I wanted leave me office. It's up stairs in the Royce building. The place is crowded with women and tobacco smoke. I took the stairs everyday. They wound up the inside the building like a corkscrew through a bottle of bad wine.

I saw her coming like an unlucky bet at the Kentucky derby. She had furs, a wide hat, and shoes the color of communion wine. She wore sadness on her face like eyes on a Picasso. I poured her a drink. She looked like she could use it.