"Whit's hopeless, he loves me so. I hope he doesn't go off the deep end, and end up whacky. Maybe we'll have to relay him some instrument checks, to keep him busy. Or maybe, if I told him I'd marry him it would keep him leveled for a while. Can't say that too soon, though, or he'd go nuts from jealousy. I guess I'll just have to keep on letting him love me, just being me, just showing him I care about him as much as I can. He's a dear, really."
That was the way Suzy mused, in her drab little office, after hours, doing her job for her men, her hopes up in the sky where only her voice and her love could reach them.
Miss Graham was stiff, and stood tall in her prim tailored suit. Her dark man's necktie clashed with her hair and her complexion, but her face was kind and her voice, although firm, was soft and understanding.
"Suzy, I want to talk to you. Don't get up."
"Yes, Miss Graham?"
"I've been listening to some of your records. Some of this stuff you've been putting out is going to make us trouble, you know."
"I'm sorry, Miss Graham. I try to do what I think is best, and you know I spend a lot of time planning. It's too late to shift poor Crazy Cat to anybody else, and it's the only thing that seems...."
"I'm not talking about Crazy Cat Tompkins, Suzy," interrupted Miss Graham. "I'm talking about Whit Clayborne."
"I see. I know I shouldn't have said that I'd marry him, but gosh, he was just about to go to pieces, right while I was talking to him. I could hear him grit his teeth, and I could hear the mike squeak with the grip he had on it. It was awful, Miss Graham."