Get a Load of This

     Manuel looked at him sharply. “It depends,” he said. “It depends on what you want. Now, there's a fine show at the 'Hot-Spot'. You ought to see that. I went last night. Mind you, I've seen a lot of that kind of stuff, but this is the tops. You can have my word for it, you didn't ought to miss it.”

     The tall, thin man tapped the ash of his cigarette. “I've seen it,” he said briefly. “It's not bad. No, I'd say it's not bad at all.”

     Manuel selected another glass. “That dame with the chest,” he said, rolling his eyes a little. “You know the one I mean.”

     “Did you find her amusing?”

     “Amusing?” Manuel paused. “That ain't quite the word, is it? Amusing? No, I wouldn't call it that. That's the kind of a dame that spoils married life. Comes a trifle flat to get home after seeing a dame like that.”

     The tall, thin man winced. He finished up his whisky and ordered another.

     Manuel went on: “When you see a hot number like her, it makes you wonder what sort of a life she leads off the stage. Maybe she's married. She might have a flock of kids. She might sleep with anyone. You don't know, do you?”

     “It's a great mistake to enquire into that kind of a person's life. They're making money because the people who pay to see them regard them as something totally unlike themselves. They are the escape valve of the public.”

     Manuel nodded. “Yeah, that's right, but I don't kid myself.” He had to go away to serve two elderly women, and when he got back again he said: “There's a good fight on tonight. I can let you have a ticket if you fancied it.”

     The tall, thin man shook his head. “Not tonight. I'm waiting for someone. Maybe some other night. I like a good fight.”

     “Yeah?” Manuel's face brightened. “So do I. I like a good fight too. There has been some pretty bum shows recently. Did you see McCoy give up in the sixth?”

     “Yes.”

     “Why did he do that, do you think?”

     “They say he was scared, but it wasn't that. He had something on his mind. It must be tough going into the ring with something bad on your mind. The public don't care. All they want to see is a fight. It doesn't matter how much trouble you've got, you've got to leave it outside. Well, I guess McCoy took it in with him.”

     Manuel regarded the tall, thin man thoughtfully. “You reckon that's what the trouble was, do you?” he said.

     “Of course. It couldn't have been anything else. McCoy isn't yellow. He wasn't getting the breaks.”

     Manuel, who didn't miss anything, said: “You'll pardon me, but are you waiting for a lady?”

     The tall, thin man played with his glass, his eyes went frosty. “Curiosity?” he said.

     Manuel put down the glass he was polishing. He jerked his head. “Some lady's lookin' for someone,” he said. “I thought maybe it was you.”

     The tall, thin man looked over his shoulder. “You're quite remarkable,” he said, and beckoned to the girl who stood just inside the doorway.

     She came across slowly. Manuel watched her, without appearing to. During his stay at the 'Roney Plaza' he had seen so many women that his standard of what was good had become exceedingly high. This girl was interesting. She was interesting in a ripe sort of a way. She had a lazy, sensuous walk, and her big blue eyes looked sleepy. Her mouth was wide and very red. She wore a black dress that emphasized her breasts and hips without being tight on her body. Manuel thought she looked like a very beautiful genteel whore.

     She said to the tall, thin man, “Hello, Harry.”

     He got off the stool and touched her fingers. There was a tense eager tightening of his face muscles.

     “Come and have a drink,” he said. “Do you like these stools, or would you rather sit at a table?”

     She gave her answer by climbing up and perching herself on the stool.

     He said, “You're looking very, very beautiful.”

     “Every time we meet you tell me that. Is it for something to say, or do you feel so strongly about it?”

     He climbed up on the stool beside her. “I want to talk to you.”

     “Can't I have something to drink? Is it so urgent that I can't be asked what I should like?”

     He looked at her, his eyes angry. “I'm sorry.” He nodded to Manuel, who came down to them, then he said, “What are you drinking?”

     She turned her attention to Manuel. First, she gave him a very bright smile. It was a smile that unsettled Manuel's calm. He felt an urge to reach forward and pull her across the bar towards him. This urge so startled him that he became very confused. He stood looking at her uneasily.

     “What shall I drink?” she asked him. “Something that will set fire to my blood. Suggest something.”

     Manuel turned to his bottles. “I have something for you,” he said. “You will not be disappointed.”

     The tall, thin man she had called Harry said, “I wish you wouldn't, it doesn't suit you.”

     “That's only your opinion,” the girl said. She had very fine hands, slim and white and very beautiful. “We are starting well tonight. Soon we shall be quarrelling, and then we shall go away from each other. I think I shall like that.”