Page:Levenson - Butterfly Man.djvu/217

Rh hotel; their fluttering hands protested that he was ignoring them. His dance, his grace, his personality attracted them with impelling magnetism. Pittsburgh blended gently into Cincinnati. Liquor soothed Ken's nerves, created a falsely tonic effect, provided him with a sense of elation. He now played his role in "Sweeter Than Sweet" with mechanical perfection, dancing, however, with almost imperceptible lack of that spontaneous élan which won applause. Pulse always quick, a laugh on his dry lips, a witty rejoinder ready for every new sally on the part of his companions, he saw Cincinnati become Cleveland. Time and space fused in a long round of drinks, jokes, love-making. His day began at dusk. Breakfast at five. Details attended to by Joe. The theatre. New faces. A flirtation. A rendezvous. Liquor, blazing liquor. Forgetfulness, blank annihilation. And always a bed for the day, a pay check on Saturday, and a seemingly inexhaustible reservoir of energy. Sleep, he knew, was his enemy. He was afraid to go to bed in the dark. Dawn, he said, was early enough. The light drove bad dreams away. His pillow never soft, the sheets never cool nor soothing, he tossed into replenishing deep sleep; for, adrift on that searing sea of alcohol, he sank into unconsciousness.

Then, one week-end, he arrived in Chicago. Familiar streets. Reminiscent faces. Norah's chatter about the old days, three years ago, when they had broken in their act, then played their first musical show roles. Dimly Ken remembered a time when had been eagerly ambitious, ridiculously anxious to go to New York, to become a Broadway star.

Odd that now he was a Broadway star, returning to