in for a terrifying bit of extravagance, if not an orgy, but now
that he was here, he must go through with it.
And besides, as he now saw, this girl was really pretty. She had
on a Delft blue evening gown of velvet, with slippers and stockings
to match. In her ears were blue earrings and her neck and
shoulders and arms were plump and smooth. The most disturbing
thing about her was that her bodice was cut very low--he dared
scarcely look at her there--and her cheeks and lips were painted--
most assuredly the marks of the scarlet woman. Yet she did not
seem very aggressive, in fact quite human, and she kept looking
rather interestedly at his deep and dark and nervous eyes.
"You work over at the Green-Davidson, too, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Clyde trying to appear as if all this were not new
to him--as if he had often been in just such a place as this, amid
such scenes. "How did you know?"
"Oh, I know Oscar Hegglund," she replied. "He comes around here
once in a while. Is he a friend of yours?"
"Yes. That is, he works over at the hotel with me."
"But you haven't been here before."
"No," said Clyde, swiftly, and yet with a trace of inquiry in his
own mood. Why should she say he hadn't been here before?
"I thought you hadn't. I've seen most of these other boys before,
but I never saw you. You haven't been working over at the hotel
very long, have you?"
"No," said Clyde, a little irritated by this, his eyebrows and the
skin of his forehead rising and falling as he talked--a form of
contraction and expansion that went on involuntarily whenever he
was nervous or thought deeply. "What of it?"
"Oh, nothing. I just knew you hadn't. You don't look very much
like these other boys--you look different." She smiled oddly and
rather ingratiatingly, a smile and a mood which Clyde failed to
interpret.
"How different?" he inquired, solemnly and contentiously, taking up
a glass and drinking from it.
"I'll bet you one thing," she went on, ignoring his inquiry
entirely. "You don't care for girls like me very much, do you?"
"Oh, yes, I do, too," he said, evasively.
"Oh, no, you don't either. I can tell. But I like you just the
same. I like your eyes. You're not like those other fellows.
You're more refined, kinda. I can tell. You don't look like
them."
"Oh, I don't know," replied Clyde, very much pleased and flattered,
his forehead wrinkling and clearing as before. This girl was
certainly not as bad as he thought, maybe. She was more
intelligent--a little more refined than the others. Her costume
was not so gross. And she hadn't thrown herself upon him as had
these others upon Hegglund, Higby, Kinsella and Ratterer. Nearly
all of the group by now were seated upon chairs or divans about the
room and upon their knees were girls. And in front of every couple
was a little table with a bottle of whisky upon it.
"Look who's drinking whisky!" called Kinsella to such of the others
as would pay any attention to him, glancing in Clyde's direction.
"Well, you needn't be afraid of me," went on the girl, while Clyde
glanced at her arms and neck, at her too much revealed bosom, which
quite chilled and yet enticed him. "I haven't been so very long in
this business. And I wouldn't be here now if it hadn't been for
all the bad luck I've had. I'd rather live at home with my family
if I could, only they wouldn't have me, now." She looked rather
solemnly at the floor, thinking mainly of the little inexperienced
dunce Clyde was--so raw and green. Also of the money she had seen
him take out of his pocket--plainly quite a sum. Also how really
good-looking he was, not handsome or vigorous, but pleasing. And
he was thinking at the instant of Esta, as to where she had gone or
was now. What might have befallen her--who could say? What might
have been done to her? Had this girl, by any chance, ever had any
such unfortunate experience as she had had? He felt a growing, if
somewhat grandiose, sympathy, and looked at her as much as to say:
"You poor thing." Yet for the moment he would not trust himself to
say anything or make any further inquiries.
"You fellows who come into a place like this always think so hard
of everybody. I know how you are. But we're not as bad as you
think."
Clyde's brows knit and smoothed again. Perhaps she was not as bad
as he thought. She was a low woman, no doubt--evil but pretty. In
fact, as he looked about the room from time to time, none of the
girls appealed to him more. And she thought him better than these
other boys--more refined--she had detected that. The compliment
stuck. Presently she was filling his glass for him and urging him
to drink with her. Another group of young men arrived about then--
and other girls coming out of the mysterious portals at the rear to
greet them--Hegglund and Ratterer and Kinsella and Higby, as he
saw, mysteriously disappeared up that back stairs that was heavily
curtained from the general room. And as these others came in, this
girl invited him to come and sit upon a divan in the back room
where the lights were dimmer.
And now, seated here, she had drawn very close to him and touched
his hands and finally linking an arm in his and pressing close to
him, inquired if he didn't want to see how pretty some of the rooms
on the second floor were furnished. And seeing that he was quite
alone now--not one of all the group with whom he had come around to
observe him--and that this girl seemed to lean to him warmly and
sympathetically, he allowed himself to be led up that curtained
back stair and into a small pink and blue furnished room, while he
kept saying to himself that this was an outrageous and dangerous
proceeding on his part, and that it might well end in misery for
him. He might contract some dreadful disease. She might charge
him more than he could afford. He was afraid of her--himself--
everything, really--quite nervous and almost dumb with his several
fears and qualms. And yet he went, and, the door locked behind
him, this interestingly well-rounded and graceful Venus turned the
moment they were within and held him to her, then calmly, and
before a tall mirror which revealed her fully to herself and him,
began to disrobe.
