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Show 209 "Ho, ho, very funny. There speaks rural America, doesn't like poppyseed. Jack Armstrong, virgin avenger." "God damn it, Fran," said Ben, "will you put that robe on!" She did, cinching up the belt and grinning at me. On her way out she patted my cheek: "While I'm gone, lover, peel me a grape." I had to close the door after her. "She needs her butt smacked." "You'll never get a better chance. My god, in the daytime she's all mouth. Talk or food. You're sure you're not interested in her?" "You keep her. She's so convenient. Inexpensive, warm for the coming winter. Does it matter if she's plain as a post?" He groaned. "Does it matter if she goes to the U.T. and tells everybody just how you two do it?" He groaned. "Does it matter if there's no person in the world that Amelia finds more offensive?" He smacked his forehead. "Be a buddy, take her." "How much would it cost me? What would you charge me to take her off your hands? Out of your bed? Can I afford to do you anymore favors?" He looked hurt. We ate grapes, spitting out seeds. The day before when he had come into my room, wrinkling his nose at the smell, I had told him I wanted another room, an outside room. He promised that the next vacancy was mine. "Yeah, for how much? Eighteen a week?" He looked hurt. "I wouldn't raise your rent." "Everybody else pays six. With daylight and fresh air." He looked hurt. I could see him just deciding it: "That's what I came to tell you, I'm cutting your rent in half." He/fjrobably came to raise it. "For the best room in the place? The most private? The darkest?" He looked hurt. "Somebody had to pay Vanderveer's rent." |