As she passed Allbee on the stairs, he gave her pregnant figure an appraising look. Leventhal walked out of the lobby. He was aware that Allbee was coming up to him, but he did not raise his eyes until he heard him speak.
“Hello, Leventhal.”
The low, thick voice with its old tone of complicity, the big, obtrusive figure in the white jacket, disturbed him.
“Hello,” he answered nervously.
“I saw you when we were coming in.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
“I knew it would be all right with you if I acted like a total stranger, so it’s up to me, and I’d feel like a terrible fool if I didn’t speak to you… You saw me, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And who I was with?”
“The actress? My wife recognized her.”
“Oh, your wife,” he said politely. “Very handsome. Very fetching, even in her condition.” He began to smile broadly, displaying his teeth. With his hands on his hips, he bent forward slightly. “Congratulations. I see you’re following orders. ‘Increase and multiply.’ “
Leventhal answered him with a dull, short nod. It seemed to him that Allbee had no real desire to be malicious; he was merely obedient to habit. He might have been smiling at himself and making an appeal of a sort for understanding. On nearer sight, Allbee did not look good. His color was an unhealthy one. Leventhal had the feeling that it was the decay of something that had gone into his appearance of well-being, something intimate. There was very little play in the deepened wrinkles around his eyes. They had a fabric quality, crumpled and blank. A smell of whisky came from him.
“You haven’t changed much,” said Allbee.
“I wasn’t the one that was going to change so much.”
“Ah, that. Well, do I still look the same to you?”
“You still drink.”
“Ever since I saw you, I’ve been wondering whether you’d mention that. You’re true to form.” He grinned, but he was somewhat hurt. “No, I only take it socially because everybody else does.”
“You look successful.”
“Oh,” he said lightly. “Success is a big word. You ought to be careful how you use it.”
“What do you do?”
“Just now I’m squiring Miss Crane around. The columnists say we’re friends, when they bother to mention her. She’s not the drawing card she used to be. You probably know. Well, she doesn’t want much public attention now, or she’d be seen with someone more celebrated. But she doesn’t care. She’s glad all that professional business is over for her and she can live more quietly. She’s actually a very intelligent person. We’re both a little lost, out there on the Coast.”
Leventhal nodded again.
“Oh, yes. She’s real nobility. She’s really fine. Queenly, if you know what I mean. Some of those women become loathsome when their popularity dies down. They live like criminals. They want to make up for all those years under the public eye, I guess.”
“So… I congratulate you too,” Leventhal murmured.
“She’s not Flora, of course.. My wife.” His continued smile gave a touch of cynicism to the sensational, terrible look of pain that rose to his eyes. Leventhal saw that he could not help himself and pitied him. “She has qualities…”
His last words were lost in the braying of the taxis. Leventhal found nothing to say.
“I want you to know one thing,” said Allbee. “That night… I wanted to put an end to myself. I wasn’t thinking of hurting you. I suppose you would have been.. But I wasn’t thinking of you. You weren’t even in my mind.”
Leventhal laughed outright at this.
“You could have jumped in the river. That’s a funny lie. Why tell it? Did you have to use my kitchen?”
Allbee glanced around restlessly. The bays that rose into his loose blond hair became crimson. “No,” he said miserably. “Well, anyhow, I don’t remember how it was. I must have been demented. When you turn against yourself, nobody else means anything to you either.” Bitterly shame-faced and self-mocking, he took Leventhal’s hand and pressed it. “But I want to say that I owe you something. I was trying to get around it when I talked about trying to kill myself only.” He spoke with great difficulty. “I don’t want to exaggerate, but I don’t want to play it down either. I know I owe you something. I knew it that night when I was standing in your shower. .”
Leventhal pulled his hand away.
“What do you do out there, are you an actor?”
“An actor? No, I’m in radio. Advertising. It’s a middle-sized job. So you see? I’ve made my peace with things as they are. I’ve gotten off the pony — you remember, I said that to you once? I’m on the train.”
“A conductor?”
“Conductor, hell! I’m just a passenger.” His laugh was short and faint. “Not even first class. I’m not the type that runs things. I never could be. I realized that long ago. I’m the type that comes to terms with whoever runs things. What do I care? The world wasn’t made exactly for me. What am I going to do about it?”
“What?” Leventhal smiled at him.
“Approximately made for me will have to be good enough. All that stiffness of once upon a time, that’s gone, that’s gone.”
The crowd was beginning to return. The curtain bell had rung.
“Anyway, I’m enjoying life.” Suddenly he looked around and said, “Say, I’ve got to run. Yvonne will send them out looking for me.”
“Wait a minute, what’s your idea of who runs things?” said Leventhal. But he heard Mary’s voice at his back. Allbee ran in and sprang up the stairs. The bell continued its dinning, and Leventhal and Mary were still in the aisle when the houselights went off. An usher showed them to their seats.