The Complete Stories of Truman Capote Read Online Free Page A

together.
    “Of course, yes of course,” Mrs. Munson said, letting the “course” trill down softly.
    “I said to myself, ‘Vini Rondo, what on earth do you need that coat for? Why not let Bertha have it?’ You see, Bertha, I bought the most gorgeous sable in Paris and you can understand that I really don’t need two fur coats. Besides I have my silver-fox jacket.”
    Mrs. Munson watched her parting the tissue paper in the box, saw the chipped enamel on her nails, saw that her fingers were jewel-less, and suddenly realized a great many other things.
    “So I thought of you and unless you want it I’ll just keep it because I couldn’t bear to think of anyone else having it.” She held the coat and stood turning it this way and that. It was a beautiful coat; the fur shone rich and very smooth. Mrs. Munson reached out and ran her fingers across it, ruffling the tiny hairs the wrong way. Without thinking she said: “How much?”
    Mrs. Munson brought back her hand quickly, as though she had touched fire, and then she heard Vini’s voice, small and tired.
    “I paid almost a thousand for it. Is a thousand too much?”
    Down in the street Mrs. Munson could hear the deafening roar of the playground and for once she was grateful. It gave her something else to concentrate on, something to lessen the intensity of her own feelings.
    “I’m afraid that’s too much. I really can’t afford it,” Mrs. Munson said distractedly, still staring at the coat, afraid to lift her eyes and see the other woman’s face.
    Vini tossed the coat on the couch. “Well, I want you to have it. It’s not so much the money, but I feel I should get something back on my investment.… How much could you afford?”
    Mrs. Munson closed her eyes. Oh, God, this was awful! Just plain damned awful!
    “Maybe four hundred,” she answered weakly.
    Vini picked up the coat again and said brightly, “Let’s see how it fits then.”
    They went into the bedroom and Mrs. Munson tried on the coat in front of her full-length closet mirror. Just a few alterations, the sleeves shortened, and maybe she would have it re-glazed. Yes, it certainly did things for her.
    “Oh, I think it’s beautiful, Vini. It was so sweet of you to think of me.”
    Vini leaned against the wall, her pale face looking hard in the magnified sunlight of the big bedroom windows.
    “You can make out the check to me,” she said disinterestedly.
    “Yes, of course,” Mrs. Munson said, suddenly coming back to earth. Imagine Bertha Munson with a mink of her own!
    They went back into the livingroom and she wrote the check for Vini. Carefully folding it, Vini deposited it in her small beaded purse.
    Mrs. Munson tried hard to make conversation but she came up against a cold wall at each new channel. Once she asked, “Where is your husband, Vini? You must bring him around for Albert to talk to.” And Vini answered, “Oh, him! I haven’t seen him for aeons. He’s still in Lisbon for all I know.” And so that was that.
    Finally, after promising to phone the next day, Vini left. When she had gone Mrs. Munson thought, “Why, poor Vini, she’s nothing but a refugee!” Then she took her new coat and went into the bedroom. She couldn’t tell Albert how she got it, that was definite. My, but he would be mad about the money! She decided to hide it in the furthest reaches of her closet and then one day she’d bring it out and say, “Albert, look at the divine mink I bought at an auction. I got it for next to nothing.”
    Groping in the darkness of her closet she caught the coat on a hook. She gave a little yank and was terrified to hear the sound of ripping. Quickly she snapped on the light and saw that the sleeve was torn. She held the tear apart and pulled slightly. It ripped moreand then some more. With a sick emptiness she knew the whole thing was rotten. “Oh, my God,” she said, clutching at the linen rose in her hair. “Oh, my God, I’ve been taken and taken good, and there’s