The Devil's Cook Read Free

economics, you must be dignified and stuffy. And if you are the wife of an assistant professor of economics, you are expected to be dignified and stuffy also.”
    â€œThat’s not reasonable,” Ben protested. “How can a sexy wife be dignified and stuffy?”
    â€œIt’s very difficult,” said Terry. “If not impossible.”
    â€œIt’s worse than that—it isn’t even healthy . As between dignity and sex, I’ll take sex every time.”
    â€œHas a tone of discontent crept into this conversation,” Farley said, “or do I imagine it?”
    â€œIt is no secret,” Terry said, “that Jay and I are not on the most amiable of terms. He disapproves of almost everything I do.”
    â€œIs that a fact?” Ben said. “I can’t imagine why.”
    â€œAre you being sarcastic?”
    â€œYes, Ben,” said Farley, “you mustn’t be sarcastic. It’s hardly appropriate for a fellow who is going on a top-secret weekend. As for me, Terry, I am on your side in the matter. If old Jay walks out on you, I’m prepared to console you.”
    â€œIf so,” said Terry, “you will have to wait your turn.”
    Ben looked at his wristwatch, drained his can, and managed to stand up.
    â€œI’m beginning to feel like a crowd,” he said. “Fortunately, it’s time for me to leave.”
    He carried the empty can into the kitchen, came out again, and went into the bedroom. When he reappeared he was wearing a hat and topcoat and carrying a leather bag.
    â€œI’m off!” he said. “See you Sunday evening.”
    â€œI’m convinced that you have no intentions whatever of being good,” said Farley, “so just be careful.”
    â€œRight. Old Ben Green proceeds with caution.”
    He went out. Terry shook her beer can, which was empty, and rose after depositing the can on the floor.
    â€œI suppose I should leave, too,” she said.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI told you I have an appointment. And I have to fix the ragout before I go.”
    â€œYou could stay for a little while, couldn’t you?”
    â€œIt wouldn’t look right.”
    â€œDamn the looks. Have another beer.”
    â€œSince you ask me, I will.”
    She sat down again while Farley went to the kitchen and returned with two fresh cans. He handed one to Terry and sat down beside her on the sofa.
    â€œâ€˜Shoulder the sky,’” he said, “‘and drink your ale.’”
    â€œIs that original? Didn’t someone else say it first?”
    â€œDoesn’t someone always?”
    â€œAnyway, it isn’t ale we’re drinking. It’s beer.”
    â€œA mere technicality,” Farley said.

2
    Soon after five o’clock Fanny Moran, Farley Moran’s little sister upstairs, returned to The Cornish Arms. She did not, however, climb directly to her second-floor apartment. She spoke cheerfully to Orville Reasnor, who was on his hands and knees in the vestibule near the entrance, and paused briefly to check her mailbox, which was empty. While she was thus engaged, Orville exploited the opportunity to survey her with considerable admiration from end to end, and he concluded as usual that she was a neat little package. It was a short excursion, actually, from end to end of Fanny, for she stood only one inch over five feet, although a natural tendency of the observer to linger on the way usually prolonged the trip. Orville, who was a trained observer, took his time going from strawberry blonde hair, cut short and slightly shaggy, to a small pair of nyloned feet raised for added height on high heels.
    â€œYou ain’t got any mail,” Orville said.
    â€œSo I see,” Fanny said. “Thank you for looking for me, Orville.”
    â€œI didn’t look. You’ll never catch Orville Reasnor prying into tenants’ affairs. I was working in the hall when the postman came,