New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Television game show hosts -- Fiction
"I thought not. You're so damned pretty and so damned sweet-tempered
you've never had to fight for anything. Life's handed you everything in
your lap."
"I haven't had everything."
"Only because you haven't wanted everything. Sweet God, why don't you
find out what it's all about before you pass sentence on slobs like
me who've had to fight every inch of the way." Lennox pounded a fist
into his palm. "You're blind. You've had it too easy. A writer-type
guy once made up a circle. Life is Character, he said. Character is
Conflict. Conflict is Life. That's the vicious circle we're all trapped
in. You too."
"No! I won't be trapped in the dirt."
"Yes, you too! And it isn't dirt. You're like the prudes who think sex
is dirty. What the hell are you afraid of? Try a fight. Maybe you'll
get to like it. Maybe you'll get to grow up a little and come out of
your dream world."
"You're impossible!" she cried. "You're hateful!"
"You make a big pitch for peace," he growled, his face darkening. "You
talk it up about feeling filthy because the dogs are fighting; but
that's just cover-up, girl. That isn't the truth of what's in you."
"No?" Gabby answered steadily. "What is?"
"Jealousy. Envy."
"Of what?"
"What every man has and no woman has. You love to castrate us. That's
the one burning drive in you with your career and women's rights and
politics. You can't forgive us for that. You try to cut every man down
to your size, your sex, your weakness. I don't know what you did to
Audibon with your knife, but you're not doing it to me!"
She turned white. "You're horrible," she whispered. "You're worse than
Roy. Worse! I don't want to see you again ... ever! Go away. Don't come
back ... ever!"
"So you can go back to Audibon?"
"Is that what you think I'll do?"
"What else can I think if you won't fight and won't let me fight? How
else am I supposed to take this?"
She leaped up, ran to the front door and opened it. She held it open,
her dark eyes flashing furiously at Lennox. He picked up his burberry
and went to the door. There he hesitated.
"Listen," he began. "We can't do this. We've got to help each oth--"
"Go away!" she cried. "Go away and fight. Find your Aimee Driscoll and
beat her up again. Or would you rather stay and beat me? That would
make you feel manly, wouldn't it? Then I could go to Aimee and show her
my bruises. Would you enjoy that ... you big, virile beast?"
"Go to hell, you God damned bitch!" he shouted and blundered out into
the hall. Gabby slammed the door and locked it. She began to sob and
gag painfully. She ran to the bathroom and was violently ill. One
thought persisted through the sobbing and the sickness, Lennox had
destroyed everything and finished with her ruin.
CHAPTER XII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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