His mouth was opened loosely. He went on blinking.
“I’ll tell you where she is,” Bella said. “She’s sound asleep in a nice clean bed. In a nice clean house. In a nice respectable neighborhood.”
He swallowed hard. He couldn’t say anything.
Bella said, “It stands to reason she wouldn’t stay here. She’d be a damn fool to spend the night in this dump.”
“All right,” he muttered. “That’s enough.”
Bella looked at the cigarette held loosely in her fingers. She spoke to the cigarette. “Sure, the bride took a run-out. And who can blame her? The groom brings her to a house with the plaster chipping off the walls and the furniture coming apart and empty beer bottles all over the floor. It’s a wonder she let herself sit on the sofa. This afternoon she’ll be taking her dress to the cleaners, you can bet on that and your money’s safe. Another thing she’ll do, she’ll go to the beauty parlor and have her hair washed, an extra soaping just to make sure. After all, in these Vernon rat traps you never know, you can pick up anything. What she really oughta do is spray herself with DDT.”
“Shut up,” he said. “You better shut up.”
Bella shrugged. “Well, anyway, she’s breathing easier now. That cleaner, fresher air uptown.”
He stood motionless. The quiet in the room was unbearable, and he knew he had to say something. His mouth was tight as he said, “You don’t get the point. All she did was walk out of the house. She didn’t walk out on me.”
“That ain’t what I’m saying.” Bella spoke very quietly. But now the cigarette trembled in her fingers. “Cantcha see what I’m trying to tell ya? No matter how much she wants you, she can’t get away from uptown. And sure as hell you can’t get away from here.”