OCR Text |
Show 253 He kept his eyes on the traffic, he didn't look at her. "All day I've been thinking: if I was a millionaire, what would I do?" She almost laughed then, at his seriousness. But she did not, he would never have forgiven her. "Stupid, huh?" he said sensing her response. "But you know what? Everybody would look at me in a different way. I wouldn't be old Roger Green. Good old Roger Green." She hadn't suspected that he felt this way. "I didn't know you wanted to be a millionaire. You never said anything about that before." He laughed; it was not his usual hollow boom-this carried a note of bitterness. "I don't. Or that is, I don't want to give up my life for it. I've got something better to do." And that was, she knew, to be an actor. A good one. She respected that in him. "But that's not the point, really," he said. "Take you, for instance-I'm not trying to be cruel, just honest-if I was a millionaire, you wouldn't feel the same way about me." "Oh, this is just a silly game." She was suddenly irritated with him. He was a child, really. "I know it is," he said, "But let's play it for a little while." She didn't say anything. "If I was worth a million bucks-today, right at this minute- you'd look at me differently. You'd think I was really something. Think about it." "This is silly." "I know it is. But just supposing. If I had a million dollars, |