The Sinful Ones by Fritz Leiber Read Free Book Online Page A

noticed this place.”
    “Cities are like that,” she said. “You think you know them, when all you know are routes through them. You think that Joe’s Hamburgers and the Cleanspot Laundry and Reagan’s Mortuary and the woman who’s always dusting on the second floor, where the electric wires dip close to the window, are the whole show. One day you turn a corner the wrong way, and after a dozen steps find something you’ve never seen before.”
    We’re even beginning to talk about life, thought Carr.
    One of the beer-drinkers put two nickels in the jukebox. Low, anticipatory strains eddied out.
    Carr looked toward the bar. “I wonder if there’s a waiter,” he said. “Maybe they don’t server at the tables now.”
    “Who cares?” she said. “Let’s dance.”
    “I don’t imagine it’s allowed,” he said. “They’d have to have another license.”
    “Come on,” she said. He shrugged and followed her.
    There wasn’t much space, but enough. With what struck Carr as a grave and laudable politeness, the beer-drinkers paid no attention to them, though one softly beat time with the bottom of his glass against his palm.
    Jane danced badly, but after a while she got better. Somewhat solemnly they revolved in a modest circle. She was thin. He could feel ribs through the sweater. She said nothing until almost the end of the first number. Then, in a choked voice—
    “It’s been so long since I’ve danced with anyone.”
    “Not with your man with glasses?” he asked quickly.
    She shook her head. “He’s too nervous, serious all the time. He can’t relax—not even pretend.”
    The second record started. After a while her expression cleared. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I’ve got a theory about life,” she said dreamily.
    Yes, thought Carr, it’s exactly like the old days. He put out of his head the momentary suspicion that she was playing with him—very tenderly, but still playing with him. Like a solemn and wide-eyed child telling a story to an adult.
    “I think life has a rhythm,” she began, pausing now and then with the music, her phrases drifting. “It keeps changing with the time of day and year, but it’s always really the same. People feel it without knowing it, and it governs their lives.”
    Another couple came in, took one of the front booths. The bartender wiped his hands on his apron, pushed up the wicket in the bar and walked over to them.
    “I like your theory, Jane,” Carr said. “I like to drift and take things as they come. There’s someone who doesn’t want me to, who’d like to see me fight the current, build a boat—a heavy cruiser with depth charges. But I’d rather follow the rhythm.”
    “Oh, but we’re not following the rhythm,” Jane said. “We’ve broken away from it.”
    “Have we?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “Is that what you mean this afternoon when you wondered if I was ‘awakened’?”
    “Maybe.”
    The music stopped. Carr dug in his pocket for more nickels to put in the jukebox, but she shook her head. They slid back into their booth.
    A telephone rang. The fat bartender carefully put down the tray of drinks he had mixed for the other couple, and went up front to answer it.
    “Sure you don’t want to dance some more?” Carr asked.
    “No, let’s just let things happen to us as they come.”
    “A good idea,” Carr agreed, “provided you don’t push it too far. For instance, we did come here to get a drink.”
    “Yes, we did,” Jane said. A rather impish expression came into her eyes. She glanced at the two drinks standing on the bar. “Those look good,” she said.
    Carr nodded. “I wonder what you have to do to get them,” he remarked irritably.
    “Walk up and take them?”
    He looked at her. “Seriously?”
    “Why not? We were here first. Serve them right.” Her eyes were still lively.
    He grinned at her. “All right,” he said, getting up suddenly, “I will.”
    She didn’t stop him, rather to his surprise. Much