Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/195

 his legs. He retraced Paul's steps even closer than before. At least they couldn't paw him …

"Hello, good looking," a boy with bleached hair grinned, at the same time trying to grab his hand.

"Hello," grinned Gaylord.

"You can share my table."

Paul looked back and heard … Said, "No thanks."

"Get you … Mary … I was just trying to be polite for a change."

"Thanks, but we have one," put in Paul.

"Thanks," Gaylord grinned again, conscious of the many eyes upon him. He was glad when they were seated at the table.

Just in front of the table a soft blue spotlight engulfed a tall blond girl standing against a black piano. She was singing and a long silk handkerchief flew through the smoky blur from her ever moving hands. After they had sat down, the frail piece of silk touched Gaylord's cheek and the girl smiled, "Hello, honey," then back up in the air it went toward the girl who had spoken and winked at him.

"Hello," grinned Gaylord, impressed by the informal flirtation.

"Want a cigarette?" Paul asked.

"Please," he answered.

Paul handed him a lighted one. He took it and prayed he wouldn't cough. He was not used to cigarettes but he should smoke. Everyone else was. He puffed at it. It tasted mild and sweet. He looked at its foreign name, stenciled on the thin white paper in red letters. He had never seen one of these before.

"What kind of cigarette is this?"

"Don't you like them?" Paul asked.

"Oh, yes … They're good … I've never smoked one before. In fact I haven't smoked too much any time."

"They're an imported cigarette called Empress," Paul grinned at his young companion. "I like them because they're so mild. You can smoke them all evening and they don't burn your tongue."

"I like them." Gaylord blew more smoke in the air.

An ugly boy, with thick glasses over pale watery eyes, came up to their table. He held an empty tray and a small towel was thrown over his arm. "Hello, Paul," he said with a bored expression.