Page:Levenson - Butterfly Man.djvu/142

140 She yowled all the way up Broadway. At Fifty-eighth Street, the cab turned east. She stuck two silk-clad legs through the open window.

"Not bad, eh?" chortled Dick.

Ken led her to the apartment house entrance. Carter fumbled for his key. The hall boy opened the door. A party began. Dancing, drinking, coarse jokes. Luisa's slim legs, white flesh. They drank. Ken swallowed a mouthful of a bootleg concoction. He could taste no more. Luisa danced. She lay on her back and bicycled. She begged Ken to match high kicks with her. He refused. He was too tired, he said. She ordered Dick to get out of the room. "Now, sweet boy, we'll see," she said to Ken as Dick closed the door of his bedroom. She pulled her dress over her head. "Come on, we'll match kicks!"

He kicked high and true. Slim in her scanty underthings, she kicked unevenly, stumbled, fell. He thought of Anita that last night in Tia Juana. He let Luisa lie on the floor. She began to cry.

"I was so thrilled, when I heard you was coming," she sobbed. "Don't be mean to me. You're so sweet, so nice-looking. Take me home." He picked her up in his arms and placed her gently on a couch. Ken was affected by her tears. He held her chin in his hand. He covered her with his body. She continued to sob. His arm held her shoulder. He rose. He was lifting her from the couch, her head drooping limply, lashes moist, scarlet mouth. Her wide wet eyes closed against his cheek as Dick entered.

"Quick work, boy," Dick chirruped. "Put her in my room. I'll keep her here all night."

"But I didn't," Ken's voice broke. She was a child, Ken decided, a stubborn, bad child. He hated Dick for