cw.blackalibi-第21节

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elect。　Those　were　the　places　to　seek　out　then。　That　was　the　cream　of　the　night　life；　swarming　with　the　sports；　the　swells；　the　heavy　spenders。　Most　of　them　had　cabaret　entertainment；　if　not；　tango　bands　and　dancing　at　the　very　least。　Benedictine；　then。　Crиme　de　menthe。　Sometimes　even　champagne。
　　It　tapered　off　quickly　after　that。　From　about　three　on；　that　was　the　lees　of　the　night。　That　was　the　time　to　watch　out　for。　That　was　the　time　when　the　laughter　died　down；　lights　started　thin　ning　and　the　shadows　came　creeping　on；　and　if　you　were　smart　you　didn't　hang　around　any　more；　you　went　on　home。　It　was　a　bad　time。　〃The　Blue　Hour；〃　some　of　them　called　it。　〃The　Deathwatch；〃　others。　It　was　a　time　when　things　sometimes　happened。　Things　they　told　you　about　behind　the　back　of　the　hand。　If　they　were　going　to　at　all；　that　was　when　they　did。
　　So　it　will　be　seen；　Clo…Clo　was　on　the　town。　The　technical　designation　for　her　might　be　a　little　harder　to　arrive　at。　She　was　acquiring　a　second　nickname；　in　fact；　that　threatened　to　obliterate　the　first。　〃　Enganadora；〃　the　little　cheat。　Fulfillment　withheld　for　promises　implicit　in　her　very　presence　at　the　places　she　went。　She　honored　obligations　only　when　cornered；　and　even　then；　in　a　manner　that　made　it　hardly　worth　while；　except　for　professional　wrestlers。　She　had　already　had　one　or　two　brushes　with　the　police；　not　because　of　her　supposed　activities；　but　because　of　their　absence。　Others　in　her　own　immediate　bracket　would　warn　her；　〃Look　out；　chica；　you'll　be　getting　a　bad　reputation。　Once　you　do；　they'll　steer　clear　of　you　like　a　bad　case　of　smallpox。〃　In　other　words；　in　the　underworld　a　bad　reputation　was　directly　inverse　to　what　was　monly　meant　by　One　in　the　upperworid。
　　Nonetheless；　Clo…Clo　remained　stubbornly；　you　might　even　say　fanatically；　virtuous　at　heart。　Her　every　instinct　was　that　of　the　good；　respectable；　industrious　middle…class　girl　who　expects　to　be　a　wife　someday。　She　had　her　own　future　all　staked　out。　By　thirty　at　the　latest　she　was　going　to　be　married　to　some　honest；　hard…working　fellow；　and　have　a　raft　of　kids；　and　maybe　a　little　produce　farm　outside　of　town；　just　a　patch。　And　if　any　of　them　were　girls；　and　so　much　as　looked　at　anybody；　she'd　knock　the　left　side　of　their　faces　loose　from　the　right。
　　She　still　had　eleven　years　and　six　months　to　go。
　　This　interlude；　therefore；　was　not　a　question　of　looseness　of　character；　it　was　a　matter　of　financial　stringency。　Her　intrinsic　morality　was　not　in　the　least　impaired　by　it。　Strangers　in　bars　couldn't　reach　that。　It　was　simply　being　bent　a　little　to　permit　her　to　achieve　financial　security。
