Crossroads of Desire by Amos Hatter — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CROSSROADS OF DESIRE Connie clasped him to her, finding at last the release she had needed for so many, many months. Connie had found herself a lover at last. Her job now was to make him her own. CHAPTER FOUR yes this I hear about you taking the evening off?” ‘That question was put to Larry at seven o’clock that evening as he sat on the edge of his sofa polishing a pair of black shoes. He glanced up at Jane Vollmar who had barged into his room without so much as a faint knock. He didn’t mind, The only knocking Jane ever did was of a verbal nature. ‘Even then it was limited to customers of O’Brien’s saloon who were parsimonious when it came to tips. “That's right. I’m going to see how the other half lives tonight.” “How come?” asked Jane, making herself as comfortable as she could on the worn, overstuffed chair with the broken spring. She was a handsome, auburn-haired girl of medium height with a slender but graceful build. “Have I asked questions about what you did during your night off?” he bantered. “You know I went to Staten Island last night to attend my cousin’s wedding,” Jane shot back. e uae you haven’t told me what you did after the knot was aWSYOL, © “We all got soused, including the groom. My cousin could have killed him,” she laughed, thinking about it. “He passed out, eh?” “No, he just got drunk and bleary-eyed. Couldn’t tell which girl he had married for awhile.” Larry looked at her and smiled. He and Jane had been close friends—quite-close at times—for about a year. She was a wait- ress in O’Brien’s saloon. Deftly he ran the brush across the leather of the toe, then held the shoe up and admired it. “O’Brien told me we had a slumming party in last night,” she said, after a moment. 30 CROSSROADS OF DESIRE ‘fost members of the party felt that way about it no doubt.” “How did you feel about it?” Larry was giving his attention to his polishing job, but some~ thine in her tone caused him to stop and regard her. She was gazing across at him levelly. Their eyes met for a moment, then he shrugged. “T didn’t feel one way or the other. Do you think I should have?” “Took, bozo. You're not kidding me. O’Brien told me that one of these rich bitches was Connie Carter, the ballet dancer. And he also said that you knew her. Now, just what’s this all about?” “Oh yes,” he said, brightening with mock surprise, “Connie Carter. We’ve been friends for years.” “T know better than that. Where’d you meet her?” Larry knew by the look on Jane’s face that any further kidding about it wouldn’t set so well. He said blithely, “Believe it or not, I met her yesterday afternoon at a cocktail party.” “So then last night after the show, she‘hauls her gang down here to have a better look at you. “Well,” said Jane narrowly, “that adds up. But how does your taking tonight off fit in?” “Hlementary, my dear Watson,” Larry replied, putting down the shoe beside the other one which was finished. He stood up, walked across the threadbare carpet and got a clean, white shirt out of the bureau drawer. “Tf it’s as elementary as I think, yowre getting ready for a date,’ she said suspiciously. He turned and wagged his head sorrowfully. ‘All I’ve got is an Annie Oakley to a performance of the Ballet du Roi tonight. If I had two I’d take you along.” “No, thank you.” “Wouldn't you like to see Miss Carter do that Libretto num- ber? They say it’s the hottest thing since the Chicago fire.” “Not if I had to go on a free ticket that tomato handed out,” Jane replied sullenly. He gave her an amused glance. “What’s she done to you?” “Nothing. But something tells me she didn’t come around to O’Brien’s last night just for the food and liquor. Something else attracted her.” “T can’t imagine what,” said Larry, keeping a straight face *cCORNIElLOOOL<S COLA