AN EXPENSE OF SPIRIT
with the sudden silence as he bent, ineptly, to kiss her, an ill-assured
gesture of possession before which, a little, she seemed to flinch. I
could not be sure, for seeing me she turned what reflex of repulsion
she had betrayed into a mock gesture of horror. "Strong drink!" she
said, rolling the r's melodramatically. "You smell like a brewery!"
and to me, "Why, it's Mr. Brandler. Come in." People do not usually
remember my name, and so
I
entered with a small glow of satisfac–
tion.
I
am accustomed to watch people closely, for in the shoe business
and in writing alike, accurate psychological discrimination is indis–
pensable, and so
I
did not
miss
the automatic movement of Mrs.
johnson's hand to her forehead; just above and beside the left eye,
powdered carefully but visible in the fall of light, there was a bruise.
"Would either or both of you like something to eat?" she asked.
"No!" Noel bellowed, glaring down the declaration of hunger
that trembled on my lips.
We sat in silence for a moment and then, "Talk!" he said, look–
ing from me to his wife.
"Talk)
why don't you. I've brought you a
real live nickel-plated broken-down intellectual. Do your stuff!"
I
looked in misery at the floor, incapable of speech, not even
daring again to turn my eyes toward Mrs. Johnson.
I
will not tell
you what fantastic declarations and gestures proposed themselves to
me in the succeeding moments of terrible silence.
Noel was walking up and down the room with a jarring stride
that kept the bric-a-brac trembling."Talk, goddamn it-and don't
tell me
I
don't give my wife everything her little heart desires.
A
real live intellectual, pickled in six beers, and
I
brought him back
singlehanded. Go ahead-talk about
literature.»
He began to laugh,
pounding his chest. "Maybe
I
embarrass you?"
"Noel," she began, without,
I
am sure, anything to say really
in
mind, just to be speaking, but just then a baby began to cry
somewhere in the house. "Noel-the baby-"
"He did not ,appear to hear her. "Talk," he cried, "why don't
you
talk!"
She tried again. "Noel-the baby-"
"Well, take care of it, damn you. I'm going out." He grabbed
our coats from the chair where he had dropped them and was at the
door.
"Good night, dear," she called, near tears I was sure, though
21
