WILL AND WAY
393
"Aw, I'm sorry." Kiss. "Let's forget about it. Come on, let's
watch some TV and get to bed, huh?"
Throughout the night, Miss Flatface could not rid herself of
the suspicion that Mr. Obscenity and Inspector Jug, at separate
windows, were watching her and Arthur making love. She longed
to
get up and look. But she hated to alarm Arthur. She doubted–
since he was groggy with beer-if his potency could have survived
such an interruption.
At dawn, with Arthur curled up on one side of the bed, Miss
FIatface made her way outdoors.
It
was as she'd suspected. Her two
pursuers were nonchalandy sitting on the curb, near the bus stop.
"I thought you two hated each other," she said irritably.
"We've made up," said Inspector Jug. "Joined forces."
"Pay no attention to him," said the familiar imperious voice
of Mr. Obscenity, tinged with silver mockery. "You know your
place, my dear. And it's not at the side of that-boy." He spat the
word out with something less than contempt. "Was it for this childish
purple, red, and green Arthur that I rescued you from Jim, taught
you all you know? Good God, woman, do you realize how much
older you are than he? Does
he
realize it?"
"We've never talked about it," said Miss Flatface tearfully.
"He loves me."
"But does he
know
you?" persisted Mr. Obscenity. "Does he
know you? As I do."
"Mr. Obscenity-sir," interjected the ever apologetic Inspector
Jug.
"Quiet, you moron!"
"But shouldn't we tell her the dope I've got on him? I got this
whole dossier."
"What dossier?" she cried.
"Well, Laura," began Inspector Jug in a confidential tone, "yer
Arthur wasn't always a sailor. Before that he was a-"
"You idiot!" screamed Mr. Obscenity, losing altogether, for
the first time in Miss Flatface's knowledge, his splendid self-control.
"Don't you see that's no way to get her back!"
"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Miss Flatface, growing stronger
in
the face of Mr. Obscenity's disarray. "You can't spoil Arthur for
me. I need him. And I won't give him up."
