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brightening. “There's five hundred thousand dollars outside wolfing ham and eggs. I want a little of him.”
     Stella swirled the water with her legs. She didn't say anything.
     “Go out and start on him. He's really soft on you so he'll treat you right. Leave it to me to get the dough out of him.”
     Stella shook her head. “No,” she said, biting her lip. “No—no—no!”
     “You can do it. It would be easy. I'll go to bed and then you go to him. Tell him you're frightened by the wind. Play up to him. Give him the works. He's only waiting for you to start. Then I'll come in and you can go to bed. You don't have to go far with him—just enough to get him going”.”
     Stella said “No” again.
     “Think what it will mean. I could knock him down for a grand. Think what that would mean. You and I could go to the best hotel in Miami. We could buy clothes and we could eat what we wanted.”
     Stella put her hands to her face. “And when the money was finished you would find someone else to sell me to. Like you did in Daytona Beach, like you did in Brooklyn, in New Jersey. No—no—no!”
     Gerda got slowly to her feet. “You are the only capital we have,” she said. “You wanted to come with me, didn't you? I didn't ask you to, did I? Do you think I should have any difficulty in getting along by myself? How do you think I've managed before? I'm not afraid of work. I'm strong, not like you. You wanted to be with me—how do you think we can live unless you help? Do you think I'd mind what I did to make you happy? If men wanted me and would pay for me, do you think I should care? Can't you get outside your body and forget that it is you? Use it to get us somewhere, use it as a singer uses his voice.”
     Stella climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel round her. She shivered a little. “How long have I got to do this?” she asked. “Don't you love me any more? Doesn't it mean anything to you that I'm used like this?”
     Gerda went to her, her eyes half closed, knowing that she had got her way, and therefore willing to be kind.
     Denny had finished his meal when Stella came out in a light-blue wrap, which suited her. He was mixing some more cocktails, having drunk six in a row, and he felt a lot better tempered. In fact, he greeted Stella with a grin as she came in.
     “How are you feeling now?” he asked. “You're looking grand. Have a gin and du Bonnet. Can you cook yourself a meal? I wish I could, but I've never learnt how.”
     Stella took a cocktail and began preparing supper. “Don't you want a bath, Mr. Merlin?” she asked.
     Denny shook his head. “No, I'm fine. I guess I've been having a few drinks instead.”
     She turned on the grill and stood waiting for it to heat up. With her back turned to him, she loosened her wrap, then pulled it closely round her as if to avoid spotting the material from the hissing fat.
     Denny could see the slim outline of her figure, the soft curve of her buttocks, and he suddenly wanted her very badly. He turned away and took another drink. “Where's your unpleasant friend?” he asked abruptly.
     Stella stiffened. “Gerda?” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. “What do you mean—unpleasant?”
     Denny shrugged. “Forget it,” he said; “I was forgetting she was a friend of yours.”
     “Gerda's in the bath. She won't be out for ages. She loves to soak. She told me that she'd get her own supper. Odd way we're eating. We ought to have all sat down together.”
     “How old are you?” