“There are some magazines over there and—”
“Never mind the magazines,” I said. “I want to sleep.”
“All right. Donald, what’s happened to your nose? It’s bleeding.
I pulled a fresh handkerchief out of my pocket and said, “It got hurt. It’s been bleeding every hour or two since.”
“It looks all swollen and red — and sore.”
“It is swollen and red,” I said, “and the reason it looks sore is because it is sore.”
She laughed and said, “You must be hard to get along with. First it was a black eye, and now it’s a swollen nose.”
She perched a hat that looked like an inverted flower pot on one side of her head and slipped into a coat.
I said, “How about a taxi? Do you have a phone?”
“Oh, yes, but I can pick one up at the boulevard.”