solemnly.
âHow about to me?â demanded Nikki.
There was much laughter at their table, in a rather soprano key. Ellery watched Dirk with care. He did not like what he saw, and when they separated in the Lawrence lobby he managed to whisper to Nikki, âWatch out for squalls.â
Dirk insisted on working all day Sunday, and on Monday morning, in a new hat and with a light step, Martha left for the theater âto find out,â as she grimaced to Nikki, âhow much money we lost last week.â The Alex Conn play was tapering off after a fairish run, and Martha was looking around for a fall production.
The squall threatened that very morning.
Dirkâs exhilaration left the apartment with Martha. His dictation floundered and sank. Nikki tried desperately to resuscitate him. Years of working for a writer had taught her a whole manual of first-aid tricks. She finally gave up.
âYou couldnât expect to keep this pace indefinitely, Dirk,â she said matter-of-factly. âLetâs knock off and take a walk by the river for an hour. I walk Ellery regularly, like a dog.â
But Dirkâs only response was a mutter as he turned to his portable bar. âIâll be all right. What I need is a drink.â
At noon Martha phoned and Nikki felt a great fear. Dirkâs mood was unrelieved black by now, and the slow turn of his head as Nikki said, âItâs Martha, Dirk,â seemed to her to be moved by something lethal.
âWhere are you?â Dirk growled.
âAt the theater, darling. How are things going?â
âWhat are you doing?â
âGoing over the treasurerâs report. Dirk, I think we ought to closeâWhatâs the matter?â
âMatter? Nothing. When are you coming home?â
âRight now, darling, if you want me to.â
âI donât want you to do anything. You have your workââ
âIâm on my way,â said Martha.
With Marthaâs return, Dirkâs mood melted. He dictated at high speed for the rest of the day.
Tuesday was a repetition of Monday.
On Wednesday the inevitable happened. Martha could not come home at the psychological moment. She was tied up at the theater in a tangle of conferences preparatory to closing the play. And this time Dirkâs mood froze hard. By the time Martha got back to the apartment he was drunkâso drunk the two women had to help him to bed.
âPoor Nikki,â Martha said. The old dead calm had settled over her. âI donât know why you should have to go through all this. Itâs hopeless.â
âItâs not hopeless!â Nikki said hysterically. âNot so long as I can get him so drunk he passes out. Iâm not going to give up, Martha, Iâm not!â
She managed to struggle through the rest of the week.
On Sunday Martha and Dirk drove up to Connecticut for dinner with Dirkâs publisher, and Nikki felt as if she had been released from a psychopathic ward.
âI donât know whatâs the matter with him,â she told Ellery as they wandered down lower Fifth Avenue towards Washington Square Park in the quiet sun. âHeâs like two people of opposite temperaments in one body. Heâll be way up one minute and in the blackest depths the next. Heâll race along dictating really good stuff for fifteen minutes, then all of a sudden he peters out, nothing comes, and he sinks into a kind of witless sluggishness, as if he were doped. Sometimes heâs enthusiastic and naive, like a little boy, and in the next breath heâs as bitter and disillusioned as a sick old man. I thought you were hard to live with, Ellery, but compared with Dirk youâre Little Merry Sunshine.â
âI care for this less and less,â mumbled Ellery. âHow about you pulling out?â
âI canât quit on Martha now, Ellery. And I do have one consolationâIâm not married to him.â
Ellery was