Page:Angna Enters - Among the Daughters.djvu/155

 of last night suddenly came out of nowhere to torment him. In a panic he phoned her house but there was no answer. Had she perhaps been rushed to the hospital? He tried again and again. Finally a voice like his mother's, but dryer, answered. Lucy had gone shopping.

At least, he thought wryly, she's all right. He walked down Venner Street wondering what to get for her as a parting memento. A brooch of blue enamel hepaticas with chip diamond dewdrops caught his eye to be rejected as too sentimental. He chose instead a delicate gold chain with five pearls, which could be added to later with pearl milestones binding her to him in all the years to come.

If I work hard I'll be ready for an exhibition in New York next year.

Semy arrived on the heels of Henkel and Larson with a corsage for Lucy.

"Perhaps I'll be seeing you in New York before too long. Drop me a line and let me know what you're doing. I'll put it in the society column."

An irony lost on her, he noted annoyedly. New York was not an impossibility for him if this little bitch could make it. Lauter was the old bastard to cultivate through son Herold, the dope. That bastard Pop, though managing editor, was only an employee.

Clem placed an armchair for Lucy next to his own but she chose instead a hard straight chair between Mae and Vida. It would relieve her aching side and keep him away. His solicitous hovering irritated her. He ought to pretend he was having a good time too. She had dreaded seeing him and having him sit next to her. She hoped Vida would keep him talking about art.

I'm mean but I don't care, she thought, and laughed at Larson balancing a cigar on the end of his red up-tipped nose. He reminds me of Vida's fox terrier except Tina is old and fat. Henkel and Larson reminded her of something else. Oh yes, those two slapstick comics who tried to build a house and it's always falling down.

Henkel and Larson had the best time at the party. It was, they informed each other, a real art studio party, like you'd probably have in Paris, with even a Model and wine. The only thing not so good was the Model leaving after just meeting her. No wonder old Clem hadn't let them in on her. Afraid they'd take her away from him—to pose of course, and both winked. Some looker. They kept looking Rh