Crossroads of Desire by Amos Hatter — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

CROSSROADS OF DESIRE saw her dim figure heading slowly down Third Avenue. He caught up with her. “Connie, what’s the matter?” “Nothing. I just want to walk. Walk and walk,” she said, hardly realizing it was Philip beside her. “But you oughtn’t to be out by yourself at this hour. I’m going with you.” Connie didn’t reply and Philip took that to mean that his presence met with her approval. He moved along beside her in Silence: They disappeared into the night down Third Avenue. About that time Larry finished playing. The liquor had so benumbed him that he could no longer feel the ivories. He Staggered back to the table and joined Ginger and Robbin. O’Brien brought him another drink. “Jane,” he muttered. “Where’s she?” “Getting settled in a new apartment tonight, over on Madi- son,” O’Brien informed him. “She moved out from upstairs this afternoon.” All at once Larry had the feeling he had lost everything. He grabbed up the fresh drink and with a foolish wink at Ginger and Robbin drained it. Half an hour later he was still sitting there with them, his eyes glazed. “The guy’s out,” Ginger observed, looking at him. “We'd better get going, don’t you think?” Robbin suggested. “But we can’t leave him here in this condition.” Robbin shrugged. “It’s not our affair.” “Isn’t it?” The blonde glanced at him significantly. “Do you want Connie moving back in on Phillip and messing up that contract of yours, and everything else? “No.” “Then come on, Let’s get Larry out of here,” Suddenly Robbin got the idea. They got on either side of Larry and lifted him up. His legs were like rubber but they got him outside and into a taxi. The piano player hadn’t the slightest notion of what was going on. He was out cold. “We'll deliver him, with our compliments, to Connie,” Ginger laughed as the taxi pulled away from the curb. At that same time Philip’s feet were beginning to feel as if he’d been marching for weeks without rest. He and Connie were all the way down to Forty-Second Street. She turned east and 126 CROSSROADS OF DESIRE Philip followed her doggedly. Across from the Daily News building he finally spoke out. “Tm about to drop, Connie. Can’t we rest for a minute?” She shrugged. They happened to be in front of an all night beanery at the moment, To Philip it looked like the promised land. He motioned toward it and when Connie raised no objec- tions he gratefully piloted her inside. They sat on stools at the counter and downed two cups of black coffee. Philip’s strength was restored. Presently he turned a questioning eye to Connie, “What's this all about? Why did you want to leave O’Brien’s?” Connie stared dully ahead of her. It was a moment before she replied. “I just wanted to, that’s all.” “Something go wrong back there?” he asked cautiously. “Nothing matters any more. Nothing at all.” Philip pondered this information. He sensed, without know- ing exactly why, that opportunity was knocking at the door. Suddenly he dared hope that all might not be lost. Given a choice he still preferred the glamorous Connie to any girl. “Listen, Connie. I made a deal with J ane Vollmer but I can handle that. Would you—Do you think we could turn over a new leaf? Let bygones be bygones?” ‘ “T don’t care,” said Connie. She had sunk into such depths of despondency that she didn’t even know what she was saying. _ Philip’s hopes soared. His heart pounded wildly when he came to the full realization that his reward was a lot closer than he had suspected. “Shall we go now, my dear?” he asked quietly. It didn’t make any difference to Connie. Philip hurriedly paid the check. His excitment grew as she accompanied him docilely outside and entered a cab with him. “I want to go home,’ Connie said in a small voice. - Philip gave the driver her address and told him to hurry. A few minutes later they were let into Connie’s apartment by Yvonne who stared at them both wide-eyed. Philip was beside himself with joy. Gleefully he thought of the power of his Money. It has triumphed in the end as always. “But, mademoiselle—!” Yvonne exclaimed, glancing fearfully toward the bedroom. “Mr. Walker and—” _ “Nothing matters, Yvonne,’ Connie interrupted, ‘Please. Just don’t wake me at all tomorrow.” im COMIC OOOKS com 2a =a