“All right we’ll go to my house. Might as well be hanged for a sheep.... Driver please go to Bank Street. The taxi started. They were jolting through the crisscross planes of red light, green light, yellow light beaded with lettering of Broadway. Suddenly Stan leaned over her and kissed her hard very quickly on the mouth.
“Stan you’ve got to stop drinking. It’s getting beyond a joke.”
“Why shouldn’t things get beyond a joke? You’re getting beyond a joke and I dont complain.”
“But darling you’ll kill yourself.”
“Well?”
“Oh I dont understand you Stan.”
“I dont understand you Ellie, but I love you very ... exordinately much.” There was a broken tremor in his very low voice that stunned her with happiness.
Ellen paid the taxi. Siren throbbing in an upward shriek that burst and trailed in a dull wail down the street, a fire engine went by red and gleaming, then a hookandladder with bell clanging.
“Let’s go to the fire Ellie.”
“With you in those clothes.... We’ll do no such thing.”