Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/303

 "You'll always be welcome … you know that."

"Thanks, Paul."

"Tonight has been mine, and I'll never forget it. I wish it could go on and on."

"It's been mine too, Paul. I don't know when I've ever been so contented. I don't seem to remember the things bothering me before I met you. And my mind was full … real full … I didn't know which way to turn … or where to go … I wanted to stay in New Orleans and I didn't. I wanted to go and I didn't know where to go." He sighed deeply … "Ever been in that shape."

Paul was assailed with a familiar pang of loneliness, and from the street, a girl screamed with delight and a horn from a passing cab caught it up and carried it deep into his mind. Why was he remembering drinking coffee at the dingy old French Market? Why was he remembering the place he had met Arnold?

Damn, that's an ugly boy, he had thought; but the ugly one had gone home with him and stayed. How happy they had been the months following that meeting. How utterly full of joy his soul had been, and how handsome Arnold had become in his eyes. Yes, he had wanted to leave after their separation. He had wanted to go places and there had been no places for forgetfulness or rest. He had come back to New Orleans feeling as lonely as when he had left.

"I know what you mean, Ted. It's happened to me too."

"Paul … are you crying?"

"I'm sorry … I was just thinking." He smiled and his eyes were dry.

"Of someone?"

"He used to live with me."

"Oh." Ted's voice was distant and grave. "Still miss him?"

"No … I don't miss him … I'm glad it's all over."

"Do you like to live alone?"

"I detest it … why don't you live with me?" It was just that suddenly.

"Would you really want me to?"

"I asked you, didn't I?"

"I know you did, Paul … but …"

"But what?" 293