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The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [70]

By Root 9448 0

"No, I understand, but Mrs. Dangerfield took all next month's rent. In advance"

"Why that dirty bitch. I beg your pardon, Miss Frost I do beg your pardon. I get so confused sometimes"

"That's all right, Mr. Dangerfield."

Miss Frost went to her bag on the window sill. She took a pound from her purse. Sebastian distracting his attention by bending, grunting, and tying his shoelace.

"Miss Frost, this is, indeed, most kind of you"

"It's nothing at all"

"I do hate so making these requests, Miss Frost, but could you ever lend me a scarf? I'm afraid the one I have is most unsatisfactory"

"Yes, certainly, do go and choose one. They are in the top left drawer of the dresser"

Sebastian in her room. There was a yellow one. Bright and soft

"May I wear this one, Miss Frost?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Handsome. I like a bit of color. I think you will like The Three Eyes very much. Miss Frost. Ah, I feel quite refreshed. Sporting, in fact. Give me the facts, Miss Frost, and to hell with the fiction. I want the facts"

"Ha, ha."

They stepped down the little front porch. Sebastian offering his arm. The soft million drops coming down. She held his arm lightly. And through the middle class streets and in these windows there were comforts. Dry chairs. Sebastian whistled a tune.

On a back street, through vacant lots, lanes of the poor and whitewashed walls, folding roofs, slates shining everywhere up these black twisted streets. Chickens making noise.

The Three Eyes was small and warm. They went into the snug, sat on the hard, narrow bench. A ring of the buzzer. A head. Good evening, sir. And the drinks. Miss Frost had a glass of port.

"What made you come to Dublin?"

To be a nurse"

"To abuse poor unfortunates"

"I gave it up"

"Why?"

"I didn't like it much and I didn't get along with the other girls. And the pay was bad"

"What did you do then?"

"I went to work for the Dublin Assurance Company, but I didn't like it there either. I went to England then. There was a man in the office whom I didn't fancy very much. We didn't get along"

"Why?"

"He thought a great deal of himself. He was my boss"

"I see"

"And I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction."

"You did right, Miss Frost Now, tell me, Miss Frost, how old are you?"

"O, Mr. Dangerfield, I can't tell you that"

"O yes you can, Miss Frost."

"O I couldn't tell you. I just couldn't"

"Miss Frost. I'm your friend. Remember that Friend. You can tell me anything, anything at all. Least of all, your age. Now how old are you ? "

Sebastian reached over and covered Miss Frost's hand in her lap. Comfort in a moment of distress.

"O dear, Mr. Dangerfield, I'm thirty four"

"Excellent age. Best"

"How do you know?"

"Miss Frost, sometimes I feel fifty three. Seldom, but at times, I feel twenty. Like the days. Ever feel a Saturday on a Tuesday? Or a week of one Friday after another? Recently I've been seventy. But I remember thirty four as a fine age. Do you mind, Miss Frost, if I have another, quickly?"

"O,no. Do."

"Now, Miss Frost, let's get down to business. What do you want ? What do you want out of life, anyway?"

"Dear me, what a question."

"Answer me, now. Truthfully, Miss Frost"

"Well, your question covers so much ground. There are a great number of things I want out of life. Of course, as I've said, my own shop"

"Ah, you want money, Miss Frost Money is what you're after"

"I'd hardly put it that way"

"But that's what you'd like, isn't it?"

"Doesn't one work towards saving one's soul, too, Mr. Dangerfield?"

"People ingratiate with God. Think he can do something for them. O.K., Miss Frost, now what do you think of when you first get up in the morning ? "

Miss Frost was twisting her glass and watching it

"O just getting ready for work."

Miss Frost chuckled, a high throated one. And said she'd better go back because she had to be up early. Sebastian bought a Baby Powers. Whipped it into his pocket Banged the door for the bartender for a quick one for the road. He put his hand in the small of Miss Frost's back, guiding her, my dear ship, out the door. Don't foul the rudder, darling.

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