-
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"Pass the bottle," suggested Nancy. "I'm going to take another little one. A little drink wouldn't hurt a baby.
The Jelly-Bean 50
The Diamond as Big as the Ritz and Other Stories
"You see," she continued, again breathless after a draught. "People over there have style. Nobody has style
here. I mean the boys here aren't really worth dressing up for or doing sensational things for. Don't you
know?"
"I suppose so--I mean I suppose not," murmured Jim.
"And I'd like to do 'em an' all. I'm really the only girl in town that has style."
She stretched out her arms and yawned pleasantly.
"Pretty evening."
"Sure is," agreed Jim.
"Like to have boat," she suggested dreamily. "Like to sail out on a silver lake, say the Thames, for instance.
Have champagne and caviare sandwiches along. Have about eight people. And one of the men would jump
overboard to amuse the party and get drowned like a man did with Lady Diana Manners once."
"Did he do it to please her?"
"Didn't mean drown himself to please her. He just meant to jump overboard and make everybody laugh."
"I reckin they just died laughin' when he drowned."
"Oh, I suppose they laughed a little," she admitted. "I imagine she did, anyway. She's pretty hard, I
guess--like I am."
"You hard?"
"Like nails." She yawned again and added, "Give me a little more from that bottle."
Jim hesitated but she held out her hand defiantly.
"Don't treat me like a girl," she warned him. "I'm not like any girl you ever saw." She considered. "Still,
perhaps you're right. You got--you got old head on young shoulders."
She jumped to her feet and moved toward the door. The Jelly-bean rose also.
"Good-bye," she said politely, "good-bye. Thanks, Jelly-bean."
Then she stepped inside and left him wide-eyed upon the porch.
III
At twelve o'clock a procession of cloaks issued single file from the women's dressing-room and, each one
pairing with a coated beau like dancers meeting in a cotillion figure, drifted through the door with sleepy
happy laughter--through the door into the dark where autos backed and snorted and parties called to one
another and gathered around the water-cooler.
Jim, sitting in his corner, rose to look for Clark. They had met at eleven; then Clark had gone in to dance. So,
seeking him, Jim wandered into the soft-drink stand that had once been a bar. The room was deserted except
The Jelly-Bean 51
The Diamond as Big as the Ritz and Other Stories
for a sleepy negro dozing behind the counter and two boys lazily fingering a pair of dice at one of the tables.
Jim was about to leave when he saw Clark coming in. At the same moment Clark looked up.
"Hi, Jim!" he commanded. "C'mon over and help us with this bottle. I guess there's not much left, but there's
one all around."
Nancy, the man from Savannah, Marylyn Wade, and Joe Ewing were lolling and laughing in the doorway.
Nancy caught Jim's eye and winked at him humorously.
They drifted over to a table and arranging themselves around it waited for the waiter to bring ginger ale. Jim,
faintly ill at ease, turned his eyes on Nancy, who had drifted into a nickel crap game with the two boys at the
next table.
"Bring them over here," suggested Clark.
Joe looked around.
"We don't want to draw a crowd. It's against club rules."
"Nobody's around," insisted Clark, "except Mr. Taylor. He's walking up and down like a wild-man trying to
find out who let all the gasolene out of his car."
There was a general laugh.
"I bet a million Nancy got something on her shoe again. You can't park when she's around."
"O Nancy, Mr. Taylor's looking for you!"
Nancy's cheeks were glowing with excitement over the game. "I haven't seen his silly little flivver in two
weeks."
Jim felt a sudden silence. He turned and saw an individual of uncertain age standing in the doorway.
Clark's voice punctuated the embarrassment.
"Won't you join us, Mr. Taylor?"
"Thanks."
Mr. Taylor spread his unwelcome presence over a chair. "Have to, I guess. I'm waiting till they dig me up
some gasolene. Somebody got funny with my car."
His eyes narrowed and he looked quickly from one to the other. Jim wondered what he had heard from the
doorway--tried to remember what had been said.
"I'm right to-night," Nancy sang out, "and my four bits is in the ring."
"Faded!" snapped Taylor suddenly.
"Why, Mr. Taylor, I didn't know you shot craps!" Nancy was overjoyed to find that he had seated himself and
instantly covered her bet. They had openly disliked each other since the night she had definitely discouraged
The Jelly-Bean 52
The Diamond as Big as the Ritz and Other Stories
a series of rather pointed advances.
"All right, babies, do it for your mamma. Just one little seven." Nancy was cooing to the dice. She rattled
them with a brave underhand flourish, and rolled them out on the table.
"Ah-h! I suspected it. And now again with the dollar up."
Five passes to her credit found Taylor a bad loser. She was making it personal, and after each success Jim
watched triumph flutter across her face. She was doubling with each throw--such luck could scarcely last.
"Better go easy," he cautioned her timidly.
"Ah, but watch this one," she whispered. It was eight on the dice and she called her number.
"Little Ada, this time we're going South."
Ada from Decatur rolled over the table. Nancy was flushed and half-hysterical, but her luck was holding. She
drove the pot up and up, refusing to drag. Taylor was drumming with his fingers on the table, but he was in to
stay.
Then Nancy tried for a ten and lost the dice. Taylor seized them avidly. He shot in silence, and in the hush of
excitement the clatter of one pass after another on the table was the only sound.
Now Nancy had the dice again, but her luck had broken. An hour passed. Back and forth it went. Taylor had
been at it again--and again and again. They were even at last--Nancy lost her ultimate five dollars.
"Will you take my check," she said quickly, "for fifty, and we'll shoot it all?" Her voice was a little unsteady
and her hand shook as she reached to the money.
Clark exchanged an uncertain but alarmed glance with Joe Ewing. Taylor shot again. He had Nancy's check.
"How 'bout another?" she said wildly. "Jes' any bank'll do--money everywhere as a matter of fact."
Jim understood--the "good old corn" he had given her--the "good old corn" she had taken since. He wished
he dared interfere--a girl of that age and position would hardly have two bank accounts. When the clock
struck two he contained himself no longer.
"May I--can't you let me roll 'em for you?" he suggested, his low, lazy voice a little strained.
Suddenly sleepy and listless, Nancy flung the dice down before him.
"All right--old boy! As Lady Diana Manners says, `Shoot 'em, Jelly-bean'--My luck's gone." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- matkadziecka.xlx.pl