Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/297

 in tights, with stripes running around his legs, he was sure he would have looked the same. He wished he could have remembered the dancer's last name. He remembered the first, Peter … Peter … Armentrout … that was it … Armentrout, and Peter's eyes followed his … they were saying … "How about me buying us a drink?"

Paul lost the thread of the past. "I'd like that … I don't like to drink alone." He paused, expecting him to smile, but he went on smoking his cigarette, and Paul noticed, faint as gossamer, the line between his brows.

"It's no fun to drink alone," Ted said brusquely, "I'm Ted Miles."

He held out his hand which Paul took.

"I'm Paul Boudreaux."

"Where can we go, Boudreaux?"

"Boudreaux?"

"Okay; where can we go, Paul?" The gesture with which he accompanied the words was so pompous that both broke into laughter.

"That's better," grinned Paul. "There's lots of places, but I think I should go home and change. I've been walking in rain. Silly to like to walk in the rain, isn't it?"

"I don't think so," Ted said sharply. "I kinda like it myself. Seems to clean one's self." He smiled now. "Do you live far … I do think you should change … might catch cold."

"I don't live too far from here. Would you like me to meet you or would you like to come to my apartment?"

"What do you think I should do? I don't like to drink alone either."

"You're more than welcome to come along."

"What will your wife say?"

"Wife? I'm not married," Paul stiffened, said, "are you?"

Ted did not answer, and Paul was aware of a feeling of discomfort, as though he had trespassed on forbidden ground. "I'm sorry," Paul continued … "I didn't mean to get personal … let's go to my apartment."

"That's all right," Ted said … "I am married," he seemed embarrassed with his words … "but she's in Los Angeles." 287