I Come as a Theif by Louis Auchincloss Read Free Book Online

What was left but truth?
    "Why did everyone see through me? Did I allow mockery to slip into the service that my lips rendered? Was it that the pale, pasty beauty that I affected, set in a frame of long raven hair, was too reminiscent of the era of real debutantes? Why did even poor Norry, that last fruit of the Pittsburgh tree so long plucked by New York virgins, suspect me of mercenary motives? Why did I so nearly lose him to that little brown bundle of spite, Mamie Rivers, who was somehow able to veil her own passion for gold behind her own bright eyes? Oh, but they couldn't resist me; Norry couldn't resist me. Even knowing me they couldn't resist me, and, damn them all, whatever happens, I've had the world—I've had the whole goddam glittering world. It's not much, God knows, but it's better to have had it than to have had nothing! Nothing, anyway, but cant and hypocrisy and the pretense of living for anyone but your own sole, solitary, bitchy, selfish self."
    She switched off the machine as she saw Len in the doorway. "Blast you, Len, what do you want?"
    "Sorry, Ma'am. Will you speak to Mr. Lowder?"
    "Of course, 111 speak to Mr. Lowder." She sat up and picked the gray telephone out of the linen-fold box. "If you're telling me you're not coming for dinner, Tony, I'll never forgive you."
    "It's not that," his voice replied. "Lee just phoned to say she has flu."
    "But you're coming?"
    "Unless that puts your table out."
    "Kid on. Look, Tony, come early, will you? Tell Lee I've changed the hour to seven."
    "Shell never believe that."
    "Well, then tell her it's business. God damn it, I'm a client, aren't I? Just because you've gone into government doesn't mean you can throw me over. I'll see you at seven. Not a minute later."
    Tony's voice became stubborn. "You think just because you helped finance my campaign, you can order me around."
    "Damn right I do."
    "Well, think again."
    She changed her tone to a mocking whine. "All right, Albert, it's not the Queen. It's Vicky, your loving wife. Now will you come? Please?"
    When he had rung off, Joan felt better. If there had been no afternoon to fill until dinner time she might have been almost content. There was something about Tony that always dispelled fear—probably the simple fact that he was immune to it. While she was with him, she shared some of his immunity. And she could sleep until six. She had a pill for that.
    ***
    At eight o'clock the big room, brightly lit, smelled agreeably of incense. Joan, in white, wearing her rubies, drinking a glass of undiluted gin, pretended for a while to listen to Tony's political chatter.
    "I feel so content and secure," she interrupted. "Do you ever feel content and secure? All of a sudden? As if you and I existed all alone and nobody else was really real?"
    "I feel that way sometimes after I've drunk as much as you have. What's got into you tonight, Joan? Your guests will be here in a minute."
    "I don't care. I don't worry. Do you ever worry?"
    "Oh, yes."
    "Over what?"
    "Oh, over something that you haven't had to worry about for many a year."
    "Money, I suppose."
    "How you say that! As if it were something trivial, faintly absurd. Even contemptible."
    "It is. Believe me, Tony. It is. It's worse. It's a bore."
    "Then why not get rid of it?"
    "It's not mine. It's Norry's. Oh, I have a little, of course. Would you like it? Shall I give it to you?" Tony was pushing the crystal ashtray on the table back and forth in a gesture of impatience. "But I mean it," she protested. "It's not just the gin. You're my only real friend, and I love you. Why should you be worried when I have money? Why should I not share it with such a friend? How much do you need?" Tony, however, continued to brood. "Seriously, lover, how much?"
    "Perhaps I could accept a loan," he muttered.
    "Certainly. Speak to Mr. Nash at the bank. I'll tell him to do anything you say."
    "I don't want you to think I'm going to grab the moon. Forty thousand would be a Godsend. Forty