— Jack this is enough, if you…
— Will you let me out here then?
— Don’t be ridiculous but stop…
— But what’s the matter? I quote a prominent churchman on hairy diadems when you bring out a snapshot of one, nicest name for it I could think of offhand and you almost throw me through the… a horn sounded, — look out!
— Well what are you doing this for!
— Because I don’t believe this is the reason Norman hit you.
— What do you mean now.
— I mean you’ve been saying twenty-three I think and didn’t Father give you some shares and you know God damned well it was five, you know twenty-five plus five is thirty which is more than twenty-three and more than twenty-seven…
— Jack you…
— But Norman’s twenty-three plus five would be twenty-eight which is more than your aunts’ twenty-seven and more than your twenty-five well you didn’t have to bother Stella, I haven’t got the God damned five shares.
— But you said…
— I said it was in a shirt drawer and I took it out of the shirt drawer and right now I don’t know who the hell has it, can you just pull over up here and let me out?
— Jack please, please stop being ridiculous you…
— No I mean it, Stella for you lying is just a practical way of handling things, remember how cheerfully you used to lie to your father when we, when there wasn’t even any real reason to? You just need somebody to lie to.
A horn sounded behind as the car slowed sharply and bumped over a low curb onto grass. — I don’t know where you think you’re going.
— I’ll get over the fence there and find a subway try to make the last race, that’s why you married Norman isn’t it, find somebody that God damned decent he deserves to be lied to Stella I’ll bet you haven’t been really laid since the day I met you again on that train platform…
Horns sounded as the door slammed and the wheels dropped to the pavement where she turned without a look back, pressing the dark glasses close against her face, over rises and down, through the tunnel and up the dim arcade along the river, dim as the rooms she moved among lighting lamps under opaque shades, dropping the bag on An Informal Evening at the Juilliard Theater, the glasses beside it, down the hall thrusting away one shoe, the other, a hand behind her coursing down the zipper as the other sought among robes for the robe fallen open from her where she bent over the basin to bring her eye close to the mirror when the doorbell rang and she caught it closed, caught up the dark glasses passing the table and had them on when she reached up to put the chain in place before she opened the chain’s hand’s breadth, — Oh!… and she closed it to slip the chain off again, and draw it wide. — But you should be in Palma…
— Oh I know darling, they ran out of electricity or something and the whole thing was canceled. Like here, you always have it so dark I don’t know how you find your way.
— I know it by heart, she led in, paused at a sofa, — do you want anything? before she sank down.
— Nothing, no, a cigarette? Oh, in your bag? Let me…
— No I’ll get it, she started up, arched over the sofa’s arm to reach for it.
— Oh and you heard his concert, did you like it?
— Yes all but the Berg, she said getting the package out, and a lipstick rolled to the carpet where she left it, snapped the bag closed and dropped it over the sofa’s back.
— Yes I can’t stand Berg too. But how nice to find you, I called and of course you didn’t answer, I was sure you are entertaining. Is this an ashtray?
— Yes, but how mean.
— Not mean at all darling, would you lie to me? The one Wednesday night at Elaine’s with all the marvelous chains…
— No please… She pressed the glasses back to her face.
— But I only wanted to see, it’s almost gone?
— I don’t want you to see… she moved her head for the finger tracing a strand fallen loose on the slope of her shoulder. — I don’t want anyone to.
— But you should know better darling, you read all the statistics of accidents in the bath, I can’t look?
— No no one, it’s too ugly.
— How can something about you be ugly?
— Even this…? and the robe fell open where she raised her throat to the light.
— Even this, this is precious! There is never such a necklace, how many times do I tell you? Wait let me show you, in pale rubies how precious…
— No… her hand came up to the pendant already half fashioned there in lipstick, — no I don’t like it touched.
— I might steal it? like Brin, what did you tell me, the name your terrible friend told you for it once?
— Bris… she caught breath as breath stirred a strand at her ear, — Brisingamen… as the lipstick lingered along her breast.
— But a goddess of love and beauty he told you? Then he was not so terrible to say that.
— He was terrible, she said, the lipstick mounting in slow circles to fleck quick as lashes where its color gathered in the pebbling peak.
— Wait be still or I spoil my work, no don’t look yet.
— Always terrible, she said near a whisper, robe fallen away now where the lipstick came down in a flourish to slow and shade a heart on the clear rise and fall of the soft swell, suddenly shot through with an arrow down, and she started.
— Now, you must see how gay, look! You must come next time like this, they will be enchanted, would you?
— Don’t be… she broke off, looking down her, — of course not, how silly you are.
— You don’t see, is it not like a cat with one large eye?
— How silly.
— No, silly no. Look, how he aims to hide deep in the bush, may I seek him?
— Silly.
— It is nice too, the lipstick. Is it Lanvin?
— Oh…? The telephone rang. — Do Lanvin make lipstick…? and she lay a hand over her darkened eyes.
It rang again, and then again, a long ring.
— They don’t answer Mister Angel.
— Hell I told you she wouldn’t Coen, even if she’s there, just forget it Myrna. I don’t know what help you think she’d be if she did answer.
— I would like to clarify her position on…
— Well she’s sure as hell not going to help you, anything you come up with she’s got so many positions she could go get a job in the carnival, Myrna why don’t you just go take a coffee break or something, I can buzz for you on the buzzer when I need you back. Mister Coen and me have to sit down to these figures for a while… he loomed behind her, pent by her short steps as far as a cabinet just inside the door. — Little bourbon here to clear our heads before we dive in.
— Oh no not for me.
— Just got these put in… he was bent over pulling at the cabinet door — pretty shoddy job too, he yanked at it, — supposed to look like this modern paneling so there’s no place you can hardly get a grip…
— Be careful the whole thing’s tipping…
— Might be better if it did, I wouldn’t have to… go through this every time I… now, where’d she do with those Dixie cups.
— You’ve changed your scenery since I…
— Well you can see we didn’t but just get started, those new drapes instead of the old curtains we had over there, I put that big old chair and that old coat rack down in the basement… he paused, bent over pouring into two paper cups, — but you know what they want now for a sofa out of leather?
— Oh, no what I meant was…
— Even thought of getting that music they play in banks and elevators piped in, he turned walking carefully and set one of the paper cups on the corner of the desk. — But you know what they want for that?