The Lonely Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

floor.
    He was dancing with Marian Daley, who was pressing herself tightly against him. Her full breasts swelled over the top of her dress and she was smiling wet-lipped into his face. He was looking down at her and dancing even closer than before. Then he was whispering something in her ear. She laughed and nodded and a moment later they were leaving the floor on the way outside to his car.
    It all seemed so real that for a second she expected to meet them in the parking lot. She began to hurry as if to avoid seeing them, then she stopped abruptly.
    JeriLee, she said to herself, what’s the matter with you? You must be going crazy!
    “Going to the bus, JeriLee?” said a voice from behind her.
    She turned. It was Martin Finnegan, one of the beach boys who bused in the dining room on Saturday nights. They all thought he was rather strange because he kept mostly to himself. “Yes, Martin.”
    “Mind if I walk with you?”
    “Okay.”
    Silently he fell into step with her. They had walked almost a block before he spoke. “Did you and Bernie have a fight?”
    “No. What makes you think that?”
    “I never saw you take the bus before.”
    “I was just too tired to stay for the dance tonight. You never stay for the dances, do you?” she asked.
    “No.”
    “Don’t you like to dance?”
    “Sure.”
    “Then, why don’t you stay?”
    “I have to be up early to go to work.”
    “You don’t start on the beach until ten thirty.”
    “I work at Lassky’s Sunday mornings and have to be at the station at five to pick up the New York papers.” He looked at her. “During the week you get the
Herald Tribune
every morning, but on Sundays you get the
Times
as well.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “I make up the papers for the home routes. I know exactly what papers everyone reads.”
    “That’s interesting.”
    “It sure is. It’s amazing how much you can learn about people just from knowing what papers they read. For example, your father’s boss, Mr. Carson. His favorite paper is the
Daily Mirror
.”
    “The
Daily Mirror
? I wonder why.”
    He smiled. “I know why. It’s the only paper that has complete race results from all the tracks in the country. I often wonder what people would think if they knew that the president of the only bank in town played the horses?”
    “Do you really think he does?”
    “Lassky calls it the closet horse player’s
Green Sheet
. That’s strictly a horse-racing paper.”
    They were almost at the bus stop. “Are you going steady with Bernie?” he asked.
    “Bernie is a good friend.”
    “He says you’re his girl.”
    “I like Bernie but he has no right to say that.”
    “Would you go out with another guy if he asked you?”
    “I might.”
    “Would you go out with me?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “I haven’t got the money that Bernie’s got an’ I haven’t got a car but I could spring for a movie and a Coke one night if you want.” There was a hesitant tone in his voice.
    “Maybe we’ll do that one night,” she said gently. “But if we do, we go dutch.”
    “You don’t have to do that. I could afford that much, really I can.”
    “I know but that’s the way I do it with Bernie.”
    “You do?”
    “Yes.”
    “All right then,” he said, smiling suddenly. “Gee, that makes me feel good. I wanted to ask you out so many times but I was always afraid to.”
    She laughed. “It wasn’t too difficult, was it?”
    “No,” he said. “One night next week?”
    “Sure.”
    The bus squeaked to a stop in front of them and the door opened. He insisted on paying her fare, and since it was only a dime she let him.
    “Gee, JeriLee,” he said, “you really are very nice.”
    “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Ginnegan.” She noticed that he had been carrying a book. “What’s that you’re reading?”
    “
The Young Manhood of Studs Lonigan
, by James T. Farrell.”
    “I never heard of it. Is it any good?”
    “I think so. In some ways it reminds me of my own