He was so plastered that he didn't care if I was going to commit suicide. “Don't be hard on her,” he said, screwing up his eyes. “She looks a swell girl.”
I signalled to Mardi that I'd meet her downstairs. I didn't want Dawn to arrive just as we were going. I need not have worried my head about her. She had passed out under the kitchen table.
Five minutes later Mardi came running down the stairs. She wore a perky little hat and a nice fur coat. She looked good.
We didn't have to wait long before a taxi crawled by. I waved and he pulled up at the kerb. “Where shall I tell him?” I asked.
She hesitated. Then she said: “I—I haven't got a home any more... do you think I could put up at a hotel or somewhere?”
I gaped at her. “Have you got any luggage?”
She nodded. “It's at the station,” she said. “I could go there first and collect it, but I want to catch an early train.”
I said: “If I suggest you come back to my place, I want you to know that I don't mean anything wrong. I just offer you my roof and hope you will accept it.”
She stood looking into my face for several seconds, then she said: “Thank you. It's nice of you.”
Hardly believing that I had heard correctly, I handed her into the taxi.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ON THE SHORT TRIP from Hughson's apartment to my place we didn't say a word. It was incredible to me that she was sitting by my side, willing to share my rooms with me, and I'd only known her for such a short time.
When a girl shows such willingness, I'm usually sure that I'm on to a good thing. With Mardi it was different. There was something about her that built up a surrounding wall that protected her from any mean thoughts that might come her way. I'm not going to say that every guy wouldn't try to make a pass, but as far as I was concerned she got me like that.
She sat quietly in the corner of the taxi and looked out of the window. Every now and then, when we passed a street light, I could see her clearly. With that perky little hat on her head and the fur collar tight at her throat, she looked swell.
We got to my apartment and I paid off the taxi.
Quietly we crept up the stairs. I was nervous of the guy opposite me, but as it was getting on for two o'clock I guessed he'd be asleep.
We got into my apartment without disturbing any one. I shut the door, turned on the light and tossed my hat on the settee.
“Whew!” I said. “I was sure gettin' the jitters comin' up the stairs.”
She stood looking round the room. “But it's nice,” she said. “What a lot of books you have... and isn't that cute?”
She went over to examine my miniature bar in the corner. We both kept our voices low like two conspirators. I wandered over and got behind the counter. “What would you like?” I said. “Suppose we have some rye and ginger... it's grand stuff to sleep on.”
She again looked at me. I could see she was just a little doubtful of me: not scared, but not quite sure.
I grinned at her. “Baby,” I said, “you don't have to worry about me. I know what you're thinkin' but you can forget it. With another dame, yes, but with you, no. I guess you would never have come here if you didn't want some help bad... well, I want to help, an' there won't be a cheque comin' in.”
When I said that, she relaxed. She said: “Make it a very small rye and a lot of ginger.”
While I was fixing the drinks, she went over and sat in the big armchair. It was one of those chairs that give to the floor. From where I was standing I could see the top of her hat and a lot of her legs. She opened the fur coat and draped it over the side of the chair.
It was chilly, so I switched on the little electric stove I used between the periods when the steam heat was off and the evenings got cold.
I came over with the drinks and gave her one of the glasses. Then, leaning against the mantelshelf, I nodded to her over the rim. “Safe landin',” I said, and we drank.
She lay back in the armchair, holding the glass in one hand, and for a minute shut her eyes. I didn't hurry her. I guessed she wanted to get her facts together, and I was happy enough to stand and watch her.
“All right. You're goin' to have it. If you're in a jam, you don't have to get scared. We'll work it out together.”
“Why, Mr. Mason, are you doing this for me?”
With an opening like that I wasn't going to act the village hick. “Because I'm crazy about you,” I said. “You're the first girl I've met that I can look at and talk to without wondering if I could take you for a ride. You're the first girl I've met who's got everything and yet... and yet... oh, hell! I can't explain it... but, you've got me jumping through hoops....”
This outburst startled her all right. She tried to struggle out of the chair.
