And Martin, through his friend, felt a definite, new motion in the color of the air—a deliberate music brought by the full season. In both retrospect and in the moment, Martin watched Huysmans, that frightened older brother, break the skyline into small patches of dim lights between the darkened buildings.
So still was the atmosphere that the two friends felt annoyed at the sight of a lighted tavern. But they stopped in for a drink nevertheless, then went on slowly toward Martin’s rooming house.
“Say, Martin,” said Rio finally. “I been thinkin’ over that act you pulled with Roberts. I don’t get it.” He laughed. “It’s funny, though.”
“It really wasn’t an act,” replied Martin.
Rio looked at him through the darkness.
“You mean——”
“Good Lord, no!” interrupted Martin. “I’ll admit, it’s difficult to understand—even for me. But the way he stood, the way he smiled, and his new threat (remember, he’s carried them out before!) made me break loose. I kept thinking, as I looked at him, that he’d always asked me for something that he didn’t want. When I called him, I must have known he wasn’t real. For when I pretended a consummation he was frightened and ashamed.”
Rio shook his head.
“You’re a brave lad. It makes me sick to think about it.”