Page:Levenson - Butterfly Man.djvu/81

Rh Her eyes were dull with leaden despair. "I had to go with him once in L.A. for this San Bernardino date," she confessed. "I did it thinking it was for you and me and if you ever found out, you'd understand. But the other night, I had to, I had to. I guess I'm rotten, that's all."

"Wasn't it because you wanted to get a contract for some more time?"

"No. It was because I wanted to."

"I see."

He looked out of the window. Now that his head was averted, he could not see the subtle shading of the love in her eyes as she looked longingly at him.

"People are built the way they are built," she was saying. "I'm the way I am. You … you're the way you are."

"We can't help it, I guess."

She took his hand.

"It'll be great, though, for our act, now that we understand each other."

Her hand dropped slowly to her lap. He said nothing. Her fingers twitched.

"Open the overnight bag, will you, Kennie?"

"What for?"

"I feel as though I could go a slug of rye."