She went into the bathroom and bathed and returned to the bedroom and dressed, and then, as she brushed her hair and fixed her face, she tried to decide if it would be a good idea to find someone to go to lunch with, but she came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t. It would be too much trouble and take too much time, and it might interfere with what she had better do afterward, which was to go to Bernardine DeWitt’s apartment on MacDougal Street and tell her that it would be unnecessary, after all, to lie about the night before last, which seemed like last night. Having arranged these details, she finished her face and called the garage on the telephone.
“This is Mrs. Oliver Alton Farnese,” she said crisply. “Have my car brought around immediately. The Jaguar, please.”
After saying this, she wondered if the Jaguar was the car she had recently left somewhere that she couldn’t recall, but apparently it either wasn’t or had been returned by someone, for the attendant in the garage said he would have it taken around right away, and when she got downstairs it was waiting for her. She drove to a restaurant on Fifth Avenue and had most of a large salad for lunch, and it wasn’t until after she had finished eating that she had a Martini. This was not a record or anything like that, but at least it was unusual and indicated that this might turn out to be one of her moderate days. She didn’t make any resolution concerning it, however.
After drinking the Martini, she left the restaurant and drove to Bernardine’s on MacDougal Street, and the day began at once to be less moderate than she had thought it might. It was about three o’clock when she got there, and several people were drinking cocktails and talking in groups of two or three about various things, and it had the feel to Charity of something that had just begun and would go on for a long time and become quite a lot bigger. Bernardine was being vivacious with a blond young man with an incredibly perfect profile, and she smiled across the room at Charity and lifted a hand with a glass in it, and Charity went to find a glass of her own, which she found on a tray in the hands of a maid. What she intended to do was have one cocktail, or possibly two, and talk with Bernardine and go home, and so, with this intention in mind, she went over to where Bernardine was talking vivaciously to the profile, and it was apparent that Bernardine didn’t particularly like it.
“Hello, darling,” Bernardine said. “Do you know Perry Humferdill? I’ve only just met him myself, to tell the truth. Someone brought him. Perry, this is Charity Farnese.”
Perry Humferdill took Charity’s free hand and held it and exposed a great many teeth that had the perfection of plates. The day had obviously not been moderate in his case for several hours at least. His full face wasn’t as good as his profile, but it was superior, nevertheless, if you cared for beautiful men, which Charity didn’t especially, unless they were beautiful by being exceptionally ugly.
“Really?” she said. “Is your name really Humferdill?”
He released her hand and covered his teeth.
“Yes,” he said. “Perry Humferdill. From Dallas.”
“Well,” she said. “Imagine.”
“Never mind Charity,” Bernardine said. “She is almost always insulting until after the third or fourth Martini, and then it’s simply amazing how friendly she becomes with almost anyone. Darling, have you taken any more piano lessons lately?”
“No,” Charity said. “I’ve decided to give up the piano, as a matter of fact, and I merely dropped in to tell you that it won’t be necessary for you to do what we arranged yesterday. I didn’t know, of course, that you were having a party.”
“Well, I didn’t know it myself, actually, but it seems that I am. It’s just something that got started as a result of several people coming at almost the same time, and apparently they have been calling other people, who will also call other people, and I’m sure there’s no way in the world to stop it even if I wanted to.”
“I know. It’s remarkable how something can simply get started and keep going and going. It’s happened to me a number of times. I’m sure it will be a very good party, anyhow, and I wish I could stay, but I can’t. I’ll just have one more Martini, if you don’t mind, before I go.”
Bernardine said she didn’t mind, and Charity smiled at Perry Humferdill from Dallas as if she didn’t quite believe in either one, and Perry Humferdill uncovered his teeth again and said that it had been a pleasure meeting her, which she knew wasn’t true. Moving away, Charity was still feeling fairly resolute and still intended to leave after one more Martini, but the party was growing quite rapidly, and she kept meeting someone else she knew with whom she was compelled to have a cocktail out of politeness, and somehow or other it got to be six o’clock in the sudden way that time has, and at six o’clock she saw Milton Crawford, who had not yet seen her and who was certain to be sullen and difficult about her having deserted him. She didn’t feel like making up any lies to explain why she had done it, and so she decided that she had definitely better leave, but it was a little too late and far too early to return home.
She began to think of other places to go, and all the time she knew perfectly well that the only place she wanted to go and was certainly going was the little bar near Sheridan Square in which Joe Doyle played the piano.
Chapter 10
Charity crawled onto a stool in the bar near Sheridan Square.
“Well,” said Yancy, the superior bartender.
“You remember me,” she said, and smiled with delight. “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I remember you, all right,” Yancy said.
“You can’t imagine how pleased I am. Do you customarily remember all your customers?”
“Just the opposite, as a matter of fact. I customarily forget them.”
“Really? That makes me rather special, doesn’t it?”
“Special’s the word, lady.”
“Well, as you know, I have great respect for your opinion, and I’m extremely flattered that you think so. Would you be willing to tell me why you have remembered me instead of forgetting me in the customary way?”
“I just told you, lady. You’re special.”
“How special?”
“You’re rich and beautiful.”
“Is that special? Surely lots of women are rich and beautiful.”
“Not in this place. Sometimes we get beautiful ones, and now and then we get rich ones, but hardly ever anyone who’s both.”
“Nevertheless, I’m not so flattered as I was. I was hoping for something quite a lot more special than merely being rich and beautiful.”
“I can mention other things, if you insist.”
“I do. I insist that you mention them.”
“Well, let’s put it this way, lady. You’re nuts. You wander around in blackouts and don’t remember where you’ve been or how you got where you are.”
“That’s better. Much better. Now you are really getting into the special things.”
“Did you have another blackout today?”
“No. Not at all. I went to an unexpected party and had a few Martinis, but not nearly enough to cause a blackout.” She pushed at her hair on the heavy side and looked up at him through her lashes. “I’ve been rather moderate, to tell the truth. You can see that for yourself. You can see that I’ve been here for several minutes already and haven’t even asked for a drink.”
“I admit that it struck me. Congratulations on your moderation.”
She laughed, bringing her hands together above the bar.
“I like that! Congratulations on your moderation. There’s a kind of swing to it. However, now that a drink has been mentioned, I believe I’d like to have one. Do you think having one would be immoderate?”