afternoon as he had expected. He had slept from ten o'clock, when he had come home from church, until almost four, when his mother had awakened him.
He turned the page slowly. He didn't mind Sunday afternoons on the elevator. The house was fairly quiet and he could catch up on his studies.
He heard footsteps come down the hall and go past him into the elevator. He didn't look up. He wanted to j&nish the last part of his problem.
A soft voice came out of the elevator. It was vaguely familiar. "Today, Mike?"
He dropped the book, startled.
She was standing in the elevator, smiling at him. Her white-blond hair was almost gold in the light. ''Any time you're ready," she said.
He got to his feet clumsUy, aware of a sudden jumping inside him. He stepped into the elevator and sprang the lock. The door began to close. He looked at her. "How do you know my name?" he asked.
She didn't answer. Her eyes looked right into him. Her lips were parted in a kind of smile, showing even white teeth.
Unable to meet the challenge m her glance, he turned away from her. He could feel the flush creeping red into his cheeks. "Floor, please?" he asked sullenly, pressing down the lever and starting the car.
"Twelve," she answered.
Then he understood. He turned to look at her. "You're Ross's girl." It was more a statement than a question.
Her face was expressionless, she didn't speak.
He stopped the car between floors and turned away from the board. "You are Ross's girl?" he repeated.
"Am I?" she asked challengingly. "You ought to know. You're an expert on broads. Seen one an' you seen 'em all."
His face flushed. She had heard him the other night. No wonder she had acted the way she had. It was her only way to get even. He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.
She didn't answer.
rfe looked up at her. "I said, I'm sorry.'*
Her gaze was still cold and level. "I heard you.!'
He began to feel angry. "You might at least say something."
She smiled. "Hooray." Her eyes stared into his. "What're you lookin' for—applause?"
He leaned against the wall of the car. He knew how to treat dames Uke this. He surveyed her carefully from head
to toe. This always made them uncomfortable. No babe liked to be stared at as he was doing.
She didn't speak, and when his eyes came back to her face he saw no trace of embarrassment.
"Ross was right," he said cuttingly. "You're built for it."
There was confidence in her eyes. "Thanks," she said dryly. "I needed you to tell me. I was beginning to worry."
A smile came to his lips. He was sure of himself now. She was nothing but a cheap little teasing floosie. He reached out his hand and pulled her toward him.
She smiled and came toward him willingly. He looked down into her face. Her eyes were sparkling. He bent to kiss her.
He felt her hand move behind his back, and suddenly the elevator floor dropped out sickeningly from beneath him. For a bewildered second he stood paralyzed. Then with a muttered curse he turned and grabbed the lever.
He snapped into stop-and-lock and hoped that it would take. She had thrown it into fast drop. He heard the power whine, and the car stopped.
He turned back to her. "You crazy bitch!" he snarled. "We could've been killed!"
There was a wild excitement in her face that he had never seen on anyone. There was no trace of fear in her. "Really?" she asked, politely sarcastic. "That would have been too bad."
He turned back to the lever and started the car upward again. "Okay," he said. The car rose slowly. He stopped at Ross's floor and opened the door.
She stepped out of the car, "Thank you, Mike," she said politely, smiling at him.
"You're welcome," he said in an equally formal tone. He kept the door open as she walked down the corridor.
He watched her in the small mirror in the corner of the elevator. She had a good walk, and she knew it
He saw her stop in front of Ross's door and press the buzzer. The door opened ahnost immediately. He could see the smile on
He turned the page slowly. He didn't mind Sunday afternoons on the elevator. The house was fairly quiet and he could catch up on his studies.
He heard footsteps come down the hall and go past him into the elevator. He didn't look up. He wanted to j&nish the last part of his problem.
A soft voice came out of the elevator. It was vaguely familiar. "Today, Mike?"
He dropped the book, startled.
She was standing in the elevator, smiling at him. Her white-blond hair was almost gold in the light. ''Any time you're ready," she said.
He got to his feet clumsUy, aware of a sudden jumping inside him. He stepped into the elevator and sprang the lock. The door began to close. He looked at her. "How do you know my name?" he asked.
She didn't answer. Her eyes looked right into him. Her lips were parted in a kind of smile, showing even white teeth.
Unable to meet the challenge m her glance, he turned away from her. He could feel the flush creeping red into his cheeks. "Floor, please?" he asked sullenly, pressing down the lever and starting the car.
"Twelve," she answered.
Then he understood. He turned to look at her. "You're Ross's girl." It was more a statement than a question.
Her face was expressionless, she didn't speak.
He stopped the car between floors and turned away from the board. "You are Ross's girl?" he repeated.
"Am I?" she asked challengingly. "You ought to know. You're an expert on broads. Seen one an' you seen 'em all."
His face flushed. She had heard him the other night. No wonder she had acted the way she had. It was her only way to get even. He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.
She didn't answer.
rfe looked up at her. "I said, I'm sorry.'*
Her gaze was still cold and level. "I heard you.!'
He began to feel angry. "You might at least say something."
She smiled. "Hooray." Her eyes stared into his. "What're you lookin' for—applause?"
He leaned against the wall of the car. He knew how to treat dames Uke this. He surveyed her carefully from head
to toe. This always made them uncomfortable. No babe liked to be stared at as he was doing.
She didn't speak, and when his eyes came back to her face he saw no trace of embarrassment.
"Ross was right," he said cuttingly. "You're built for it."
There was confidence in her eyes. "Thanks," she said dryly. "I needed you to tell me. I was beginning to worry."
A smile came to his lips. He was sure of himself now. She was nothing but a cheap little teasing floosie. He reached out his hand and pulled her toward him.
She smiled and came toward him willingly. He looked down into her face. Her eyes were sparkling. He bent to kiss her.
He felt her hand move behind his back, and suddenly the elevator floor dropped out sickeningly from beneath him. For a bewildered second he stood paralyzed. Then with a muttered curse he turned and grabbed the lever.
He snapped into stop-and-lock and hoped that it would take. She had thrown it into fast drop. He heard the power whine, and the car stopped.
He turned back to her. "You crazy bitch!" he snarled. "We could've been killed!"
There was a wild excitement in her face that he had never seen on anyone. There was no trace of fear in her. "Really?" she asked, politely sarcastic. "That would have been too bad."
He turned back to the lever and started the car upward again. "Okay," he said. The car rose slowly. He stopped at Ross's floor and opened the door.
She stepped out of the car, "Thank you, Mike," she said politely, smiling at him.
"You're welcome," he said in an equally formal tone. He kept the door open as she walked down the corridor.
He watched her in the small mirror in the corner of the elevator. She had a good walk, and she knew it
He saw her stop in front of Ross's door and press the buzzer. The door opened ahnost immediately. He could see the smile on