Where Love Has Gone by Harold Robbins Read Free Book Online Page B

Arlene talks too much,” she said. “It’s not definite yet.” She looked after Professor Bell. “Do you really think he’ll take something?”
    “Who knows? We’ll keep our fingers crossed. It’s time San Francisco came up with another real sculptor besides Bufano.”
    “Do you think I’m real, Sam?” she said, a sudden seriousness in her eyes.
    “You’re the realest there is,” he said, equally serious. “And I have a hunch Bell will agree with
    me.”

    She took a deep breath. “Then I’ll keep both my fingers and toes crossed.”
    He turned back to her and smiled. “If it works, maybe for a change I won’t have to listen to an
    artistwho claims that the only true inspiration is to be found in Marxism.” She laughed. “Poor Sam, you do have your troubles, don’t you?”
    “How would you know?” he asked wryly. “I haven’t seen much of you lately.”
    She put her hand on his arm. “It isn’t that I love you any the less, Sam. It’s just that I’ve been doing my bit. Between the aircraft factory and the studio I haven’t been able to get around very much.”
    “You seem sort of tense. What you need is one of my famous relaxing treatments.”
    She looked at him thoughtfully. Neither of them was a fool. And favors were favors. It meant nothing and it meant everything. That was the kind of world they lived in. “It has been a long time, Sam, hasn’t it?”
    “Too long,” he replied.
    “Do you think the doctor could find time for me tonight?” “I think he might manage. About eight, at my place?”
    “I’ll be there.”
    She watched him as he walked up to Professor Bell. She tried to hear what they were saying but a hand on her arm turned her away.
    “How is it going, my dear?” “Fine, Mother.”
    “I’m glad.” Cecelia Hayden smiled. She didn’t smile very often, and it lit up the bright blue eyes under her carefully combed white hair. “I was wondering if you had time to do me a little favor.”
    “What is it, Mother?”
    “There’s a young man, the son of a friend of your father’s. I had forgotten about your show when I invited him for cocktails this afternoon. He’ll probably stay for dinner.”
    “Oh, Mother!” Nora said in an exasperated voice. “This just isn’t the time. I’ve got too many things on my mind.”
    “Please, dear.”
    Nora looked at her mother. Those two words left no room for argument. Despite her frail appearance, Cecelia Hayden was hard as a rock.
    “He seems such a nice young man,” she continued. “A war hero. And he has just three days before he returns to duty. I’m sure you’ll like him. I told Charles to bring him over when he arrived.”
    Nora nodded and turned just as Sam came over to her, an excited expression on his face. “He wants The Dying Man .”
    “Not that one!” Her voice filled with dismay. “He likes it.”
    “Talk him out of it,” she begged. “I didn’t even want to have it on display. I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t needed a big piece to fill up that corner. I don’t even work that way anymore.”
    “It doesn’t matter. That’s the one he wants.”
    She turned and looked through the crowd at the large iron figure. It was a man half sunk to the ground, leaning on his elbow with one hand across his heart, an expression of agony contorting his features. She remembered the excitement of working on it, but it somehow seemed ugly to her now.
    “Please, Sam, talk him into something else!”
    “Not me, not after he told me that this was the first time he’d ever seen an artist capture the exact moment of death in sculpture.”
    She stared at him. “He really said that?” Sam nodded.
    She looked toward the statue again, trying to see in it what the teacher had. “All right,” she said finally.
    “Good, I’ll tell him he can have it.”
    At least it was a big piece, she thought consolingly. And that was better to have in a mixed show than a small one. People couldn’t miss seeing it.
    She was standing