　　At　home；　in　the　tumbledown　shack　on　Rivera　Street；　with　shoals　of　kids　sleeping　all　over　the　place；　they　knew　that　Clo…Clo　was　not　exactly　a　saint；　but　the　money　sure　came　in　handy。　They　didn't　inquire　too　closely　into　her　ings　and　goings。　They　had　a　euphemism　for　her　prolonged　and　nightly　absences；　among　themselves；　among　their　friends　and　neighbors；　if　anyone　inquired　for　her。　〃　Salio　para　dar　una　vuelta。〃　She　went　out　to　take　a　stroll。　Well；　she　had；　in　a　way。　One　of　these　little　strolls　of　hers　had　once　taken　her　clear　across　the　spine　of　the　continent；　as　far　as　Buenos　Aires。　But　she　had　e　back　two　days　later　perfectly　unharmed；　having　jumped　the　train　just　one　station　before　it　got　in　in　order　to　retain　her　free　dom　of　movement；　and　with　marvelous　tales　to　tell。
　　Her　fat；　slow…moving　mother　would　sigh　and　shrug　as　she　broomed　a　few　of　the　younger　kids　out　of　the　way。　She　was　a　good　daughter。　Here　in　the　home；　she　was　a　good　daughter。　Outside；　well；　that　was　outside。　After　all；　who　was　perfect　in　this　world？　Should　she；　a　mother；　throw　the　first　stone　at　her　own　child？　Besides；　it　was　only　for　now；　a　great　change　was　ing　someday。　Didn't　she；　Clo…Clo；　say　so　herself　over　and　over？　〃You　wait；　mamita；　when　I'm　thirty　I'm　going　to　stop　being　bad；　I'm　going　to　be　good　after　that。〃
　　And　now　here　she　was；　stuck　in　a　nine…o'clock　stop　with　a　nine…o'clock　patron；　and　it　was　rapidly　nearing　eleven。　And　one　of　the　sentimental　type；　the　worst　kind。　The　more　sentimental　they　got；　the　less　they　seemed　to　spend。　This　one；　perhaps　more　perspicacious　than　she　gave　him　credit　for　being　and　sensing　something　within　her　beneath　the　scabby　outer　shell；　wanted　her　to　e　back　to　the　ship　with　him；　wanted　to　marry　her　and　take　her　to　someplace　called　Copenhague　and　settle　down　with　her　there　on　a　dairy　farm　that　he　would　buy。
　　This　was　sheer　nonsense　as　far　as　Clo…Clo　was　concerned。　A　peso　slipped　into　one's　hand　at　leave…taking；　as　a　little　gesture　of　gratitude　for　one's　time　and　entertainment　efforts；　was　worth　a　dozen　offers　of　marriage　in　Copen；　whatever　it　was。
　　She　was　sitting　perched　there　on　one　of　the　tall　bar　stools　alongside　him；　hair　a　short…cropped　black　chrysanthemum　mop；　in　a　pert　bang　above　the　eyes。　Her　attitude　was　a　clever　synchronization　of　absorption　and　vacuity；　the　former　assumed；　the　latter　real。　She　was　sitting　sidewise；　with　her　face　toward　him；　the　point　of　her　elbow　to　the　bar　and　the　back　of　her　head　balanced　in　her　outspread　hand。　She　sidled　one　leg　unnoticeably　off　the　rung　of　the　stool；　felt　for　the　floor　with　it；　and　poised　it　toe　down；　having　decided　to　break　this　off　short　without　wasting　any　more　time　about　it。
　　〃And　you'd　like　it；　I　know　you　would。〃
　　〃Sure；〃　Clo…Clo　said　readily。　〃Where'd　you　say　it　was　again？〃
　　〃Copenhague。　I　told　you　three　times。〃
　　Clo…Clo　was　having　trouble　with　this。　She　knew　the　names　of　most　of　the　principal　countries；　Eng　land；　France；　Spain；　like　that。　You　picked　them　up　around　town。　It　was　either　a　country　she　had　never　heard　of；　or　it　was　an　utter　lie。　She　decided　it　was　an　utter　lie；　since　there　couldn't　be　many　more　countries　than　England；　France；　Spain。　It　was　time　to　get　going。　The　shows　would　be　out　soon。　Her　second　leg　shifted　down　and　lined　up　against　the　first。　There　was　only　one　more　thing　that　had　to　leave　the　chair　now。
