Iâve got better clothes than you have. But donât worry, Iâve made up my mind to be more thoughtful of theneedy from now on, and Iâm going to send you one of my old things, a Christian Dior that I wore once. I never wear any of them more than once unless poor Oscar canât get romantic unless I wear a certain dress, and then, of course, I wear it in the morning, I wear it at lunch, I wear it in the evening, and I wear it to bed. Donât I, darling?â
âYouâve got two dresses,â the villain said, âboth of them bought at Mayâs in Los Angeles, not counting whatever the hell that was you had in your suitcase when you came to live with me. I suppose some of those rags were
supposed
to be dresses.â
They were all smiling or laughing all the time, drinking and talking and making fun of themselves because thatâs the best thing for the soul there is.
âThey were dresses I inherited from my mother,â Alice said. âYou know my mother, darling. Remember when she telephoned and said: âMr. Bard, Iâd like to speak to my daughter if you donât mind. I understand sheâs studying acting with you. Sheâs nineteen years old, you know.â You remember Mama, donât you, darling?â
âWell, between the two of you,â Oscar said, âyou made it. You must have planned the whole thing very carefully. Otherwise how did she know where you were? How did she get my unlisted number? But the jokeâs on you, because I couldnât have been more delighted. I mean, to have you move in with me and be bored to death for five, ten, maybe fifteen years.â
âWhat do you mean?â Alice said. And then imitated her mother, â
If you donât mind
.â
She and Daisy laughed about this a long time.
The man saw the fox stop and turn, and then lope on. The villain chuckled because the joke
was
on her, it
was
on her mother, and not on him. To be past sixty and nothing much (you had to know you werenât much) and to have a luscious piece like that fall into your bed wasnât anything like what you could call bad luck.
âFive, ten, maybe fifteen years?â Alice went on. âFive, ten, fifteen years until
what
. Divorce? Are you planning to unload me when Iâm old? Is that it? Well, Iâm not going to
let
you unload me. Iâve got so much on you already, youâll never be able to unload me.â
âYou look absolutely gorgeous,â the woman said to Alice. âDoesnât she, darling?â
âAlice? She looks as if she might very well be the best piece of tail in Hollywood.â
âWhatâs the matter with New York?â Alice said.
âWhatâs the matter with Sacramento, too?â Daisy said. She turned on the man with mock anger. âDonât you dare say sheâs the best.â
âI said she
might
be.â
âAnything like that youâve got to say about anybody, say about me, and never mind the
might be
part, either.â
âO.K.â That Roseyâshe looked just like her mother. Would she make out all right? No bawl that way, orscream, or bite her fingernails, or wonder what to do next for fun? Telephone New York or ask a casual acquaintance in the street to come over after dinner or badger an old New York girl friend to get up in the middle of the night and drag her husband to San Francisco? Would Rosey have a little better luck than her poor mama? Her poor mama must have had very bad luck somewhere along the line. Would Rosey have to tell lies and believe they were the truth, or not care that they werenât, or would she have better luck than her poor mama?
âO.K.?â the woman said. âWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?â
âWhat I said. The best.â
âYou know
thatâs
the truth. You know
you
never had any better.â
âNo, I never did.â
âI swear on my mother, itâs all the
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