The Four Johns Read Free Page B

idea.”
    â€œProbably John Boce,” Harriet suggested. “He’s always been fascinated by Mary.”
    But Susie was not to be goaded into an indiscreet revelation. “Nothing’s impossible.”
    â€œâ€˜She seemed very excited and, well, full of mischief. You know how Mary is. Only more so. And ,” Harriet added in a confidential voice, “she did not deny that she might be getting married!”
    â€œShe probably didn’t deny that she was joining the Foreign Legion, either.”
    â€œNow, Susie. After all, when a girl like—”
    â€œExcuse me, Harriet, I’ve got a customer. Some other time?” She hung up.
    Harriet rose angrily from the couch. She should have known that the little snip would tell her nothing. She poured herself a fresh cup of tea, took it out on the balcony and stood looking down into the court, wondering what the future held.
    The door to Apartment 11 opened. Mrs. Kelly, a stout, arthritic woman of over seventy, stumped out on the balcony. She pulled her door shut, glanced sidewise at Harriet, tested the lock, started for the steps. She had a bland, unwrinkled face and curly white hair, which she wore in puffs over each ear, like a pair of enormous popcorn balls. She always walked past Apartment 10 hurriedly, but with Harriet leaning on the balcony rail she had no choice but to pause.
    â€œGood evening, Mrs. Kelly,” said Harriet politely. “Let me get you a nice cup of tea.”
    â€œThank you, no,” said Mrs. Kelly. “I’m already late for my committee meeting.” Mrs. Kelly spent a great deal of time in the basement of the nearby” church, organizing rummage sales, church suppers, newspaper drives and the like.
    â€œYou should get yourself a nice little two-door like mine,” said Harriet. “Then you wouldn’t need to hurry so.”
    â€œI wouldn’t know how to behave in traffic with all these freeways.” Mrs. Kelly looked past Harriet, shook her head. “Oh, dear, those steps. Every day they’re steeper. If I don’t get an apartment on the ground floor soon, I’ll have to move.”
    â€œOh, no !” cried Harriet. “Up here we have such a lovely view over the court!” But Mrs. Kelly had already continued on her way.
    Harriet watched the stout figure jerk down the steps; then, with a fling of the head, she took her teacup and went back inside.
    It was time she got ready for her own date. Her plans were made: she knew exactly what she was going to wear, and she had bought an ounce of expensive perfume. Latchouf , read the label on the bottle. How much like a sneeze! But it probably meant something exciting in French or Egyptian. She wished she knew for sure. Then, if tribute were paid to the provocative odeur … Tonight she would be pure woman. Charm was more than a matter of youth, just as youth was not necessarily a matter of years. What a miraculous business, this thing called sex! Intensely interesting. Harriet knew all about it; she had read everything from Krafft-Ebing to Sex and the Single Girl , and need take a back seat to no one. Especially a self-centered little provincial like Mary.
    And Harriet went off to prepare herself for the evening.

CHAPTER 2
    On the morning of Saturday, June fifteenth, Harriet used Mrs. Kelly’s accident as an excuse to call on Susie. She tried the door numbered 12 to no avail; she was forced to press the buzzer.
    A minute or so passed; then Susie, in an old white terrycloth bathrobe, opened the door. “Slugabed!” sang Harriet gaily. “Eleven o’clock and still asleep?” She stepped forward; Susie grudgingly gave way.
    Harriet stood in the middle of the room, looked brightly in all directions. “Did Mary get off all right?”
    Susie slumped onto the couch. She looked surly and sleepy and anxious to be alone. “I suppose so. I didn’t get home till late.”
    â€œPoor