"Have another drink?"
"One more … huh …" He smiled his affectionate smile. '1 feel wonderful … I like this place."
"I don't want you to get sick."
"I won't … I hope I can make it back to the hotel."
"I'll see that you do."
"Okay, Paul …"
People began to clap and shout … Everyone was having a good time. Gaylord began wondering if there was really anything wrong with him at all. Maybe it was his imagination. Everyone here was all right … They didn't seem to have a care in the world. He was just like any other man … He wasn't or they weren't any different … People were people but each had his own individual desires.
"May I have another one of those long cigarettes, Paul?" Gaylord asked after Freddie had placed another drink in front of him. After he had paid the pale boy; after the boy had patted his warm cheek and said … "Thanks doll."
"Another cigarette? Sure …" Paul lit one and handed it across the table. "I hope you're having a good time."
"I'm having a wonderful time … I love this place … I feel so good and free …"
"It's only a dump, but I have fun here … I'm glad you like it."
"I've never been to a place like this … Everybody does just what they please, don't they."
"They try to."
Gaylord grinned … "They're doing a good job of it, aren't they."
He was sipping his drink when he noticed the singer standing in back of Paul. She was blue-eyed, like him. Her lips were full and the dress that clung to her excellent figure revealed pointed, large breasts. She threw her handkerchief with a gesture of friendliness and greeted them in a low, rather husky voice. "Hello, you two." She placed a hand on Paul's shoulder.
"Hi, Dusty," Paul said. "It's about time you came over and spoke to us. Dusty, this is Gay … Gay, Dusty."
Gaylord arose from his chair.
