"I lied to her about that. I'm still trying to."
"So I've got to do it to myself. And I haven't started yet?"
"Check. But you're several years younger than I am, you know."
Belle thought it over for a minute, then stubbed out her cigarette and shrugged her shoulders. "No sale. Put it back on the shelf. I like me better the way I am. That is, I think I do.... In a way, though, I'm sorry, Clee darling."
"Darling? Something new has been added. I wish you really meant that, ace."
"I'm still 'ace' after what I just said? I'm glad, Clee. 'Ace' is ever so much nicer than 'chum.'"
"Ace. The top of the deck. You are, and always will be."
"As for meaning it, I wish I didn't." Ready for bed, Belle was much more completely and much less revealingly dressed than during her working hours. She slid into bed beside him, pulled the covers up to her chin, and turned off the light by glancing at the switch. "If I thought anything could ever come of it, though, I'd do it if I had to pound myself unconscious with a club. But I wouldn't be here, then, either—I'd scoot into my own room so fast my head would spin."
"You wouldn't have to. You wouldn't be here."