She hesitated a moment, then started for the door.
"I must be going now," she said awkwardly. "I'm glad to have met you. I've heard so much about you from my father."
"Dr. Strassmer!"
She turned toward me in surprise.
"Yes, Mr. Cord?"
"I’ll have to ask you to forgive me again," I said quickly. "Living up here as I have, I seem to have forgotten my manners.
How is your father?"
"He's well and happy, Mr. Cord, thanks to you.
He never gets tired of telling me how you blackmailed Goring into letting him out of Germany.
He thinks you're a very brave man."
I smiled.
"It's your father who is brave, doctor.
What I did was very little."
"To Mother and me, it was a great deal," she said. She hesitated again. "Now I really must be going."
"Stay for dinner," I said. "Robair has a way of stuffing quail with wild rice that I think you'd enjoy."
Her eyes searched mine for a moment.
"I will," she answered. "Under one condition – that you call me Rosa, not doctor."
"Agreed.
Now sit down again and I’ll get Robair to bring you something to drink."
But Robair was already in the doorway with a pitcher of Martinis.
It was too late for her to leave when we were through with dinner, so Robair fixed up the tiny guest room for her.
She went to bed and I sat in the living room for a while and then went to my room.
For the first time in a long while, I could not fall asleep. I stared up at the shadows dancing on the ceiling.
There was a sound at the door and I sat up in the bed.
She stood there silently in the doorway for a moment, then came into the room. She stopped at the side of my bed and looked down at me.
"Don't be frightened, lonely man," she whispered in a soft voice. "I want nothing more from you than this night."
"But, Rosa- "
She pressed a silencing finger to my lips and came down into the bed, all warmth and all woman, all compassion and all understanding.
She cradled my head against her breast almost as a mother would a child.
"Now I understand why McAllister sent me here."
I cupped my hands beneath her firm young breasts.
"Rosa, you're beautiful," I whispered.
I heard her laugh softly.
"I know I’m not beautiful, but I am happy that you should say so."
She lay her head back against the pillow and looked up at me, her eyes soft and warm.
"Kommen sie, liebchen," she said gently, reaching for me with her arms. "You brought my father back to his world, let me try to bring you back to yours."
In me morning, after breakfast, when she had gone, I walked back into the living room thoughtfully.
Robair looked at me from the table, where he was clearing away the dishes.
We didn't speak. We didn't have to. In that moment, we both understood that it was only a matter of time before we would leave the mountain.
The world was not that far away any more.
McAllister was asleep on the couch when I entered the living room. I walked over to him and touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked up at me. "Hello, Jonas," he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He took a cigarette and lit it. A moment later, the sleep was gone from his eyes. "I waited for you because Sheffield is pressing for a meeting," he said. I dropped into the chair opposite him. "Did David pick up the stock?" "Yes." "Does Sheffield know it yet?" "I don't think so," he said. "From the way he's talking, my guess is he still thinks he's got it in the bag." He ground the cigarette out in the ash tray. "Sheffield said that if you'd meet with him before the meeting, he'd be inclined to give you some consideration for your stock." I laughed. "That's very kind of him, isn't it?" I kicked off my shoes. "Tell him to go to hell." "Just a minute, Jonas," Mac said quickly. "I think you'd better meet with him, anyway. He can make a lot of trouble. After all, he'll be voting about thirty per cent of the stock." "Let him," I snapped. "If he wants a fight, I'll curl his hair." "Meet him, anyway," Mac urged. "You've got too many things coming up to get involved in a fight right now." He was right, as usual. I couldn't be in six places at one time. Besides, if I wanted to make The Sinner, I didn't want a stupid minority-stockholder's suit holding up production. "O.K. Call him and tell him to come over right now." "Right now?" Mac asked. "My God! It's four o'clock in the morning." "So what? He's the one who wanted a meeting." Mac went over to the telephone. "And when you get through talking to him," I said, "call Moroni on the Coast and find out if the bank will let me have the money to buy in Sheffield's stock if I give them a first mortgage on the theaters." There was no sense in using any more of my own money than I had to.
3.
I watched Sheffield lift the coffee cup to his lips.
His hair was a little grayer, a little thinner, but the rimless eyeglasses still shone rapaciously over his long, thin nose.
Still, he accepted defeat much more graciously than I would have, if the shoe had been on the other foot.
"Where did I go wrong, Jonas?" he asked casually, his voice as detached as that of a doctor with a clinic patient.
"I certainly was willing to pay enough."
I slumped down in my chair. '"You had the right idea. The thing was that you were using the wrong currency."
"I don't understand."
"Movie people are different.