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BUTTERFLY MAN
227

really was, whether all the preliminary fencing had not been the false parrying of friends who do not wish to harm each other. Of course, the passion was gone out of romance. That was it. What he really wanted was freedom to act as he pleased. He no longer cared whether he harmed Howard. Nor himself.

"I shan't be here much," Howard explained, "and you can sleep all day. And there's no one like Rutgers."

Ken did not answer. Howard was sitting on the piano bench. Ken found a chewing gum capsule in his pocket and slipped it into his mouth.

"It looks so American seeing you chew," Howard said, "after all those months on the other side. You really should go to England. It would lift you immeasurably."

"I wish I could go away," Ken aimlessly suggested. "An automobile trip, perhaps. No destination. Just a trip."

"Take Rutgers," Howard said. "He'll chauffeur you. And be your nursemaid."

Ken's old gay smile flashed briefly.

"Where's the Mercedes?" Howard asked.

"I stored it when I passed through here on my way from Boston to Atlantic City last fall."

"I'll have Rutgers get it in shape. Take him with you and come back when you please. Or at least in time for the new show. I'll have your room ready for you then and you'll once more be in a mood for fun. What do you say?"

"The idea is marvelous. Just what I need. But I'd rather go alone. A chauffeur isn't necessary. In fact, I get a thrill out of driving. And I don't want to live here in the Barrington."

"I suppose you don't care for the mood of my lovely