Free Don't Stop the Carnival by Herman Wouk

Norm. I'll clean up and we'll have a snooze, yes? And another swim."
     
     
A little while later she came, stretched on her back on the blanket in the sunlight, cradled her head on her arms, bent a knee so that one thigh curved over the other, and smiled sleepily up at him. Paperman recognized, or thought he did, open invitation. He lay beside her, propped on an elbow. Meadows, having gorged on the scraps, was dozing in the shade, about twenty feet away, his head on his front paws.
     
     
"You not only spread a great picnic, Iris," Norman said softly, "and you're not only exceptionally kind to the lonely wayfarer-you're beautiful."
     
     
She murmured, "What? Full, fat, and drowsy, at the moment."
     
     
"Beautiful, I say. Beautiful and sweet." He leaned over and took her lightly by the shoulders.
     
     
Meadows leaped in the air as though stung by a bee. He closed the distance in four bounds, snarling and yelping. Paperman snatched his hands off the woman. The dog stopped short on the other side of Iris, bristling, red-mouthed, making homicidal sounds.
     
     
Iris said with a lazy half-turn of her head, "Oh, Meadows, shut up. What a bore. Yes, Norman? Pay no attention to that boob. You were saying-"
     
     
"Iris, I understand devotion, I admire it," Norman said, annoyed and quite intimidated, "but isn't this kind of unhealthy? I mean this joker is your dog, he isn't your husband."
     
     
"Isn't it ridiculous? I can't even dance with a man when he's around. He thinks it's a kind of attack."
     
     
The dog was glaring at Norman across Iris's midriff, rumbling evilly in his throat.
     
     
"Well, I mean, is all this a lot of noise, or does he bite?"
     
     
"Norm darling, I actually don't know. Nobody's ever pushed him that far. He once tore up a burglar frightfully in California, but that was different, of course-"
     
     
"Don't you think he'd be happier in the car?"
     
     
"Probably, dear. I'm sure he would be. Put him in."
     
     
"Me? Me put him in? Are you kidding? This dog looks on me as a sort of sex-mad hamburger. I wouldn't make it halfway to the car. He'd arrive there spitting out my sandals."
     
     
Iris sat up, laughing, and put her hand to his face. "Have I told you I think you're funny? I do. Come on, little bow-wow."
     
     
The dog ran with her to the car and bounded in, evidently thinking that he and Iris were going to drive off and leave Paperman behind. He whined long and dismally when she shut the door and went back to the blanket.
     
     
"Well, now, where were we?" she said, settling herself on a back rest and igniting a cigarette.
     
     
"You were about to have a nap."
     
     
"Yes, and you were about to get fresh. Meadows knows your kind. All you are is a gay deceiver." She giggled. "That was a good joke, the sex-mad hamburger. Did you ever write jokes? I guess all press agents do, those quips in the columns." Paperman, gloomily sifting sand through his fingers, didn't answer. "Oh, come on, Norman. You don't really want to smooch, do you? 1 don't. When you bring your Henny here, I want to be friends with her."
     
     
Paperman lay down, his head on his arms. She ran her fingers through his thick gray hair. "Norman's mad, and I am glad, and I know what'll please him. A bottle of wine to make him shine, and a bottle of ink to make him stink, and Iris Tramm to squeeze him."
     
     
He couldn't help turning his head and grinning at her. "I haven't heard that since I was ten."
     
     
"Sh!" She put her finger on his lips, and cocked her head. "Car coming. Now who on earth? On a plain old Thursday? There's nobody here even on Sunday, half the time."
     
     
A white-painted jeep came weaving through the coconut grove. It drew up near the beach, and out jumped the governor and the two diplomats from Chad, in swimming trunks. A driver wearing shirt, tie, and a black chauffeur's cap remained at the wheel. Sanders waved. "Hello there. Pardon the intrusion. You have the right idea, Iris, showing visitors