Beebo was tired. She had two drinks and then she meant to go home. But she was detained by a boy who ran an antique shop a block from her apartment, who was a friend. They talked about nothing in particular, just glad to talk with somebody for a while. Beebo was slightly surprised when Dutton came up and handed her one of his sheets of drawing paper. Beebo took it with a wry little grin. “I knew you’d get around to me sooner or later, Dutton,” she said. “I’m part of the décor in this joint. Let’s see.” She studied the caricature. “I hate to admit it, but it’s good. Does my chin stick out like that?” Dutton grinned. “Take it from me,” he said. Beebo eyed him. “You don’t think you’re going to get a buck out of me for this, do you?” she said, waving it under his nose. “I’ve got my buck, friend,” Dutton said, holding a folded bill up between his thumb and index finger. He smiled and pushed the sketch back at her. “It’s yours,” he said. “Keep it.” Beebo studied him a moment, frowning, and then she looked up and down the bar. “If you don’t like it,” Laura said softly in her ear, “just tear it up. I can’t complain.” Beebo turned on the bar stool to find Laura standing close behind her. They gazed at each other in silence for a moment. Then Beebo tore the sketch once across the long way and once the short, still watching Laura. And dropped the pieces on the floor. Laura looked at her, trembling. Beebo turned back to the bar and finished her drink at one swallow. Then she said to the boy beside her, “See you, Daisy.” And she got up and left the bar. For a moment, Laura thought she would die where she stood. And then she followed Beebo, walking twenty feet behind her, her heart working hard and making her gasp a little. Beebo walked out into the night, and Laura followed her, coming just a little closer, until she was about five feet behind her. Beebo walked on, slowly, without glancing back, without hurrying her pace. They walked for two full blocks like this, and across the street into a third. And then Beebo stopped. Startled and scared, Laura stopped where she was, on the curb, with the street light illuminating her silver blonde hair and leaving her face in the shadow. Slowly Beebo turned around. She looked at Laura. She dropped the cigarette in her hand and crushed it under her heel. For some moments they just stood there and gazed at each other. A man walked by, and then a couple. Then the street was empty. Finally Laura said, in a whisper that carried clearly to Beebo’s heart, “I love you, Beebo. Darling, I love you.” Beebo walked over to her, still moving very slowly, until they stood together in the pool of light just inches from each other. The dawn of a smile showed on her face.