　　He　noticed　finally　that　her　entire　figure　was　about　to　leave　him；　just　as　her　attention　already　had　some　time　before。　He　thought　it　was　because　his　hospitality　was　remiss。　He　looked　a　little　huit；　stopped　offering　her　his　heart　and　soul。　He　called　the　barman　over。　〃Another　for　the　lady。〃　He'd　already　told　her　he　didn't　like　to　see　her　drink。　He'd　already　started　in　trying　to　change　her　around。
　　〃No；　I've　got　to　go；〃　Clo…Clo　said。　She　was　off　the　stool　now；　and　he　couldn't　get　her　back。　Every　move　in　these　breakaways　had　to　be　carried　out　craftily　like　that；　to　acplish　them　successfully。　Now　if　he　reached　for　her　to　hold　her；　she'd　just　have　to　step　quickly　backwards。　〃I've　got　a　date。〃
　　〃But　this　is　one　now　you're　having　with　me。〃
　　〃Sure；　but　I've　already　had　it；　it's　over　now。　So　long。〃
　　〃But　I　want　you　to　marry　me。〃
　　〃Day　after　tomorrow。〃
　　She　was　two　stools　away　now。　The　barman　cut　in　sidewise　toward　her；　said　in　a　rebuking　undertone；　〃What's　your　hurry？　He's　buying　good　and　steady；　what　do　you　want　to　break　it　up　for？〃
　　〃Give　me　my　mission；〃　she　said　out　of　the　corner　of　her　mouth。　〃e　on；　or　I'll　tell　him　you　insulted　me。　And　you　know　what　that'll　mean；　the　mirror　behind　you；　all　the　glasses　on　the　shelves…〃
　　〃You　little　bandit；〃　he　said　bitterly。　Their　hands　touched　briefly　across　the　top　of　the　bar。
　　〃I　can　go　to　Robles'　just　as　well；　I　don't　have　to　e　in　here。　You're　not　losing　money　on　me。〃
　　Her　late　host　tried　to　reach　her　with　a　persua。　sive　sweep　of　his　arm。　She　knew　enough　to　stay　back　beyond　reach　of　it。　〃e　here　a　minute；　Clo…Clo。　Little　Clo…Clo；　don't　leave　me　like　this。　We　were　just　beginning　to　get　along　so　well。〃
　　〃I　know；　but　time's　up　now。〃
　　He　wavered　toward　the　entrance　after　her；　both　arms　out。　〃I　wanted　you　to　marry　me。　I　wanted　to　take　you　out　of　this。〃　He　seemed　undecided　for　a　minute　whether　to　cry　maudlinly　or　fly　into　a　rage。
　　She　got　out　over　the　threshold　backwards。　〃Keep　him　in　there；　Manuel。〃
　　Manuel　just　gave　her　a　dirty　look；　for　cutting　short　what　had　been　a　profitable　session。
　　Her　recent　escort　stood　there　in　the　lighted　entrance；　looking　out　after　her。　〃You're　a　fine　one；〃　he　called　resentfully。
　　〃You　better　go　back　to　your　ship；　mister；　and　get　some　sleep。　Marry　the　girl　in　the　next　port　you　e　to；　instead。　After　all；　we're　all　alike。〃
　　She　moved　on　down　the　narrow；　crooked；　poorly　lighted　street；　swinging　her　bag　jauntily　at　her　side；　a　long…legged　dryad　in　a　tight　black　satin　skirt。　She　glanced　back　once　and　he　was　leaning　up　against　the　side　of　the　door；　with　his　face　burrowed　into　the　right　angle　of　his　upthrust　arm；　crying　because　he'd　lost　her；　after　looking　for　her　half　around　the　world。　Probably　it　was　just　the　alcohol　alone。　How　could　you　tell　when　it　was　real　and　when　it　wasn't；　anyway；　this　love　stuff？
　　〃Maybe　I　should've　at　that；〃　she　dismissed　him　with　an　unconcerned　shrug。　〃Who　knows；　maybe　if　I　could　see　ahead；　I'd　be　sorry　that　I　didn't。〃
　　Around　the　very　next　corner　a　sudden　confrontation　occurred。　He　stopped　short；　came　back　to　her。　〃Oh；　it's　you；　is　it？〃
　　〃Have　we　met　before？〃　Clo…Clo　asked　with　polite　uncertainty。
　　〃Have　we　met　before！〃　he　scowled。　〃You　were　ing　back　in　five　minutes；　and