She had piled up the sleek filaments of her red-brown hair to keep cool
a graceful neck. She wore a suit of thin cotton--green--and interesting
shoes of a darker green. She came to my quarters laughing amiably. "I'm
very pleased with myself!"
"You should be."
She undid the catch of her jacket and took it off. The green blouse
beneath was little more than a broad brassière--a sensible and summery
thing that left bare a midsection of smooth, sunburned abdomen and rib.
"It was my idea to call you up," she said.
"Which pleases me with you."
She sat down near the window, hopeful a breeze might come through it.
Her eyes rested on mine with gay attentiveness. "It's terribly slow at
Hat's," she said. "It has been--all month."
"Everybody," I said, "is out of town."
"Leaving nobody home to go out of the world with. Desolating!"
"I've got some Scotch--soda--"
"Weak," she said, "and lots of ice."
I mixed the drink. While I was doing it, she saw the manuscript in work
and went over to the bridge table. She read a few lines. "It sounds
amusing," she said.
"It did to me--the first time through. And the second time--when I
corrected it. Right now, I'm cutting it, and my own jokes are a little
less than fresh." I handed her the tall glass. "Too bad we don't have
airconditioning here at the Astolat."
"I like heat waves. Besides--I spent the afternoon in an
air-conditioned apartment. I'm all cooled off for the weekend."
"If you change your mind--we'll find a chilled spot later."
"Then I'll change it--" she looked across the glass-rim--"later. I
was over at the apartment of a girl named Charmaine. Used to work for
Hattie--and then became the friend of a lad who died and left her
millions."
"Nice gal?"
Gwen said, with a quick, small indrawn breath, "Darling!" Then she
glanced at me again--and flushed.
"Hattie told me all about Charmaine," I said.
"It--it--only makes me want a man--!" She was afraid I'd be indignant,
or perhaps disgusted. "That's true! In fact--that's what Charmaine
tries--to do. She likes to make people all hot and bothered. She--!"
The girl was embarrassed--and yet _remembering_, at the same time. The
glass tilted a little in her hand. I went over to her and touched her.
"Didn't they tell you about me?"