“No!” She tried to collect her thoughts, to right her time sense, while Jack fetched the drinks. When he came back she said, “How many drinks have I had?” “Jesus, Mother, what a thing to ask a man. I can’t even keep track of my own.” “I’m lost,” she said. “I’ve lost count.” * * * * * “Shall we take off, Mother mine?” Jack said, very carefully. Laura tried to clear her head by shaking it and pressing her eyes shut. “I guess we’d better,” she said. “I guess we _have_ to. It’s four o’clock. They’re closing.” “Four!” Laura came half awake at this. “Four o’clock,” he repeated elaborately. “Oh, God. Oh, my head.” “Never mind, Mother, you can stay with me tonight. I’ll try to keep my hands off you.” He laughed to himself. Laura saw Jack looking up at somebody with a grin and heard him say, “Hi, doll. I want you to meet my mother. Mother, look alive.” He squinted at her doubtfully. “If possible,” he added. Laura looked up and saw a startlingly handsome face gazing down at her: black hair, pure blue eyes, a slight smile that widened a little when Laura turned her face up. “Hello,” Beebo said. “Laura.” Her smile gave emphasis to the way she said Laura’s name. Laura put her hands to her head dizzily. “You look just like Beth,” she murmured. At which Beebo grinned, turning to Jack. “Three aspirins and some warm tomato juice,” she said. “First thing when she gets up. She’ll live.” Laura watched her, fascinated, half smiling. Beebo turned back to her and returned the smile. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a dime. She flipped it in the air and then dropped it insolently in front of Laura. “Here’s a dime, sweetheart,” she said. “Call me sometime.” And with a little grin at Jack, she turned and left them. Laura stuck her chin out indignantly. She was not too drunk to be insulted. “Well, thanks a bunch, your majesty!” she said sarcastically to Beebo’s back. She could hear Beebo laughing but she wouldn’t turn around. She was already headed for the door. Laura let Jack drag her to his apartment, three blocks away. He took her up a few stone steps into a long dim hall, and opened the first door on the left. He steered her to his bed and pushed her till she collapsed backwards on it. She fell asleep at once. Jack pulled her shoes off and her skirt, with total unconcern for her femininity, and got her under the covers. Laura slept like a stone, a deep almost motionless sleep that could have lasted far into the next day. But Jack got her up at seven-thirty. She had three and a half hours sleep, on virtually no dinner and eight or ten stiff drinks. She felt strange new pains all over. Jack was used to such excesses, though he tried to ration himself to one or two a week. He took it pretty well in stride, but Laura felt awful. Her first words when Jack shook her were, “Oh, God! What time is it?” “Seven-thirty.”