“Sure, I’m going to a big party.”
“Lots of girls, I bet.” The pale thin elevator boy was interested.
“A whole lot of them.”
“Boy, I wish I was going out to something like that. This night work is getting me down. I ain’t getting much relaxation.” He winked to show what he meant by relaxation and Holton smiled sympathetically.
Robert Holton stopped by the desk.
“I’ll be back pretty early,” he said to the clerk. He always told them when to expect him, told them from force of habit because no one ever wanted to know.
“Yes, sir,” said the clerk. “Nice night tonight,” he added.
“Nice fall night,” agreed Robert Holton.
They discussed the evening politely. Then Robert Holton left the hotel.
It was darker now and cooler. The night was refreshing and he felt suddenly strong and contented. The depression of the office left him and he was becoming alive. He prepared himself for the party and for the evening ahead. He walked briskly down the street and, to emphasize his mood of sudden power, he hailed a taxi and rode in it happily, without regret for the money he was spending.