“About what happened.”
“You mean last night? Why not try it out on me and see how it goes? That doesn’t take guts, just go ahead and let it come, keep your voice down and let it flow.”
She didn’t hear a word. Her ears were disconnected. She kept her brown eyes, under the long lashes, straight at me.
“How it happened this morning. How I was going back to my booth after I finished Mr. Levinson in Philip’s chair, and he called me into Tina’s booth and he seized me, with one hand on my throat so I couldn’t scream, and there was no doubt at all what he intended, so I grabbed the scissors from the shelf and, without realizing what I was doing, plunged them into him with all my strength, and his grip on me loosened, and he collapsed onto the chair. That’s what I would do if I had any guts and if I really want a successful career the way I say I do. I would have to be arrested and have a trial, and then—”
“Hold it. Your pronouns. Mr. Levinson called you into Tina’s booth?”
“Certainly not. That man that got killed.” She tilted her head back. “See the marks on my throat?”
There was no mark whatever on her smooth pretty throat.
“Good Lord,” I said. “That would get you top billing anywhere.”
“That’s what I was saying.”
“Then go ahead and tell it.”