“No.”
“How much is it?”
“Over seven hundred dollars.”
“Where would Earl get that kind of money?”
“He sold his car,” Meecham said. “And a few other things.”
“But Earl knows his mother. It’s not reasonable for him to sell his things and send her a lot of money in a lump sum like that. He knows what she’d do with it.”
“He wanted her to take the money and leave town for a while, go on a little holiday.”
“A holiday, where?”
“Hasn’t she any relatives she can visit?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mr. Meecham. I mean, if she was your relative would you invite her for a visit? Earl must be crazy. A holiday. He must be...”
“About this money,” Meecham said. “I don’t want to keep it. I hardly know Loftus, he isn’t my client and I’m not taking any fee for this trip.”
She was watching him suspiciously. “You must have had some reason for coming.”
“Put it down to curiosity. Anyway I came, I accomplished nothing...”
“You found her and brought her home. That’s a lot and I’m grateful. But I know what you’re going to say about the money and the answer is no. I won’t keep it for her.”
“It was just a passing thought,” Meecham said dryly.
“Why should I keep it — and dole it out to her in dimes and quarters, have her come wheedling...? No. I won’t. Take it back to Earl. Or send it to her a little at a time so at least she won’t starve.”
“Is her rent paid?”
“Up to the new year.”
“I’ll pay you for January then, and give you some extra to keep her in food.”
“Earl pays her rent.”
“He won’t be paying it from now on.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
Meecham told her, while she stood resting the tray on the railing of the banister. She didn’t express shock and incredulity as he expected her to and as the other people had who knew Loftus.
When he had finished she said, quietly, “Did you tell her?”
“I tried to. She went to sleep.”
“It’s just as well.”
“She has to know sometime. It’s probably written up in your own newspaper tonight.”
“Maybe. I haven’t looked at it yet.” She sighed and turned away. “I’ll tell her myself, tomorrow.”
“She may take it hard.”
“You think so, do you? Well, you’re wrong. She’s not human any more. She’s like one of those things you see at a carnival, pickled in a bottle. I don’t know why I try to keep her alive.” She looked down at the tray grimly. “I don’t know why.”
Meecham took a hundred dollars out of the envelope, and put it on the tray.
“I’ll give you a receipt,” Mrs. Garino said. “If you’ll wait a minute.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s a funny way to do business.”
“This isn’t exactly business.” It’s not business, he thought, it’s life; and it’s not money that’s involved, but human beings. The dainty sandwich with its radish rose couldn’t have been bought for a thousand dollars.
15
The following morning Meecham reached his office a little after ten o’clock. The secretary whose services he shared with the two senior partners in the firm was behind her typewriter, a thin, stringy-haired, vivacious girl with glasses.
She looked at him with highly exaggerated surprise. “My goodness, it’s Mr. Meecham. I hardly recognized you, it’s been so long.”
“I’m a little too tired for banter this morning, Mrs. Christy.”
“Wild night?”
“Pretty wild.”
“At your age. Well. Here’s the score board. Mr. Cranston is howling mad because his wife bought an antique highboy, and Mr. Post just went home with a migraine because the Doretto case has been dismissed. And there’s a girl waiting in your office, a blonde.”
“Who’s the girl?”
“A Miss Dwyer. She’s been waiting nearly an hour. I gave her a copy of Fortune to read. She looked like the intellectual type.”
“She’s not.”
He opened the opaque glass door of his office. It had his name on it, Eric J. Meecham, in firm black letters, and whenever he saw it he felt a little firmer himself, sharp and clear around the edges.
His office was small and overfurnished, but it had a wide window with a leather-covered seat as long as a couch, where you could sit and watch the street, five stories below, or the sky, a stone’s throw away.
Alice was watching the street, her chin cupped in her hand. The morning sun had turned her hair to tinsel, and Meecham wondered whether she bleached it a little. The thought of the small deception pleased him. It seemed to him charming and feminine for a woman to improve on nature.
“Hello.”
She jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice and made a motion to get up.
“No, don’t move,” Meecham said. “You look pretty.”
“Do I?”
“I should hire you to come and sit there by the hour.”
She gazed at him, unsmiling. “I wish you wouldn’t say smooth things to me.”
“Why not?”
“It puts me off, makes me feel that you’re ordinary. Anyone can be smooth, it’s just words.”
“You’re cross because I kept you waiting.”
“I guess,” she said. “A little.”
He sat down beside her on the window seat. “You shouldn’t be.”
“I kept listening for you so hard, I... well, that’s a bad sign, isn’t it?”
“Very bad.”
He took both her hands and held them against his chest. They looked down at the street together, remote and serene, like angels on a cloud.
Alice stirred finally. “Naturally it isn’t going to work out.”
“Naturally. What isn’t?”
“You know. Even if you feel the same way as I do. Everything’s against it. I don’t like the town and the climate’s terrible and I’m so far from home. And then you’re not very young any more and they say the older a man gets the less adjustable he is to marriage. Naturally it won’t work out.”
“Naturally.”
“You don’t have to keep repeating that word.”
“I’m agreeing with you. You’re such a sensible young woman, I have to. Of course, there are a few other points you didn’t mention. You can’t cook, for one thing. And you bleach your hair.”
“How did you know? Anyway, just a little bit.”
“Also my great-uncle James was a crackpot. I don’t own a house. I haven’t much money, and...”
“Oh, Meecham.”
“Have I forgotten anything?”
“Oh, Meecham, I love you.”
“At this point I think I might kiss you, if I didn’t have one foot in the grave.”
“I didn’t say you had one foot in the grave. I said you weren’t very young and adjustable and...”
“I accept the apology.”
He took her in his arms and kissed her for a long time, feeling that he had never kissed a girl before, it was so strange and perfect.
She looked very solemn. “I will love you forever, Meecham.”
“You’d better... Are you happy?”
She shook her head.
“Well, for Christ’s sake,” he said helplessly. “Why not?”
“I’m just not, that’s all. I feel awful.”
“Well, for...”
“I can’t help it. All that sweet stuff that’s been written about love, and this is how I feel, just plain awful. I ache, and my insides are hollow as if I could eat forever, only nothing fills me up and the sight of food makes me sick. I’ll probably starve to death. I’m too thin anyway.”