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…〃
But Terry freed herself with a final jerk and whipped around the
counter。 The two； who had been talking together in an undertone； turned
to welcome her。 〃We've got a half…hour。 Come on。 It's just over to
Clark and up a block or so。〃
The University Inn； that gloriously intercollegiate institution which
welcomes any graduate of any school of experience； was situated in the
basement； down a flight of stairs。 Into the unwonted quiet that reigns
during the hour of low potentiality； between five and six； the three went；
and seated themselves at a table in an obscure corner。 A waiter brought
them things in little glasses； though no order had been given。 The
woman who had been Ruby Watson was so silent as to be almost wordless。
But the man talked rapidly。 He talked well； too。 The same quality that
enabled him； voiceless though he was； to boost a song to success was
making his plea sound plausible in Terry's ears now。
〃I've got to go and make up in a few minutes。 So get this。 I'm not
going to stick down in this basement eating house forever。 I've got too
much talent。 If I only had a voiceI mean a singing voice。 But I haven't。
But then； neither had Georgie Cohan； and I can't see that it wrecked his
life any。 Now listen。 I've got a song。 It's my own。 That bit you played
for me up at Gottschalk's is part of the chorus。 But it's the words that'll
go big。 They're great。 It's an aviation song； see？ Airplane stuff。
They're yelling that it's the airyoplanes that're going to win this war。 Well；
I'll help 'em。 This song is going to put the aviator where he belongs。
It's going to be the big song of the war。 It's going to make ‘Tipperary'
sound like a Moody and Sankey hymn。 It's the〃
Ruby lifted her heavy…lidded eyes and sent him a meaning look。 〃Get
down to business； Leon。 I'll tell her how good you are while you're
making up。〃
He shot her a malignant glance； but took her advice。 〃Now what I've
been looking for for years is somebody who has got the music knack to
give me the accompaniment just a quarter of a jump ahead of my voice；
see？ I can follow like a lamb； but I've got to have that feeler first。 It's
more than a knack。 It's a gift。 And you've got it。 I know it when I see
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it。 I want to get away from this night…club thing。 There's nothing in it
for a man of my talent。 I'm gunning for bigger game。 But they won't
sign me without a tryout。 And when they hear my voice they Well； if
me and you work together we can fool 'em。 The song's great。 And my
make…up's one of these aviation costumes to go with the song； see？ Pants
tight in the knee and baggy on the hips。 And a coat with one of those
full…skirt whaddyoucall… 'ems〃
〃Peplums；〃 put in Ruby； placidly。
〃Sure。 And the girls'll be wild about it。 And the words！〃 He
began to sing； gratingly off key：
Put on your sky clothes； Put on your fly clothes； And
take a trip with me。 We'll sail so high Up in the sky
We'll drop a bomb from Mercury。
〃Why； that's awfully cute！〃 exclaimed Terry。 Until now her opinion
of Mr。 Sammett's talents had not been on a level with his。
〃Yeah； but wait till you hear the second verse。 That's only part of the
chorus。 You see； he's supposed to be talking to a French girl。 He says：
‘I'll parlez…vous in Francais plain You'll answer； 〃Cher
Americain；〃 We'll both 。 。 。'〃
The six…o'clock lights blazed up suddenly。 A sad…looking group of
men trailed in and made for a corner where certain bulky； shapeless
bundles were soon revealed as those glittering and tortuous instruments
which go to make a jazz band。
〃You better go； Lee。 The crowd comes in awful early now； with all
these buyers in town。〃
Both hands on the table； he half rose； reluctantly； still talking。 〃I've
got three other songs。 They make Gottschalk's stuff look sick。 All I
want's a chance。 What I want you to do is accompaniment。 On the
stage； see？ Grand piano。 And a swell set。 I haven't quite made up my
mind to it。 But a kind of an army camp room； see？ And maybe you
dressed as Liberty。 Anyway； it'll be new； and a knockout。 If only we
can get away with the voice thing。 Say； if Eddie Foy； all those years
never had a〃
The band opened with a terrifying clash of cymbal and thump of drum。
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〃Back at the end of my first turn；〃 he said as he Red。 Terry followed his
lithe； electric figure。 She turned to meet the heavy…lidded gaze of the
woman seated opposite。 She relaxed； then； and sat back with a little sigh。
〃Well！ If he talks that way to the managers I don't see〃
Ruby laughed a mirthless little laugh。 〃Talk doesn't get it over with
the managers； honey。 You've got to deliver。〃
〃Well； but he'sthat song is a good one。 I don't say it's as good as he
thinks it is； but it's good。〃
〃Yes；〃 admitted the woman； grudgingly； 〃it's good。〃
〃Well； then？〃
The woman beckoned a waiter； he nodded and vanished； and
reappeared with a glass that was twin to the one she had just emptied。
〃Does he look like he knew French？ Or could make a rhyme？〃
〃But didn't he？ Doesn't he？〃
〃The words were written by a little French girl who used to skate
down here last winter； when the craze was on。 She was stuck on a
Chicago kid who went over to fly for the French。〃
〃But the music？〃
〃There was a Russian girl who used to dance in the cabaret and she
〃
Terry's head came up with a characteristic little jerk。 〃I don't believe
it！〃
〃Better。〃 She gazed at Terry with the drowsy look that was so
different from the quick； clear glance of the Ruby Watson who used to
dance so nimbly in the old Bijou days。 〃What'd you and your husband
quarrel about； Terry？〃
Terry was furious to feel herself flushing。 〃Oh； nothing。 He justI…
…it was Say； how did you know we'd quarreled？〃
And suddenly all the fat woman's apathy dropped from her like a
garment and some of the old sparkle and animation illumined her heavy
face。 She pushed her glass aside and leaned forward on her folded arms；
so that her face was close to Terry's。
〃Terry Sheehan； I know you've quarreled； and I know just what it was
about。 Oh； I don't mean the very thing it was about； but the kind of thing。
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I'm going to do something for you； Terry； that I wouldn't take the trouble
to do for most women。 But I guess I ain't had all the softness knocked
out of me yet； though it's a wonder。 And I guess I remember too plain the
decent kid you was in the old days。 What was the name of that little
small…time house me and Jim used to play？ Bijou； that's it； Bijou。〃
The band struck up a new tune。 Leon Sammettslim； sleek； lithe in
his evening clothesappeared with a little fair girl in pink chiffon。 The
woman reached across the table and put one pudgy； jeweled hand on
Terry's arm。 〃He'll be through in ten minutes。 Now listen to me。 I left
Jim four years ago； and there hasn't been a minute since then； day or night；
when I wouldn't have crawled back to him