and, taking a length of elastic from a department store bag, measured, cut, and sewed it with a few stitches. "You certainly look wonderful," she said, biting the thread.
"Mae made this outfit." Vida took off her coat and showed the fawn wool dress.
"Mother is wonderful, isn't she? I always wanted her to go into dress designing but she didn't want to."
"I told her I'd write the minute I saw you. She's worried about you. She says she can't make out from your letters whether you want her to come."
"Oh no," Lucy said evasively, "this climate doesn't agree with her. And then too," she added nervously, "show business is uncertain these days. I never thought I needed an agent. Now I've a good one, Bob Noonan. Of course he's a bother sometimes. So I sit on his lap and go to dinner with him and kid him along and so far everything is all right because he thinks he's going to make money on me."
Her laugh was cheerless as she took the tray from the waiter and set it on the bed.
"I guess I could clear away those books and that ashtray and put your tray there."
"Don't bother."
"I've been doing a lot of reading," she said abruptly, "but I don't care much about the latest novels. Men have a funny way of writing about women. I could tell them a thing or two. And about themselves. I've been thinking maybe I'd try and write. I suppose you did a lot this summer?"
"No," Vida said defensively, stricken by the hiatus of the past unproductive months. "I had to work and keep house so I was too tired. But now that I'm settled I expect to start."
And I must remember, she thought, to make a note of how it is easier for acquaintanceship than friendship to pick up at the same point after an absence. Our severance period has erected a block in the old easy interflow stream of our close relationship. This painful hour of reunion is in the nature of the aftermath of a major operation, like the dividing of Siamese twins. Somewhere along the line, Lucy has gone off into an unfamiliar realm.
"This coffee is cold, and this room a sight. I'll get dressed and we'll go out to lunch somewhere," Lucy said.
"I haven't told you," Vida began, and told about Figente and
