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By Root 5360 0

’t get the ticket fixed, it was worth the two-dollar fine to have things straightened out with Harry. Some places the sidewalk was all clean, some places there was only a narrow path cleared away, and the snow got down in his shoes when he stepped out of the way for women. Another minor annoyance. In front of J. J. Gray s jewelry store he met Irma Fliegler. Hello, Julian, she said. Hello, Irma, he said, and stopped. She was wearing a raccoon coat and she had some packages under her arm. It was still so cold that from a short distance away women did not seem to have any distinctive features, but close up she became Irma Doane, or at least Irma Fliegler, again; still pretty, a bit on the stout side, but stout in a way that did not make her unattractive. You knew that she was not going to get stouter, or definitely fat. She had very pretty legs and hands. You remembered how pretty her hands were when you saw them with gloves on. Well, you certainly were a fine example of the young mother last night, said Julian. He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but some mention had to be made of last night. Better to make some mention of it than to be self-conscious about not bringing it up. Me? What did I do? Julian, you’re nuts.

Now, now, Irma, you don t think I don t remember. Didn’t you know you stole the trombone player s hat?

Oh, you’re kidding. You’re a fine one to talk, you are. What a load you had. Did you get home all right?

I guess so, he said. Then he thought quickly. I felt a little sick, haven t felt that way in years, and I was dancing, too, so I had to go out.

Oh, she said. Maybe she believed him. I pulled a complete pass-out in the car. I think it was some girl from your party that I was dancing with, he said. Maybe she might believe him. Oh, no it wasn t. Not that they didn’t want to, but you went out with the singer.

What singer?

Helene Holman her name is, she sings at the Stage Coach. Oh, it s worse than I thought. I guess I have to send her flowers. I had some vague idea it was Frannie. I remember talking to her.

She was there, but you didn’t dance with her, said Irma. She was having her own troubles. Well.

See you soon, said Julian. Bye, she said. He walked on, a little afraid that he had made a fool of himself, that Irma had not believed a word of his too-ready story that he had gone out with Helene because he was sick. But he knew that whatever he did, Irma would stick up for him. He always had liked Irma; she was the prettiest girl in high school, and a big girl, when he was a kid running around with Butch Doerflinger and Walt Davis and the rest of his kid friends. She had taught him in Sunday School, and did not report him on Sunday afternoons when he bagged it to go to a ball game. He wished he could tell her all his troubles, and he knew that if there was one person to whom he would tell them, it would be Irma. But she was Mrs. Lute Fliegler, the wife of one of his employees. He told himself that he must not forget that. He went up in the elevator to Harry Reilly s office. Hello, Betty. Your boss in? Betty Fenstermacher was a stenographer who also ran the switchboard in Harry s office. Betty also had given her all to Julian and at least a dozen of his friends when they were all about nineteen or twenty. Hello, Ju, she said. Yes, he s in all right. Can t you hear him? He s going away, and you d think be was never away before in his life. Do I have to announce you?

I think you d better. Where s he going?

Oh, New York, she said, and spoke into the telephone. Mr. English is here to see Mr. Reilly. Shall I send him in?

Just then Harry appeared, bag in hand, hat and coat on. I ll be back by Tuesday at the latest, he was saying. Phone Mrs. Gorman and tell her I made the train all right. He turned his face, and for the first time Julian was able to see that Harry s eye was decorated with a shiner, there was no other word for it. The ice apparently had smacked his cheekbone, and the pouch of flesh under the eye was blue and black and red and swollen. Oh, it s you, said Harry. Yes, I thought I might as well come