dearly but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph if she ain’t every bit as homely as my own poor Muriel.”
The soup was tasty and I was hungry, but I was preoccupied with the thought that Banbury was leading up to a proposal to alter the status quo, which for the moment mostly suited me. The waiter took our soup dishes and put down plates of what looked like bœuf bourguignon, its blackish gravy still bubbling.
“Hell, I’ve just had a bellyful. That sweet thing she sits on just ain’t worth the trouble. What I’ve been wondering is,” he said with his mouth full of the first bite of beef, huffing little breaths in and out to counteract the heat, “how’d you like to take her on full-time?”
I nearly choked on my wine at the thought. “Not much,” I said.
“Half the problem’s that goddamned laudanum, if you want to know what I think. Fact is,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward as if afraid Priscilla would hear, “I already got another gal set up here in town and she’s not half the trouble Cilla is.” Banbury took another bite, blowing on it first.
I placed a forkful of beef into my own mouth, taking thesame precaution and scalding my palate regardless. I wondered if he expected me to keep his plans from Priscilla; I wasn’t willing to take up the responsibility of paying her rent, but I thought she should have some warning before she found her means of support removed.
“What’s funny is, I used to worry about that husband she left back in Iowa. I wondered if maybe he’d track her down and burst into that bedroom sometime and perforate me.” He brought his hand up to his bandaged eye. “And then I figured it out. Hell, he’s probably been running the other direction the whole time, worried she’s coming after him.”
“What do you suppose she’ll do without your support?” I said.
“Used to be a seamstress. She could do that again. Wouldn’t be able to keep up the way she’s living now, but she wouldn’t starve. Hell, she could make a living singing.”
“Is that a joke?”
He looked puzzled. “You haven’t heard her sing and play?”
“Never. Piano’s always been shut when I’ve been there.”
He shrugged. “Well, her voice is mighty pretty.”
The food was remarkable, and once our conversation turned away from Priscilla I much enjoyed it. Dessert was a sort of bread pudding laced with rum, followed by a very special old pale. Upon finishing Banbury rose, patting his distended abdomen with fond pride. “They serve a hell of a table here,” he said.
He walked me downstairs and out to a sidewalk teeming with ill-tempered pedestrians huddled against the cold.
“This gal I got now, she’s from the South, a real old-fashioned belle. She orders me around and makes faces and if she doesn’t get her way, I don’t get mine, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s the way they are, I understand.”
“The damnedest thing is, I like it. She hardly even makes an affectation of liking me, and yet I come back.” He coughed into his fist, trying hard to get something out of his throat. “Well, I sure wish you’d think this over. I’d hate like hell to see Priscilla thrown out onto the street.”
“You’ll keep paying the rent for a few months, won’t you? Until she can find something?”
He looked at me as if I were insane. “Christ, supporting three women in three different houses is about to put me in the goddamn alms house.” He walked away, shaking his head, and gave a little wave without looking back.
H AVING A LITTLE time to spare I walked blocks out of my way with my hands in my coat pockets, prodding with my tongue a little flap of skin that dangled, heat-shredded, from the roof of my mouth. At Nineteenth Street I turned right and headed to Market Street, thinking I might find Augie there. Since one or more of my afternoon sittings seemed likely to cancel on me I thought I might as well conduct my businesswith him and be done with it, but walking up the
The soup was tasty and I was hungry, but I was preoccupied with the thought that Banbury was leading up to a proposal to alter the status quo, which for the moment mostly suited me. The waiter took our soup dishes and put down plates of what looked like bœuf bourguignon, its blackish gravy still bubbling.
“Hell, I’ve just had a bellyful. That sweet thing she sits on just ain’t worth the trouble. What I’ve been wondering is,” he said with his mouth full of the first bite of beef, huffing little breaths in and out to counteract the heat, “how’d you like to take her on full-time?”
I nearly choked on my wine at the thought. “Not much,” I said.
“Half the problem’s that goddamned laudanum, if you want to know what I think. Fact is,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward as if afraid Priscilla would hear, “I already got another gal set up here in town and she’s not half the trouble Cilla is.” Banbury took another bite, blowing on it first.
I placed a forkful of beef into my own mouth, taking thesame precaution and scalding my palate regardless. I wondered if he expected me to keep his plans from Priscilla; I wasn’t willing to take up the responsibility of paying her rent, but I thought she should have some warning before she found her means of support removed.
“What’s funny is, I used to worry about that husband she left back in Iowa. I wondered if maybe he’d track her down and burst into that bedroom sometime and perforate me.” He brought his hand up to his bandaged eye. “And then I figured it out. Hell, he’s probably been running the other direction the whole time, worried she’s coming after him.”
“What do you suppose she’ll do without your support?” I said.
“Used to be a seamstress. She could do that again. Wouldn’t be able to keep up the way she’s living now, but she wouldn’t starve. Hell, she could make a living singing.”
“Is that a joke?”
He looked puzzled. “You haven’t heard her sing and play?”
“Never. Piano’s always been shut when I’ve been there.”
He shrugged. “Well, her voice is mighty pretty.”
The food was remarkable, and once our conversation turned away from Priscilla I much enjoyed it. Dessert was a sort of bread pudding laced with rum, followed by a very special old pale. Upon finishing Banbury rose, patting his distended abdomen with fond pride. “They serve a hell of a table here,” he said.
He walked me downstairs and out to a sidewalk teeming with ill-tempered pedestrians huddled against the cold.
“This gal I got now, she’s from the South, a real old-fashioned belle. She orders me around and makes faces and if she doesn’t get her way, I don’t get mine, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s the way they are, I understand.”
“The damnedest thing is, I like it. She hardly even makes an affectation of liking me, and yet I come back.” He coughed into his fist, trying hard to get something out of his throat. “Well, I sure wish you’d think this over. I’d hate like hell to see Priscilla thrown out onto the street.”
“You’ll keep paying the rent for a few months, won’t you? Until she can find something?”
He looked at me as if I were insane. “Christ, supporting three women in three different houses is about to put me in the goddamn alms house.” He walked away, shaking his head, and gave a little wave without looking back.
H AVING A LITTLE time to spare I walked blocks out of my way with my hands in my coat pockets, prodding with my tongue a little flap of skin that dangled, heat-shredded, from the roof of my mouth. At Nineteenth Street I turned right and headed to Market Street, thinking I might find Augie there. Since one or more of my afternoon sittings seemed likely to cancel on me I thought I might as well conduct my businesswith him and be done with it, but walking up the
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