“Get up out of there Stan.... You’re soaked.”
He threw back his head and his eyes snapped open. “Why so I am.” He raised himself with his hands on the sides of the tub and stood swaying, dripping into the water that was yellow from his clothes and shoes, braying his loud laugh. Ellen leaned against the bathroom door laughing with her eyes full of tears.
“You cant get mad at him Milly, that’s what makes him so exasperating. Oh what are we going to do?”
“Lucky he wasnt drownded.... Give me your papers and pocketbook sir. I’ll try and dry em with a towel,” said Milly.
“But you cant go past the doorman like that ... even if we wring you out.... Stan you’ve got to take off all your clothes and put on a dress of mine. Then you can wear my rain cape and we can whisk into a taxicab and take you home.... What do you think Milly?”
Milly was rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she wrung out Stan’s coat. In the washbasin she had piled the soppy remains of a pocketbook, a pad, pencils, a jacknife, two rolls of film, a flask.
“I wanted a bath anyway,” said Stan.
“Oh I could beat you. Well you’re sober at least.”
“Sober as a penguin.”
“Well you’ve got to dress up in my clothes that’s all....”