Театр

           Tryingtorememberanyplaysinwhichtherewasafirst-ratepartforawomanoffive-and-fortyshefellasleep.ShesleptsoundlytillEviecametoawakeherbecausethemasseusewasthere.Eviebroughthertheeveningpaper,andJulia,stripped,whilethemasseuserubbedherlongslimlegsandherbelly,puttingonherspectacles,readthesametheatricalintelligenceshehadreadthatmorning,thegossipcolumnandthewoman’spage.PresentlyMichaelcameinandsatonherbed.Heoftencameatthathourtohavealittlechatwithher.

           "Well,whatwashisname?"askedJulia.

           "Whosename?"

           "Theboywhocametolunch?"

           "Ihaven’tanotion.Idrovehimbacktothetheatre.Inevergavehimanotherthought."

           MissPhillips,themasseuse,likedMichael.Youknewwhereyouwerewithhim.Healwayssaidthesamethingsandyouknewexactlywhattoanswer.Nosidetohim.Andterriblygood-looking.Myword.

           "Well,MissPhillips,fatcomingoffnicely?"

           "Oh,Mr.Gosselyn,there’snotanounceoffatonMissLambert.Ithinkit’swonderfulthewayshekeepsherfigure."

           "PityIcan’thaveyoutomassageme,MissPhillips.Youmightbeabletodosomethingaboutmine."

           "Howyoutalk,Mr.Gosselyn.Why,you’vegotthefigureofaboyoftwenty.Idont’knowhowyoudoit,uponmywordIdon’t."

           "Plainlivingandhighthinking,MissPhillips."

           JuliawaspayingnoattentiontowhattheysaidbutMissPhillips’sreplyreachedher.

           "Ofcoursethere’snothinglikemassage,Ialwayssaythat,butyou’vegottobecarefulofyourdiet.