The Black Marble Read Online Free

uproariously at one of Wendell Hargrove’s dreadful jokes. Hargrove was a third-generation stockbroker and an “A” tennis player, which was the only thing keeping his fifty-year-old body intact, what with the fifth of booze he consumed at noon luncheons at the California Club in downtown Los Angeles. Were it not for his daily tennis, everyone knew that his fierce aging body could never withstand the massive bourbon dosage.
    â€œGuess we won’t need that fourth for mixed doubles, Madeline,” Edna Lofton smiled. “Marcie’s going to play again. So you can go ahead.”
    â€œGo ahead what?” Wendell Hargrove asked.
    â€œGo ahead and have another double Scotch,” Edna laughed. Then she added: “I might even have one.”
    But the damage was done. Madeline blushed painfully. Edna looked with curiosity at Madeline’s companion and thrust out her hand: “Hi, I’m Edna Lofton.”
    â€œOh? Pleased to meet you. I’m Irwin Berg.”
    Madeline said, “Dr. Berg’s a guest of … who are you a guest of?”
    â€œMr. and Mrs. Bates. I met them at the Atheneum. They’re watching the match.”
    â€œYou an M.D.?” Hargrove asked thickly and Madeline saw that he was well past any more tennis this day.
    â€œDr. Berg teaches at Cal Tech. He’s an astrophysicist,” Madeline offered, subtly eyeing the barman, who nodded and reached discreetly for the Chivas Regal.
    â€œReally?” Edna said. “Don’t get many astrophysicists in the Hunt Club.”
    Later that evening, Madeline, showered and dressed in a basic dark pantsuit, was standing alone at the dessert table deciding to pass the entrée in favor of some strudel and chocolate mousse when Edna Lofton got up from her table and crossed the dining room to talk to her.
    â€œIs Dr. Goldberg with you, Madeline?” she asked, walking Madeline toward the empty drawing room.
    â€œDr. Berg. No, he’s not with me. Why?”
    â€œHe’s sure a cute little fellow,” Edna winked, batting her evening eyelashes.
    â€œI suppose so,” Madeline said cautiously.
    â€œPlay your cards right, Mad, and he might invite you to some of those fun Cal Tech science parties at the Atheneum. A lot of mature , visiting professors must be awfully lonely for one of the few available single ladies they’d be proud to take just anywhere!”
    â€œEdna …” Madeline sputtered, but too late. Edna Lofton had turned and was hurrying toward her guests in the dining room.
    Madeline Dills Whitfield had stood alone in the empty drawing room and looked vacantly at the landscape painting as though she had never seen it before. She had seen it all her life. She suddenly longed for the paintings of hunters and hounds. In the bar.
    A single lady. As though it were Madeline’s fault. As though she had planned to be a single lady. She had never known anyone who had planned to be a single lady. Madeline Dills had never even lived away from her parents except for college terms at U.S.C., ten miles from Pasadena. Had never lived anywhere else except for six months in Europe with her parents when her father sold his interest in the orthopedic clinic and took a long vacation. She had never in her life given a single thought to being a single lady.
    She was the daughter of Dr. Corey Dills and the wife of Mason Whitfield. She had willingly surrendered her Christian as well as her maiden name.
    It had always been: “Mrs. Mason Whitfield is giving a tea Wednesday afternoon …”
    Madeline Dills, by Dr. Corey Dills out of Mrs. Corey Dills. Edna Lofton, by Mr. Bradford Lofton out of Mrs. Bradford Lofton. They had to give up both names. Androgynous. Mr. Mason Whitfield and Mrs. Mason Whitfield. Hermaphroditic!
    The stag ruled. It was her heritage and she accepted it. Which is perhaps why she didn’t make a fuss during the divorce. Her family trust fund was much larger