And thanks."
The surgeon's dark eyes were serious.
"Good-by, Mr. Standhurst," he said.
"I'm sorry." He started for the door. The old man's voice turned him around.
"Will you do me a favor, Doc?"
"Anything I can, Mr. Standhurst." "That nurse up in the operating room," Standhurst said. "The one with the gray eyes and the tits."
The surgeon knew whom he meant.
"Miss Denton?"
"If that's her name," the old man said.
The surgeon nodded.
"She said if I wanted to see her without her mask, she'd come down.
Would you leave word with Colton on your way out that I'd like her to join me for lunch?"
The surgeon laughed. "Will do, Mr. Standhurst"
10.
Jennie picked up the bottle of champagne and poured it into the tall glass filled with ice cubes.
The wine bubbled up with a fine frothy head, then settled back slowly as she filled it to the brim.
She put the glass straw into the glass and handed it to Standhurst.
"Here's your ginger ale, Charlie."
He grinned at her mischievously.
"If you're looking for something to bring up the gas," he said, "champagne beats ginger ale any time." He sipped at it appreciatively. "Ah," he said and burped. "Have some, maybe it will make you feel sexy."
"What good would it do you if I did?" Jennie retorted.
"I'd feel good just remembering what I'd have done if it were twenty years ago."
"Better make it forty, to be safe."
"No." He shook his head. "Twenty was the best.
Maybe it's because I appreciated it more then, knowing it wasn't going to last very long."
The teletype in the corner of the library began to chatter.
Jennie got up out of the chair and walked over to it.
When it stopped, she tore the message off and came back to him. "They just nominated Roosevelt for a second term." She handed him the yellow sheet.
"I expected that," he said.
"Now they'll never get the son of a bitch out of there.
But why should I worry? I won't be around."
The telephone began to ring almost as he finished speaking. It was the direct wire from his Los Angeles paper.
She picked it up off the desk and brought it over to him.
"Standhurst," he said into it.
She could hear a faint buzz on the other end of the wire.
His face was expressionless as he listened.
"Hell, no! There's time enough to editorialize after he's made his acceptance speech.
At least, then we'll have an idea of what promises he's going to break.
No editorials until tomorrow.
That goes for all the papers. Put it on the teletype."
He put down the telephone and looked at her.
Immediately, the teletype began to clatter again.
She walked over and looked down at it. Green letters began to appear on the yellow paper.
FROM CHARLES STANDHURST TO ALL PAPERS: IMPORTANT. ABSOLUTELY NO EDITORIALS RE NOMINATION ROOSEVELT UNTIL ACCEPTANCE SPEECH IS MADE AND EVALUATED. REPEAT. ABSOLUTELY NO EDITORIALS RE NOMINATION ROOSE-
She walked away from the teletype while it was still chattering.
"That's your orders, boss."
"Good.
Now turn the damn thing off so we can talk."
She went over and flipped the switch, then came back and sat down opposite him.
She took a cigarette and lit it as he sipped the champagne through the straw reflectively.