35
WHOM COULD HE ENTRUST THE ENVELOPE TO? JOYCE, after all, was still his wife. They had taken vows together.
“Well,” she said expansively, “I hear that you and Polly Morgan –”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Perhaps not. But I’m so glad to know that you can obviously get it up again.”
“Again and again. We tend to overdo it, rather.”
“Don’t you think she’s a bit young for you?”
Mortimer jumped up to look out of the window. No Rover. No black-suited men. Relieved, he whacked the window open. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, staring at the matted tangle under her armpits and wondering if it would ever stop growing. “Incidentally,” he continued merrily, “if you should want a divorce –”
“Divorce? What ever for?”
“Well, I’d hate to stand between you and old Ziggy, you know.”
“Ziggy,” she said snidely, “would never marry me.”
“Ah ha.”
“He respects me too much. He wouldn’t contaminate our relationship by having me become a possession, a chattel. He wants me to remain free to love him.”
“How very, very nice for you. May I see Dougie now?”
“He’s already asleep.”
“Well, then,” he said, rising.
“Wait. My congratulations, darling.”
“What ever for?”
“Your life’s dream come true. I understand you’re going to take over Oriole.”
“You understand wrong. As usual. I’ve resigned.”
“You’ve what?”
“That ought to please Hy Rosen, don’t you think?”
“What a dreadful thing to say. Hy’s your best friend.”
“My best friend? Wake up. He doesn’t even talk to me any more.”
“If he feels hurt I’m afraid he’s got good reason.”
“You mean I’m an anti-Semite?”
“Mortimer, how could you have written that article on Chagall for Jewish Thought?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Did you have to call it ‘A Jewish Answer to Picasso’? Hy’s indignant. He thinks that was so cheap of you. He –”
“I’ll kill that Shalinsky. I’ll murder him.”
“Mortimer, wait.”
But it was no use. He was off. He was lucky enough to trap a taxi immediately. Another car pulled out after him, right after him, but it wasn’t a Rover. There were no black-suited men inside. I’m jumpy, that’s all.