“No,” she said. “I did it myself. I tried to cut it by looking in a mirror. I made a mess of it, but it didn’t matter. It was too long, and all I wanted to do was hack it off so it wouldn’t be so hot, and so I could get it inside the cap when I went swimming.”
She certainly lived a wonderful life up there, I thought bitterly. But I’ll make it up to her now.
“Where did he get the money for all that whisky?” I asked. “He didn’t make that much from the fish he sold.”
“No. He didn’t buy it. I think the man who rented boats down at the store was a bootlegger or made whisky or something. He used to give it to Roger for repairing boats and motors and things like that. He was handy with tools. But do we have to talk about it, Jack?”
“No,” I said. “It’s all over now.”
It was dark outside now. The floor lamp in the corner was turned on, and as I sat on the side of the bed, smoking, I could see the litter of opened parcels and the wrapping paper scattered about the floor. She had been in the bathroom for a long time, while I listened to her splashing in the tub, then she had come out, wearing the new robe she had bought, and opened all the other packages. Gathering up some of the things, she had gone back promising to put them on so I could see how they looked. As I sat there now, waiting for her, I suddenly remembered the watch that was still in the pocket of my coat. I’d forgotten to give it to her. When she comes out, I thought.
Thinking of the watch reminded me of the time and I looked at mine. It was after eight. The first editions of the morning papers should be on the street in a little while, if they weren’t already. I should go down to the lobby and get them, I thought, but it was too pleasant just sitting there waiting for her to come out again so I could see how she looked. I’ll pick them up when we go out to dinner, I thought.
I heard the door open, and looked up and whistled softly. She was very tall and smart-looking and cool in a white skirt and short white jacket, with a blouse of frosty blue gathered in some kind of ruffle about her throat. The stockings were very sheer and she had on white shoes that didn’t appear to be much more than high heels and straps.
She turned, holding out her arms. “How do I look, Jack?”
“Don’t come any closer. I might try to bite you.”
“Do I really look all right?”
I got up from the bed, conscious of what a crumby-looking specimen I was now beside her, with nothing on except my shorts and with the stubble of black beard beginning to show, and went over to my coat. I took out the little parcel and handed it to her.
“This is for you,” I said, “because you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She took it, looking at me wonderingly. “Go ahead,” I said. “Open it. It’s for you. I bought it while I was waiting for you today.”
She unwrapped it and held the oblong case in her hands a moment before she snapped it open. I heard the little gasp as she looked inside. “Oh, what a lovely thing! Jack, you didn’t have to do this for me.”
“I told you why I did it,” I said.
She looked up at me with her eyes a little wet. “Jack I believe you do think I’m beautiful.”
“Aren’t you?” I asked quietly.
She nodded, not speaking for a moment. “Yes,” she said then. “I feel beautiful, anyway.”
I met her up the street and we went to dinner. It was very dim, with candles, and we had a table in a corner by ourselves. I didn’t buy the papers after all, not before dinner, for I knew I wouldn’t read them before we got back anyway, and the later editions would be out then. I couldn’t sit down across from her and look at a paper, no matter what news I was expecting.
After a while we went back to the hotel. She went in first and I bought the papers and followed her. She had the white suit off and was changing to the robe when I got