From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [128]
“You’re just stubborn,” Stark said stubbornly. “How do you know you wouldnt like it? I liked it. Why wouldnt you like it?”
“Because I like to touch em. I like to more than touch em.”
“By Christ,” Stark said suddenly, “but that woman’s sure been gone a long time.” He turned and began to beat his fist against the door again. “An awful long time. Hey! Open up!”
The peephole opened up immediately, almost as if the tall, narrow faced, prettily smiling, white woman who smiled out at them had been standing there all the time listening.
“Why, hello, Maylon,” the woman smiled delightedly. “Minerva didnt tell me it was you. How are you?”
“About to bust,” Stark said. “Let us in.”
“Why, Maylon,” she chided, gently but firmly. “Is that any way to talk to me?”
Prew, looking at this ladyhood, this almost maidenhood, felt everything suddenly run down out of him hollowly, like snow suddenly slides off a roof under a February sun exposing the orderly shingles of a former business venture. And, like all the other times, at other places, he was ready to go home now. I wonder what Violet Ogure is doing, he thought right now, at this minute?
“Jesus Christ!” Stark was storming. “You aint scared we wreck your joint?”
“Not at all,” the woman smiled. “I have no fear at all upon that score. And please dont swear at me, Maylon.”
“Mrs Kipfer,” Stark said, with a sudden subdued sobriety at the seriousness of the situation, “I’m surprised at you, Mrs Kipfer. Did you ever know me to come up here when I was drinking heavily? I ask you honestly, do I look like that kind of a man?”
“Well I had certainly never thought so, Maylon,” Mrs Kipfer lied pleasedly. “You have always been a perfect gentleman, around me.”
“Thank you, Mam,” Stark said. “And now, if there is no further misunderstanding, will you please let us in?”
“Heavy drinking,” Mrs Kipfer countered, “just does not mix with the entertainment business. Every respectable decent place must consider its future.”
“Mrs Kipfer, Mam,” Stark said, “I give you my solemn word your future will be safe with us.”
Mrs Kipfer was appeased. “Well,” she smiled. “Since you give me your word. I’m sure you will, Maylon.”
There was a sound of steel rubbing steel and the door swung inward. Prew saw a sophisticated looking woman with upswept hair and voluptuous figure daintily encased in a lovely doeskin colored evening gown with a corsage of redly purple orchids at her shoulder, looking as if she were the aristocratic lady just stepped out of an International Sterling Silver ad to call her guests to dinner. She smiled at him with forgiving motherly solicitude, and he understood now why everybody who went to whorehouses always talked about Mrs Kipfer and admired her so. It was because Mrs Kipfer was such a lady, and because she was willing to forgive them.
Behind him, Minerva heaved the great door shut and dropped the heavy bar back in its brackets.
“Maylon,” Mrs Kipfer said, “I dont think I’ve met your friend?”
“You never pulled that door routine on me before, Mrs Kipfer,” Stark said accusingly. “Almost think this place was illegal, instead of the best whorehouse in Honolulu.”
“Lets not be crude,” Mrs Kipfer said icily, “just because there was a misunderstanding. You know how I feel about that word. I’d hate to have to ask you to leave, Maylon, but I could, much as I would hate to, if you insist on being nasty.”
Stark said nothing stubbornly.
“I think you owe me an apology for that last remark,” Mrs Kipfer said. “Dont you?”
“I guess so,” Stark said irritably. “I apologize.”
“I still havent met your friend,” she said.
Stark introduced them politely, and mock-bowed deeply as he did it, looking more like a recalcitrant small boy than an angry man.
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Mrs Kipfer smiled at Prew, ignoring the bow as being beneath comment. “I’m always pleased to meet a new member of the Company.”
“Pleasetomeetyou,” Prew said uneasily, wondering where the hell the women were. He felt awkward before such exquisite manners, and he remembered suddenly bitterly what Uncle John Turner, who had never