"Maybe. Goodbye."
* * * * *
Frank Brooks walked north on Clark Street. He was glad to get away from
the restaurant. Nora was a good kid but hell--you didn't take up with a
hooker. A guy played around, but you didn't stick with them.
But it made a guy think. He was past the kid stage. It was time for him
to find a girl and settle down. A guy didn't want to knock around all
his life.
* * * * *
Nora walked west on Madison Street. Then she remembered the Halstead
Street slums were in that direction and turned south on Wells. She had
nine dollars in her bag and that worried her. You couldn't get along on
nine dollars in Chicago very long.
There was a tavern on Jackson near Wells. Nora went inside. The barkeep
didn't frown at her. That was good. She went to the bar and ordered a
beer and was served.
After a while a man came in. A middle aged man who might have just come
into Chicago--whose bags might still be at the LaSalle Street Station
down the block. The man looked at Nora, then away. After a while looked
at her again.
Nora smiled.