BUtterfield 8 Read Online Free

to the damn church and then I go back to the office and copy the sermon or paste it up. All I do is write a lead, like ‘The depression has awakened the faith of the American people, according to the Reverend Makepeace John Meriwether, don’t spell it with an
a
or you’re fired, rector of Grace Methodist Episcopal Free Patrick’s Cathedral.’ And so on. May I have some cream?”
    “I’m afraid I’ve used up all the cream. Will milk do?”
    “Damn, you have a nice figure, Isabel. Move around some more. Walk over to the window.”
    “I will not.” She sat down. “What do you really contemplate doing?”
    “No Plaza? Not even when I’m in the chips?”
    “Why are you rich?”
    “I sold something to
The
New Yorker
.”
    “Oh, really? What?”
    “Well, about a month ago I was on a story up near Grant’s Tomb and I discovered this houseboat colony across the river. People live there in these houseboats all winter long. They have gas and electricity and lights and radios, and all winter the houseboats are mounted on piles, wooden piles. Then in the Spring they get a tug to tow them out to Rockaway or some such place, and they live out there all summer. I thought it would make a good story for the Talk of the Town department, so I found out all about it and sent it in, and yesterday I got a check for thirty-six dollars, which comes in mighty handy. They want me to do some more for them.”
    “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”
    “I guess so. Of course I can’t do a great deal, because believe it or not I have a job, and the novel.”
    “How’s the novel coming?”
    “Like Santa Claus. And you know about Santa Claus.”
    “I think I’ll leave you.”
    “Permanently?”
    “A few more like that last one and yes, permanently. Such a lovely day to go to the country.” She got up and stood at the window. “Look at those men. I never get tired of watching them.”
    “What men? I’m too comfortable to get up and look at men. You tell me about them.”
    “The men with the pigeons. They stay up on the roof all day, every Sunday, and chase the pigeons off. Our maid said the idea is that a man has a flock of pigeons, say eighteen, and the reason he chases them off is that he hopes that when they come back there’ll be nineteen or twenty. A pigeon or two from another flock gets confused and joins them, and increases the man’s flock. It isn’t
exactly
stealing.”
    “But you won’t have breakfast at the Plaza?”
    “I’ve had breakfast, and I’ll bet you have too.”
    “As much as I ever have. Orange juice, toast and marmalade, coffee. I just thought we’d have kidneys and stuff, omelette, fried potatoes. Like the English. But if you don’t want to, we won’t. I just thought it’d be fun, or at least different.”
    “Some other time. But I’ll dress and we can spend your money some other way, if you insist.”
    “I am not unmindful of the fact that I owe you ten dollars.”
    “We’ll spend that first. Now I’ll go dress.”
    He picked up a few sections of the paper. “The
Times
!” he shouted. “You’ll never see my stories in the
Times
. What’s the idea?” But she had closed the door of the bedroom. In ten minutes she reappeared.
    “Mm. Nice. Nice. Mm.”
    “Like it?”
    “It’s the best dress I’ve ever seen. And the hat, too. It’s a cute little hat. I think girls’ hats are better this year than they’ve ever been. They’re so damn
cute
. I guess it has something to do with the way they do their hair.”
    “I guess it has a whole lot to do with the way they do their hair. Mine’s still damp and looks like the wrath of God, and that’s your fault. I wouldn’t have taken a shower if I’d known we weren’t going to the country. I’d have had a real bath and wouldn’t have got my hair wet. Remind me to stop at a drug store—”
    “Darling, I’m so glad!”
    “—for a decent bathing cap. Jimmy, before we go, I want to tell you again, for the last time you’ve