U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [484]
-409-When she got out to the colonial porch there was Rod-ney Cathcart sitting beside Margolies in the long white car. Margo grinned and got in between them as cool as if she'd expected to find Rodney Cathcart there al the while. The car drove off. Nobody said anything. She couldn't tel where they were going, the avenues of palms and the strings of streetlamps al looked alike. They stopped at a big restaurant. "I thought we'd better have a little snack. . . . You didn't eat anything al evening," Mar-golies said, giving her hand a squeeze as he helped her out of the car. "That's the berries," said Rodney Cathcart who'd hopped out first. "This dawncing makes a guy beastly 'ungry." The headwaiter bowed almost to the ground and led
them through the restaurant ful of eyes to a table that had been reserved for them on the edge of the dancefloor. Margolies ate shreddedwheat biscuits and milk, Rodney Cathcart ate a steak and Margo took on the end of her fork a few pieces of a lobsterpatty. "A blighter needs a drink after that," grumbled Rodney Cathcart, pushing back his plate after polishing off the last fried potato. Margolies raised two fingers. "Here it is forbidden. . . . How sil y we are in this country. . . . How sil y they are." He rol ed his eyes towards Margo. She caught a wink in time to make it just a twitch of the eyelid and gave him that slow stopped smile he'd made such a fuss over at Palm Springs. Margolies got to his feet. "Come, Margo darling I have something to show you." As she and Rodney Cathcart fol owed him out across the red carpet she could feel ripples of excitement go through the people in the restaurant the way she'd felt it when she went places in Miami after Charley Anderson had been kil ed.
Margolies drove them to a big creamcolored apartment-house. They went up in an elevator. He opened a door with a latchkey and ushered them in. "This," he said, "in my little bachelor flat."
-410-It was a big dark room with a balcony at the end hung with embroideries. The wal s were covered with al kinds of oilpaintings each lit by a little overhead light of its own. There were oriental rugs piled one on the other on the floor and couches round the wal s covered with zebra and lion skins. "Oh, what a wonderful place," said Margo. Margolies turned to her, smiling. "A bit baronial, eh? The sort of thing you're accustomed to see in the castle of a Castilian grandee.""Absolutely," said Margo. Rodney Cathcart lay down ful length on one of the couches. "Say, Sam old top," he said, "have you got any of that good Canadian ale? 'Ow about a little Guinness in it?" Margolies went out into a pantry and the swinging door closed behind him. Margo roamed around looking at the brightcolored pictures and the shelves of wriggling Chinese figures. It made her feel spooky.
"Oh, I say," Rodney Cathcart cal ed from the couch.
"Come over here, Margo. . . . I like you. . . . You've got to cal me Si. . . . My friends cal me that. It's more American.""Al right by me," said Margo, sauntering towards the couch. Rodney Cathcart put out his hand. "Put it there, pal," he said. When she-put her hand in his he grabbed it and tried to pul her towards him on the couch.
"Wouldn't you like to kiss me, Margo?" He had a terrific grip. She could feel how strong he was.
Margolies came back with a tray with bottles and glasses and set it on an ebony stand near the couch. "This is where I do my work," he said. "Genius is helpless without the proper environment. . . . Sit there." He pointed to the couch where Cathcart was lying. "I shot that lion myself.
. . . Excuse me a moment." He went up the stairs to the balcony and a light went on up there. Then a door closed and the light was cut off. The only light in the room was over the pictures. Rodney Cathcart sat up on the edge of the couch. "For crissake, sister, drink something. . . ." Margo started to titter. "Al right, Si, you can give me a
-411-spot of gin," she said and sat down beside him on the couch. He was attractive. She found herself letting him kiss her but right away his hand was working up her leg and she had to get up and walk over to the other side of the room to look at the pictures again. "Oh, don't be sil y," he sighed, letting himself drop back on the couch.