“He’ll be all right,” he replied quickly. “I’ll take care of of him all right.”
“Thanks.” I climbed into my car beside the girl. The rain I had been trying to get to town ahead of was beginning to fall. A coupe with a man and a woman in it passed us going toward town. We followed the coupe across the bridge.
The girl said, “This is awfully kind of you. I wasn’t in any danger back there, but it was — nasty.”
“They wouldn’t be dangerous,” I said, “but they would be — nasty.”
“You know them?”
“No.”
“But they knew you. Tony Forrest and Fred Barnes.” When I did not say anything, she added, “They were afraid of you.”
“I’m a desperate character.”
She laughed. “And pretty nice of you, too, tonight. I wouldn’t’ve gone with either of them alone, but I thought with two of them …” She turned up the collar of her coat. “It’s raining in on me.”
I stopped the roadster again and hunted for the curtain that belonged on her side of the car. “So your name’s Jack Bye,” she said while I was snapping it on.
“And yours is Helen Warner.”
“How’d you know?” She had straightened her hat.
“I’ve seen you around.” I finished attaching the curtain and got back in.
“Did you know who I was when I called to you?” she asked when we were moving again.
“Yes.”
“It was silly of me to go out with them like that.”
“You’re shivering.”
“It’s chilly.”
I said I was sorry my flask was empty.
We had turned into the western end of Hellman Avenue. It was four minutes past ten by the clock in front of the jewelry store on the corner of Laurel Street. A policeman in a black rubber coat was leaning against the
clock. I did not know enough about perfumes to know the name of hers.
She said, “I’m chilly. Can’t we stop somewhere and get a
drink?”
“Do you really want to?” My voice must have puzzled her; she turned her head quickly to peer at me in the dim
light.
“I’d like to,” she said, “unless you’re in a hurry.”
“No. We could go to Mack’s. It’s only three or four
blocks from here, but — it’s a nigger joint.”
She laughed. “All I ask is that I don’t get poisoned.” “You won’t, but you’re sure you want to go?” “Certainly.” She exaggerated her shivering. “I’m cold.
It’s early.”
Toots Mack opened his door for us. I could tell by the politeness with which he bowed his round bald black head and said, “Good evening, sir; good evening, madam,” that he wished we had gone some place else, but I was not especially interested in how he felt about it. I said, “Hello, Toots; how are you this evening?” too cheerfully.
There were only a few customers in the place. We went to the table in the corner farthest from the piano. Suddenly she was staring at me, her eyes, already very blue, becoming very round.
“I thought you could see in the car,” I began.
“How’d you get that scar?” she asked, interrupting me.
She sat down.
“That.” I put a hand to my cheek. “Fight — couple of years ago. You ought to see the one on my chest.”
“We’ll have to go swimming some time,” she said gayly.
“Please sit down and don’t keep me waiting for my drink.”
“Are you sure you —”
She began to chant, keeping time with her fingers on the table, “I want a drink, I want a drink, I want a drink.” Her mouth was small with full lips and it curved up without growing wider when she smiled.
We ordered drinks. We talked too fast. We made jokes and laughed too readily at them. We asked questions — about the name of the perfume she used was one —and paid too much or no attention to the answers. And Toots looked glumly at us from behind the bar when he thought we were hot looking at him. It was all pretty bad.
We had another drink and I said, “Well, let’s slide along.”
She was nice about seeming neither too anxious to go nor to stay. The ends of her pale blonde hair curled up over the edge of her hat in back.