Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/208

 the kid, remember?" With both hands, she ran them over her breasts. "Pretty, aren't they … For fifteen cents I'll tell you where you can buy a pair just like them."

Again the crowd laughed.

"Sure feel sexy tonight … You're the same damn way, Mary." She pointed to a fat man seated with a pretty young boy about the age of Gaylord. "What the hell are you laughing about?"

Heads turned and glanced in the direction of her eyes … Everybody laughed … even Gaylord.

"Enough of this bitching …" Dusty said. "I'm pooped … I've been evil long enough … haven't I?"

"No," cried a girl.

Dusty smiled. "Anyway, I hope I haven't offended anyone. Everything was said in the spirit of fun … You'd probably throw me out on my can if I acted like the real lady I really am." She paused for the applause. "Thanks … Thanks for being so much fun to talk to, and now, I'd really like to get a bit serious."

The laughing ceased almost instantly.

"Thanks," she said, then clearing her throat again, went on. "I'd like to sing, with your permission, a favorite song of mine for a very nice boy. He's visiting here in New Orleans and I hope … he enjoys the song and his stay in our beautiful wicked city." She turned to the boy at the piano. "Okay … Joe … Hit it pretty, honey."

Joe ran his fingers over the ivory keys.