Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/298

 "That's a long ways from here … I don't guess she would mind," Paul told Ted … "I've got some bourbon and scotch and gin, if you like gin, at home … let's go … if you go in a bar by yourself those ‘B' girls pester the hell out of you."

"Sounds good. You must have read my mind … we'll get a cab, if we can, and I'll get a bottle."

"But I've got …"

"I was going to buy you a drink … remember?"

"All right …"

Ted hailed a cab and they both got in. The car seemed to have the wings of Mercury as it rambled down Royal Street. It went dangerously fast, and the danger seemed to please them both, because it was taking them to adventure, because they were young.

The sky was blue over the Cathedral, and in the wash of mist it looked new. Even the heavy doors had lost their weathered look. One of them stood ajar, and as they passed, Paul could see the dancing flames clustered about the feet of a beautiful statue. There was a wild, sweet joy in his heart now as he looked back at the man of yesterday wrapped in secret self.

They got out of the cab and walked toward the door of his building. On the right side a mass of crystal chandeliers gleamed through the wet plate glass window and on the left an array of golden furniture.

Ted had paid the cab driver and Paul now said … "Can't I pay for anything?"

"No," Ted said emphatically. "You've done your part by rescuing a lonesome guy."

Inside Paul's apartment, he turned quickly to Ted and told him to mix himself a drink … a big one. He pointed to the stocked bar.

"Okay," Ted said, walking to the bar … "I'll mix you one too. What do you want?"

"A little bourbon and coke," said Paul. "I won't be long." He turned and went into his bedroom and stood undressed when Ted entered, carrying two large, thick glasses.

"Try this," he said.

Paul took the glass and clumsily reached for a robe. He could feel the color creeping into his face. A change had come upon their 288