fessor—did not join in the brutal derision which greeted every mention of "the others." He told Ken to be happy in his youth. "Go," he said, "drink. I do not, only because of my shrivelling kidneys."
And Ken drank. Soon he sparkled, became the center of all attention as he sang, danced and laughed his way through the night. When the raw liquor strangled the laugh in his throat, he suddenly realized that he had been indifferent to the attentions of two of the millionaires, one a narrow-faced, bald-headed ship's cook, with blue-veined nose and thin-lipped mouth; the other a dignified white-haired, round-cheeked admiral.
The ship's cook threw a silver ash tray at the admiral. He missed a direct hit. A giant ("He's surely a eunuch," whooped Frankie) locked the cook in the brig, "until," said the admiral, "he sobers up."
Ken liked the admiral. He decided to dance for him. He stripped off his costume and improvised until the room whirled madly.
When he awoke, in the admiral's cabin, he found a thousand dollar bill in his shoe.
Ken streaked through the cities of the east in the parabolic path of a meteor, his devoted court attending him. At the end of each performance new admirers appeared, waiting patiently until he emerged from the theatre. Men, always men. Women seemed to know. From men he received perfumed notes, invitations to dinners, parties, week-ends. Gifts, he realized, might result in an unwelcome obligation; he returned them to their senders. He was not always able to avoid the curiosity of those who wanted to meet him. Their soft voices called as he walked to his
