Free The Demon by The Demon Page B

a little breathless by the time he found a strap to hang on in the train, but was not too disturbed about being late even though it was just a short time ago that he had to endure a torturous reprimand. After all, after Friday night there should not be any hassle with Wentworth. If he asks me why Im late, I/ll just tell him I was with a broad and did not notice the time. But so he would not add insult to injury, Harry decided to forgo his coffee and cheese danish.
      He got to the office a few minutes before ten, and for some reason the fact that he was less than an hour late was sig-nificent to him. He could see that Mr. Wentworth was already in his office, but that did not create any uneasiness. He sat at his desk and opened the file of the proposal he was currently involved in. After ten minutes, or so, Mr. Wentworth buzzed him, and he picked up the phone. Yes sir?
      White, theres a time for play and a time for work, and the successful man never gets the two confused.
      Click! End of message. It took Harry a few seconds to react to the silence, the stern voice and click still seeming to reverberate somewhere in his head. Especially that click. It seemed to have such a finality to it. Absolute. He hung up the phone and became aware of the hollowing churning in his gut. Jesus,
    (56)
     
    not again. This is crazy. Feeling good, feeling bad. Feeling good, feeling bad. Somethings goofy here.. . .
    O well,
    screw it. Its not all that important. I/ll just get to work and pretty soon this whole thing—whatever in the hell it is—will be gone. He buried his head in his work.
      He kept his head there for the remainder of the week, making a fifty-minute hour out of his lunch hour. But then the emergency and urgency disappeared, and he soon started eating a quick lunch and spending the rest of the time walking along Fifth Avenue and through the stores.
      From time to time, quite frequently as a matter of fact, he thought of Mary and the time in the Hotel Splendide. He was not so much interested in her—she was obviously trouble, and he studiously avoided the lake in the park—but those weeks certainly did give him something to do with his time. But he remembered, too, what happened later that afternoon, and did not want to go through that torture again. Not for anything.
      So Harry would stroll aimlessly along the avenue and through the stores, always going in a direction away from the park.
    (57)
     
    3
                            One day Harry was looking around the mens department of a store, when a woman suddenly turned around and knocked into him, dropping her pocketbook, which opened, the contents spilling out. O, excuse me, Im sorry.
    No, it was my fault, I shouldnt have turned so suddenly.
      Here, let me help you, helping her pick up the contents of her pocketbook and noticing the sheen of her stockings as she knelt beside him.
      Thank you, putting the last of them in and closing the pocketbook, Im really sorry.
    No harm done, smiling.
      I saw a sign that said sale, chuckling apologetically, and I guess I just started to charge like a bull in a china shop.
      If bulls ever looked like you, I/d be a matador. She smiled in acknowledgment of the compliment and started to relax. Where is that sign you saw?
    (58)
     
    Over there, in the tie department.
    O . . . yeah. Looking for something for your husband?
    No, smiling, my father. Its his birthday.
      Then why dont you let me help you? Im an expert on ties and fathers.
    Really? smiling.
      Absolutely. I have both. They both chuckled and went over to the counter and started looking. Now, I assume you want silk.
      Gee, I dont know. Im such a ninny when it comes to things like ties.
      Well, fear not, your problems are over. Now, what color hair does he have?
      Well, squinting and twisting her mouth, its sort of dark with a little gray. Mostly on the side. Sort of distinguished you know.
      Of course, your father would have to be,