As we walked along the broad, thickly carpeted corridor to my room, I said, “Do you know this guy Killeano?”
“And I was hoping you were thinking only of me,” she said, reproachfully.
“I got a split mind,” I said. “I think of two things at once.”
I unlocked my door, and she followed me in. I never did get an answer to that question.
When I closed the door I found I didn’t have a split mind after all.
Miss Wonderly disengaged herself, but only after I got a buzzing in my ears.
“I came to look at the view—remember?” she said, but I could see by the rise and fall of her chest she wasn’t much colder than me.
“It’s a swell view,” I said, and we went across the room to look at it. As I passed a mirror I saw my mouth had a smear of lipstick on it. I even got a bang out of that.
We stood on the balcony. The moon was like a pumpkin. The traffic had gone to bed, and only a straggler or two roamed along the coast road.
I undid the buttons of her blouse. She’d taken off her bolero coat on her way up. She leaned against me and held my hands.