Free The Lady and Her Doctor by Evelyn Piper

rush it. Three weeks was nothing, he had told himself, he’d ruin everything if he rushed it, he had to go slow—and now—) His face showed his thought. She pointed at his face.
    â€œWhat a fix it has been in, hasn’t it?” she asked. “Literally The Doctor’s Dilemma . Shaw,” she said, “Uncle Miltie Shaw, darling! The poor, poor doctor’s been between Scylla and Charybdis. Certainly if you—couchezed avec a good girl you should make it right. But if the girl is in mourning—if the girl is rich.… But darling Milton,” she whispered, “I am not really in mourning. Oh, there are bad dreams, darling, when I need you near me because you know, because you’re the only one—and there are … other dreams when I also need you near me.” His mouth was hanging open and she put her hand under his chin and gently closed it. “Don’t bother puzzling it out, dear blind Milton—will you marry me?”
    He sat with his arm around her and squeezed her to him. She leaned her head against him and he could smell the faint odor of her hair. She must shampoo it with Ivory soap, he thought. Ivory soap, for the love of Mike! Because that was one more thing he didn’t understand about her. She was wearing the same old black dress and her hair skinned back the same old way and no make-up. Having asked him to come to see her right after lunch, having known what she was going to talk about, how could any female woman do so little to make herself attractive to a man? He could imagine what Cissie Parker would have done in similar circumstances.
    â€œYes?” Sloane asked.
    He must have looked as if he was going to say something. “You know what I’m going to give you for an engagement present?”
    â€œNot a ring, Milton, please. I don’t ever wear jewelry.”
    â€œI couldn’t afford to give you jewelry.” He got off the sofa and knelt in front of her, taking her face between his two hands. “What is it you don’t have? Anyhow, as far as I can see, you don’t have it. What is it every other girl beginning at twelve years of age has? What did the Browning girl have that you don’t have?” She couldn’t seem to guess. He whispered, “A lipstick.”
    He was engaged. He hadn’t fumbled the ball. He had to tell someone. He wondered what the women at the gate would say if he told them. He should tell them, he had one of them to thank for passing on the good word to Jenny. Mrs. Levinson, probably. He nodded to Mrs. Levinson and asked about her Michael, then got into the car and turned its nose toward home.
    Home, hell!
    Because he was excited, he didn’t ring the bell but used his key and let himself in. The minute he opened the door there was a kind of scurry along the back hall, a door opened and was immediately closed. He got there quickly enough to see that it was his closet door she had opened and shut. Jenny was standing in the entrance to the bathroom.
    â€œOh, it’s you,” she said, “that’s O.K. I thought it was Bud.”
    He flung his closet door open and reached up for the suitcase and felt to see if she had left the straps undone, but if she had opened them, she had fastened them again.
    Jenny had come away from the bathroom and was standing right behind Milton. “What do you want out of the valise, Milt?”
    â€œWhat did you want in my closet? My God, all the privacy I have in this place is in this closet, but you have to stick your nose in there, too!”
    She said, “Now, listen here, Milt—” but then remembered that he had to be handled with kid gloves. “Now, Milt,” she said, and reaching into the closet took out a bottle, showing him that it was peroxide. “All it was, I was touching up my hair, Milt. When you came in I figured it was Bud, so I wanted to quick hide the evidence.” She held the open bottle of peroxide