“I’m going to make a telephone call. Where is the nearest place with a phone?”
“Come to Bill Grey’s restaurant. They keep it very cool. I generally spend my mornings there drinking like a fish. By the time it’s noon I’m cockeyed drunk. I shock the tourists. I’m half Irish and half Javanese. They make bets about what I am. Whoever wins has to buy me a drink. Guess how old I am.”
“God knows,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
“Well, I’m sixteen.”
“Very possible,” said Mrs. Copperfield. The girl seemed peeved. They walked in silence to Bill Grey’s restaurant, where the girl pushed Mrs. Copperfield through the door and along the floor towards a table in the middle of the restaurant.
“Sit down and order whatever you like. It’s on me,” said the girl.
There was an electric fan whirling above their heads.
“Isn’t it delicious in here?” she said to Mrs. Copperfield.
“Let me make my phone call,” said Mrs. Copperfield, who was terrified lest Mr. Copperfield should have come in a few hours ago and be waiting impatiently for her call even at this very moment.
“Make all the phone calls you like,” said the girl.
Mrs. Copperfield went into the booth and phoned her husband. He said that he had arrived a short time ago, and that he would have breakfast and join her afterwards at Bill Grey’s. He sounded cold and tired.
The girl, while waiting anxiously for her return, had ordered two old-fashioneds. Mrs. Copperfield came back to the table and flopped into her seat.
“I never can sleep late in the mornings,” said the girl. “I don’t even like to sleep at night if I have anything better to do. My mother told me that I was as nervous as a cat, but very healthy. I went to dancing school but I was too lazy to learn the steps.”
“Where do you live?” asked Mrs. Copperfield.
“I live alone in a hotel. I’ve got plenty of money. A man in the Army is in love with me. He’s married but I never go with anyone else. He gives me plenty of money. He’s even got more money at home. I’ll buy you what you want. Don’t tell anyone around here, though, that I’ve got money to spend on other people. I never buy them anything. They give me a pain. They live such terrible lives. So cheap; so stupid; so very stupid! They don’t have any privacy. I have two rooms. You can use one of them if you like.”
Mrs. Copperfield said she wouldn’t need to, very firmly. She wasn’t fond of this girl in the least.
“What is your name?” the girl asked her.
“Frieda Copperfield.”
“My name is Peggy — Peggy Gladys. You looked kind of adorable to me with your hair all wet and your little nose as shiny as it was. That’s why I asked you to drink with me.”
Mrs. Copperfield jumped. “Please don’t embarrass me,” she said.
“Oh, let me embarrass you, adorable. Now finish your drink and I’ll get you some more. Maybe you’re hungry and would like some steak.”
The girl had the bright eyes of an insatiable nymphomaniac. She wore a ridiculous little watch on a black ribbon around her wrist.
“I live at the Hotel de las Palmas,” said Mrs. Copperfield. “I am a friend of the manager there, Mrs. Quill, and one of her guests, Pacifica.”
“That’s no good, that hotel,” said Peggy. “I went in there with some fellows for drinks one night and I said to them: ‘If you don’t turn right around and leave this hotel, I’ll never allow you to take me out again.’ It’s a cheap place; awful place; it’s filthy dirty besides. I’m surprised at you living there. My hotel is much nicer. Some Americans stay there when they come off the boat if they don’t go to the Hotel Washington. It’s the Hotel Granada.”
“Yes, that is where we were staying originally,” said Mrs. Copperfield. “My husband is there now. I think it is the most depressing place I have ever set foot in. I think the Hotel de las Palmas is a hundred million times nicer.”
“But,” said the girl, opening her mouth wide in dismay, “I think you have not looked very carefully. I’ve put all my own things around in my room of course, and that makes a lot of difference.”
“How long have you been living there?” asked Mrs. Copperfield. She was completely puzzled by this girl and a little bit sorry for her.
“I have been living there for a year and a half. It seems like a lifetime. I moved in a little while after I met the man in the Army. He’s very nice to me. I think I’m smarter than he is. That’s because I’m a girl. Mother told me that girls were never dumb like men, so I just go ahead and do whatever I think is right.”
The girl’s face was elfin and sweet. She had a cleft chin and a small snub-nose.
“Honestly,” she said, “I’ve got lots of money. I can always get more. I’d love to get you anything you like, because I love the way you talk and look and the way you move; you’re elegant.” She giggled and put her own dry rough hand in Mrs. Copperfield’s.
“Please,” she said, “be friendly to me. I don’t often see people I like. I never do the same thing twice, really I don’t. I haven’t asked anyone up to my rooms in the longest while because I’m not interested and because they get everything so dirty. I know you wouldn’t get everything dirty because I can tell that you come from a nice class of people. I love people with a good education. I think it’s wonderful.”
“I have so much on my mind,” said Mrs. Copperfield. “Generally I haven’t.”
“Well, forget it,” said the young girl imperiously. “You’re with Peggy Gladys and she’s paying for your drinks. Because she wants to pay for your drinks with all her heart. It’s such a beautiful morning. Cheer up!” She took Mrs. Copperfield by the sleeve and shook her.
Mrs. Copperfield was still deep in the magic of her dream and in thoughts of Pacifica. She was uneasy and the electric fan seemed to blow directly on her heart. She sat staring ahead of her, not listening to a word the girl was saying.
She could not tell how long she had been dreaming when she looked down and saw a lobster lying on a plate in front of her.
“Oh,” she said, “I can’t eat this. I can’t possibly eat this.”
“But I ordered it for you,” said Peggy, “and there is some beer coming along. I had your old-fashioned taken away because you weren’t touching it.” She leaned across the table and tucked Mrs. Copperfield’s napkin under her chin.
“Please eat, dearest,” said Peggy, “you’ll give me such great pleasure if you do.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” said Mrs. Copperfield fretfully. “Playing house?”
Peggy laughed.
“You know,” said Mrs. Copperfield, “my husband is coming here to join us. He’ll think we’re both stark raving mad to be eating lobster in the morning. He doesn’t understand such things.”
“Well, let’s eat it up quickly, then,” said Peggy. She looked wistfully at Mrs. Copperfield. “I wish he wasn’t coming,” she said. “Couldn’t you telephone him and tell him not to come?”
“No, my dear, that would be impossible. Besides, I don’t have any reason to tell him not to come. I am very anxious to see him.” Mrs. Copperfield could not resist being just a little bit sadistic with Peggy Gladys.
“Of course you want to see him,” said Peggy, looking very shy and demure. “I’ll be quiet while he’s here, I’ll promise you.”
“That’s just what I don’t want you to do. Please continue to prattle when he’s here.”
“Of course, darling. Don’t be so nervous.”
Mr. Copperfield arrived as they were eating their lobster. He was wearing a dark green suit and looking extremely well. He came over to them smiling pleasantly.
“Hello,” said Mrs. Copperfield. “I’m very glad to see you. You look very well. This is Peggy Gladys; we’ve just met.”