Chapter 11
The effect of this adventure on Clyde was such as might have been
expected in connection with one so new and strange to such a world
as this. In spite of all that deep and urgent curiosity and desire
that had eventually led him to that place and caused him to yield,
still, because of the moral precepts with which he had so long been
familiar, and also because of the nervous esthetic inhibitions
which were characteristic of him, he could not but look back upon
all this as decidedly degrading and sinful. His parents were
probably right when they preached that this was all low and
shameful. And yet this whole adventure and the world in which it
was laid, once it was all over, was lit with a kind of gross, pagan
beauty or vulgar charm for him. And until other and more
interesting things had partially effaced it, he could not help
thinking back upon it with considerable interest and pleasure,
even.
In addition he kept telling himself that now, having as much money
as he was making, he could go and do about as he pleased. He need
not go there any more if he did not want to, but he could go to
other places that might not be as low, maybe--more refined. He
wouldn't want to go with a crowd like that again. He would rather
have just one girl somewhere if he could find her--a girl such as
those with whom he had seen Sieberling and Doyle associate. And
so, despite all of his troublesome thoughts of the night before, he
was thus won quickly over to this new source of pleasure if not its
primary setting. He must find a free pagan girl of his own
somewhere if he could, like Doyle, and spend his money on her. And
he could scarcely wait until opportunity should provide him with
the means of gratifying himself in this way.
But more interesting and more to his purpose at the time was the
fact that both Hegglund and Ratterer, in spite of, or possibly
because of, a secret sense of superiority which they detected in
Clyde, were inclined to look upon him with no little interest and
to court him and to include him among all their thoughts of affairs
and pleasures. Indeed, shortly after his first adventure, Ratterer
invited him to come to his home, where, as Clyde most quickly came
to see, was a life very different from his own. At the Griffiths'
all was so solemn and reserved, the still moods of those who feel
the pressure of dogma and conviction. In Ratterer's home, the
reverse of this was nearly true. The mother and sister with whom
he lived, while not without some moral although no particular
religious convictions, were inclined to view life with a great deal
of generosity or, as a moralist would have seen it, laxity. There
had never been any keen moral or characterful direction there at
all. And so it was that Ratterer and his sister Louise, who was
two years younger than himself, now did about as they pleased, and
without thinking very much about it. But his sister chanced to be
shrewd or individual enough not to wish to cast herself away on
just any one.
The interesting part of all this was that Clyde, in spite of a
certain strain of refinement which caused him to look askance at
most of this, was still fascinated by the crude picture of life and
liberty which it offered. Among such as these, at least, he could
go, do, be as he had never gone or done or been before. And
particularly was he pleased and enlightened--or rather dubiously
liberated--in connection with his nervousness and uncertainty in
regard to his charm or fascination for girls of his own years. For
up to this very time, and in spite of his recent first visit to the
erotic temple to which Hegglund and the others had led him, he was
still convinced that he had no skill with or charm where girls were
concerned. Their mere proximity or approach was sufficient to
cause him to recede mentally, to chill or palpitate nervously, and
to lose what little natural skill he had for conversation or poised
banter such as other youths possessed. But now, in his visits to
the home of Ratterer, as he soon discovered, he was to have ample
opportunity to test whether this shyness and uncertainty could be
overcome.
For it was a center for the friends of Ratterer and his sister, who
were more or less of one mood in regard to life. Dancing, card-
playing, love-making rather open and unashamed, went on there.
Indeed, up to this time, Clyde would not have imagined that a
parent like Mrs. Ratterer could have been as lackadaisical or
indifferent as she was, apparently, to conduct and morals
generally. He would not have imagined that any mother would have
countenanced the easy camaraderie that existed between the sexes in
Mrs. Ratterer's home.
And very soon, because of several cordial invitations which were
extended to him by Ratterer, he found himself part and parcel of
this group--a group which from one point of view--the ideas held by
its members, the rather wretched English they spoke--he looked down
upon. From another point of view--the freedom they possessed, the
zest with which they managed to contrive social activities and
exchanges--he was drawn to them. Because, for the first time,
these permitted him, if he chose, to have a girl of his own, if
only he could summon the courage. And this, owing to the well-
meant ministrations of Ratterer and his sister and their friends,
he soon sought to accomplish. Indeed the thing began on the
occasion of his first visit to the Ratterers.
Louise Ratterer worked in a dry-goods store and often came home a
little late for dinner. On this occasion she did not appear until
seven, and the eating of the family meal was postponed accordingly.
In the meantime, two girl friends of Louise arrived to consult her
in connection with something, and finding her delayed, and Ratterer
and Clyde there, they made themselves at home, rather impressed and
interested by Clyde and his new finery. For he, at once girl-
hungry and girl-shy, held himself nervously aloof, a manifestation
which they mistook for a conviction of superiority on his part.
And in consequence, arrested by this, they determined to show how
really interesting they were--vamp him--no less. And he found
their crude briskness and effrontery very appealing--so much so
that he was soon taken by the charms of one, a certain Hortense
Briggs, who, like Louise, was nothing more than a crude shop girl
in one of the large stores, but pretty and dark and self-
appreciative. And yet from the first, he realized that she was not
a little coarse and vulgar--a very long way removed from the type
of girl he had been imagining in his dreams that he would like to
have.
"Oh, hasn't she come in yet?" announced Hortense, on first being
admitted by Ratterer and seeing Clyde near one of the front
windows, looking out. "Isn't that too bad? Well, we'll just have
to wait a little bit if you don't mind"--this last with a switch
and a swagger that plainly said, who would mind having us around?
And forthwith she began to primp and admire herself before a mirror
which surmounted an ocher-colored mantelpiece that graced a
fireless grate in the dining-room. And her friend, Greta Miller,
added: "Oh, dear, yes. I hope you won't make us go before she
comes. We didn't come to eat. We thought your dinner would be all
over by now."
"Where do you get that stuff--'put you out'?" replied Ratterer
