Hotel

"You were drunk! You were drunk when I found you, and you still are."

He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sober now." It was his own turn to be bitter. "You would follow me. Butt in. Would not leave things be ...

"Never mind that. It's the other that matters."

He repeated, "You persuaded me . . ."

"There was nothing we could do. Nothing! And there was a better chance my way."

"Not so sure. If the police get their teeth in . .

"We'd have to be suspected first. That's why I made that trouble with the waiter and followed through. It isn't an alibi but it's the next best thing. It's set in their minds we were here tonight ... or would have been if you hadn't thrown it all away. I could weep."

"Be interesting that" the Duke said. "Didn't think you were enough of a woman." He sat upright in the chair and had somehow thrown off the submissiveness, or most of it. It was a chameleon quality which sometimes bewildered those who knew him, setting them to wondering which was the real person.

The Duchess flushed, the effect heightening her statuesque beauty. "That isn't necessary."

"Perhaps not." Rising, the Duke went to aside table where he splashed Scotch generously into his glass, followed by a short snort of soda. With his back turned, he added, "All same, must admit you at bottom most of our troubles."

"I admit nothing of the kind. Your habits are, perhaps, but not mine.

Going to that disgusting gambling joint tonight was madness; and to take that woman . . ."

"Y'already covered that," the Duke said wearily. "Exhaustively. On our way back. Before it happened."

"I wasn't aware that what I said had penetrated."

"Your words, old girl, penetrate thickest mists. I keep trying make them impenetrable. So far haven't succeeded." The Duke of Croydon sipped his fresh drink. "Why'd you marry me?"

"I suppose it was mostly that you stood out in our circle as someone who was doing something worth while. People said the aristocracy was effete.

You seemed to be proving that it wasn't."

He held up his glass, studying it like a crystal ball. "Not proving it now. Eli?"

"If you appear to be, it's because I prop you up."

"Washington?" The word was a question. ,

"We could manage it," the Duchess said. "If I could keep you sober and in your own bed."

"Aha!" Her husband laughed hollowly. "A damn cold bed at that."

"I already said that isn't necessary."

"Ever wondered why I married you?"

"I've formed opinions."

"Tell you most important." He drank again, as if for courage, then said thickly, "Wanted you in that bed. Fast. Legally. Knew was only way."

"I'm surprised you bothered. With so many others to choose from - before and since."

His bloodshot eyes were on her face. "Didn't want others. Wanted you.

Still do."

She snapped, "That's enough! This has gone far enough."

He shook his head. "Something you should hear. Your pride, old girl.

Magnificent. Savage. Always appealed to me. Didn't want to break it.

Share it. You on your back. Thighs apart. Passionate. Trembling . .

"Stop it! Stop it! You ... you lecher!" Her face was white, her voice high pitched. "I don't care if the police catch you! I hope they do! I hope you get ten years!"

6

After his quickly concluded dispute with Reception, Peter McDermott recrossed the fourteenth floor corridor to 1439.

"If you approve," he informed Dr. Uxbridge, "we'll transfer your patient to another room on this floor."

The tall, sparely built doctor who had responded to Christine's emergency call nodded. He glanced around the tiny ha-ha room with its mess of heating and water pipes. "Any change can only be an improvement."

As the doctor returned to the little man in the bed, beginning a new five-minute period of oxygen, Christine reminded Peter, "What we need now is a nurse."

"We'll let Dr. Aarons arrange that." Peter mused aloud: "The hotel will have to make the engagement, I suppose, which means we'll be liable for payment. Do you think your friend Wells is good for it?"

They had returned to the corridor, their voices low.

"I'm worried about that. I dont think he has much money." When she was concentrating, Peter noticed, Christine's nose had a charming way of crinkling. He was aware of her closeness and a faint, fragrant perfume.

"Oh well," he said, "we won't be too deep in debt by morning. We'll let the credit department look into it then."

When the key arrived, Christine went ahead to open the new room, 1410.

"It's ready," she announced, returning.

"The best thing is to switch beds," Peter told the others. "Let's wheel this one into 1410 and bring back a bed from there." But the doorway, they discovered, was an inch too narrow.

Albert Wells, his breathing easier and with returning color, volunteered,

"I've walked all my life, I can do a little bit now." But Dr. Uxbridge shook his head decisively.

The chief engineer inspected the difference in widths.

I'll take the door off its hinges," he told the sick man. Then ye'll go out like a cork from a bottle."

"Never mind," Peter said. "There's a quicker way - if jou're agreeable, Mr. Wells."