. "Say, Eveline, suppose I cal up Settignano and get some gin around?
I've got to have a drink. . . . I can't get the office out of my head."
"If you go back to the icebox you'l find some perfectly lovely cocktails al mixed. I just made them. There are some people coming in later.""How much later?""About seven o'clock . . . why?" Her eyes fol owed him teas-ingly as he went back through the glass doors. In the pantry the colored girl was putting on her hat.
" Cynthia, Mrs. Johnson al eges there are cocktails out here.""Yes, Mr. Dick, I'l get you some glasses.""Is this your afternoon out?""Yessir, I'm goin' to church."
"On Saturday afternoon?""Yessir, our church we have services every Saturday afternoon .
. . lots of folks don't get Sunday off nowadays.""It's gotten so I don't get any day off at al .""It shoa is too bad, Mr. Dick." He went back into the front room shakily, carrying the tray with the shaker jiggling on it. The two glasses clinked.
"Oh, Dick, I'm going to have to reform you. Your hands are shaking like an old greybeard's.""Wel , I am an old greybeard. I'm worrying myself to death about whether that bastardly patentmedicine king wil sign on the dotted line Monday."
"Don't talk about it. . . . It sounds just too awful. I've been working hard myself . . . I'm trying to put on a play."
" Eveline, that's swel ! Who's it by?"
" Charles Edward Holden. . . . It's a magnificent piece of work. I'm terribly excited about it. I think I know how to do it. . . . I don't suppose you want to put a couple of thousand dol ars in, do you, Dick?"
" Eveline, I'm flat broke. . . . They've got my salary garnisheed and Mother has to be supported in the style to which she is accustomed and then there's Brother Henry's ranch in Arizona . . . he's al bal ed up with a
-485-mortgage. . . . I thought Charles Edward Holden was just a columnist."
"This is a side of him that's never come out. . . . I think he's the real poet of modern New York . . . you wait and see."
Dick poured himself another cocktail. "Let's talk about just us for a minute. . . . I feel so frazzled. . . . Oh, Eveline, you know what I mean. . . . We've been pretty good friends." She let him hold her hand but she did not return the squeeze he gave it. "You know we always said we were just physical y attractive to each other . . . why isn't that the swel est thing in the world?" He moved up close to her on the couch, gave her a little kiss on the cheek, tried to twist her face around. "Don't you like this miserable sinner a little bit?"
" Dick, I can't." She got to her feet. Her lips were twitching and she looked as if she was going to burst into tears. "There's somebody I like very much . . . very, very much. I've decided to make some sense out of my life."
"Who? That damn columnist?"
"Never mind who."
Dick buried his face in his hands. When he took his hands away he was laughing. "Wel , if that isn't just my luck. . . . Just Johnny on the spot and me ful of speak-easy if that isn't just my luck. . . . Just Johnny on the spot and me ful of speak-easy Saturdayafternoon amorosity."
"Wel , Dick, I'm sure you won't lack for partners."
"I do today. . . . I feel lonely and hel ish. My life is a shambles."
"What a literary phrase."
"I thought it was pretty good myself but honestly I feel every whichway. . . . Something funny happened to me last night. 'I'l tel you about it someday when you like me better."
" Dick, why don't you go to Eleanor's? She's giving a party for al the boyars."
-486-"Is she real y going to marry that horrid little prince?" Eveline nodded with that same cold bitter look in her eyes. "I suppose a title is the last word in the decorating business. .
. . Why won't Eleanor put up some money?"
"I don't want