couldn't be sure of it, but she seemed to be dressed the same as she had been the last time he'd seen her.
She turned around suddenly, surprising him in his looking. She said, 'Yes? Something on your mind, Dusty?' And he hastily shook his head.
'I was just wondering about your clothes. I mean, you'll be here for some time and…'
'Oh,' she shrugged. 'Well, I'll pick my baggage up in a day or two. It wasn't convenient this morning.'
She set the coffee on the table, and sat down across from him. Hand trembling a little, he lifted the cup. Reaction was setting in; he at last felt surprise – wonder at this incredibly wondrous happening. She was actually here! They were really together. And, of course, he had known that they would be, but now that they were…
He had to put down the coffee cup. Fingers fumbling, he managed to light a cigarette and hold a match for hers. She smiled sympathetically, steadying his hand with her own.
'You don't have your strength back yet, Dusty. Why don't you lie down for a while?'
'I'm all right. We've got a lot to talk about, and-'
'You can lie down and talk. Come on, now, before you wear yourself out completely.'
She guided him into his bedroom. He stretched out on the bed, and she sat down at his side.
'Well, Dusty…' She smoothed the hair back from his forehead. 'You didn't seem very surprised to see me today.'
'I wasn't. I was pretty sure you must be working with Tug.'
'You were? And how did that make you feel about me, Dusty, about being tricked into -?'
'It didn't change anything. I figured you were probably in the same boat I was in. You were on a spot, and you had to follow orders.'
'did you, Dusty?' She squeezed his hand. 'I'm glad you understood. Some day I'll tell you how it was, but-'
'It doesn't matter – nothing mattered but you. Right from the first time I saw you.'
The statement sounded awkwardly blunt, a little ridiculous. But she smiled gravely, obviously pleased.
'I'm glad, Dusty. Because, you see… well, I rather felt the same way. It was the way you acted, I guess, as though you'd been waiting for me, expecting me. I felt like you were someone I'd known a long time ago, and – Oh, I don't know,' she laughed. 'Anyway, I don't suppose a girl should admit such things, should she?'
'Yes!' he exclaimed. 'I mean – I don't mean you should -'
'I know what you mean, Dusty. I know.'
She bent down, pressing her mouth against his. Then, as his arms went around her, she slid firmly out of his embrace.
'Not now, darling. I hope there will be more later – a great deal more.' But, now, I don't know.'
'But why?' He started to sit up, and she pushed him back down.' 'You said you liked me, felt the same way as I did. I'll have plenty of' money, and-'
'The money isn't too important to me, Dusty. Not nearly as much, I'm afraid, as it is to you. I like it, yes, but I've never had a great deal and I've gotten along all right without it. I could keep right on getting along without it. I wonder if you could.'
'But I – we won't have to!'
'Won't we? That money won't last forever, no more than ten, years, say, if we're only mildly extravagant. What would you do when it's gone?'
'Well, I-' He shook his head impatiently. 'What would anyone:
do? Marcia, I-'
'Not anyone. You. I'm quite a bit older than you are, Dusty. I won't be young ten years from now, but you will. How would you feel then – broke and saddled with a middle-aged woman? What would you do about it?'
'What?' he frowned. 'I – look, Marcia. I want you to marry me not just-'
'I hoped you did. But that still doesn't answer my question. What happens when my looks are gone, and the money's gone? Would there still be something left for you, something more important than money or appearances? I'd have to be sure of that, Dusty. I have to know you better than I do now.'
'I… I don't know what you mean,' he said slowly. 'I don't see what you're driving at.'
'Murder, mainly. Murderers. If a man kills to get himself out of one unpleasant situation, he'll do it again.'
She nodded calmly, staring down at him in the shade-drawn dimness, and a cold chill raced up Dusty's spine. He was suddenly conscious of the room's quiet, of their isolation here.
'B-but-' He gulped. 'But I haven't killed anyone!'
'Not actually, perhaps, but technically. You knew Bascom was going to be killed!'
'But I didn't! Tug didn't tell me a thing about it. He told me – told me that no one would be hurt.'
'And you believed him?'
'Why not? I didn't know anything about things like that. All I knew was that you were in trouble, that you might get killed if I didn't do what Tug told me to.'
'That isn't what you said a moment ago. You said you knew I was working with Tug.'
'Not at the time. Even afterwards, I wasn't positive. I – Who are you to talk, anyway? You got me into the deal. If it hadn't been for you, I-'
'Would it have made any difference, Dusty? You don't think you might have been in it anyway?'
'How could I have been? What do you mean? Dammit' – he sat up, scowling. 'I could ask some questions myself. What about you knowing that Bascom was going to be killed? You quiz me about it when you must have known yourself that-'
'I didn't. If I had, I'd hardly be concerned about your being involved.'
'Well, I didn't know either.'
'I hope not, Dusty. I want to believe that you didn't. So let's not discuss it any more now, shall we not? Give me a little more time, tell me how we're going to get the money out of the hotel, and men – well, we'll see then.'
'But, why? What's there to -?'
'Why not? We'll have to wait anyway. We've just met, supposedly. You'll have to go on working at the hotel'
'Yes, but – but, Marcia…'
He broke off, unable' to say what he had intended to, to point out the incongruity of the situation. She was in this thing as deeply as he, she was closer to Tug apparently than he was. She'd been around – she damned well had to know what the score was. So why then all this squeamishness? Why all the fuss about Bascom's death?
It didn't add up. Even taking that older-than-you-are, what-about-the-future stuff at its face value it didn't fit together. So maybe they had to be careful for a while. Maybe it was logical for her to go slow on tying herself up permanently. But they were alone now, and she'd been around from way back. And yet he couldn't even give her a feel without –
'Oh,' she said, and it was as though he had spoken the thought aloud. 'I see, Dusty, and I don't blame you. I haven't been everything I should be, and-'
'Nuts, nonsense,' he said quickly. 'Now about the money. Come around to the hotel any time after I go on duty, a little after twelve, say. You, want to get something out of a suitcase you've left in the checkroom – a lot of people do that – and-' understand. I supposed you'd do it that way.'
'Well, uh – that's all there is to it, then.'
She nodded, went on looking at him. At last she said absently, 'Perhaps we shouldn't wait. Perhaps it would be better now, since you feel as you do. Since it's so important – or unimportant.'
'Now, wait a minute!' His face flushed. 'I haven't said anything! My God, you can't blame me for wanting to – to-'
'I don't. Nor for thinking what you think.'
She got up and left the room. He heard the front door close, and the snap of the lock, and men she was back again.
She toed off one shoe, then the other. Quite casually, she unfastened the snaps of her dress, slipped it up and over her head. The slip came next. Then – then the other things. All that remained.
And then she stretched out at his side. And waited.
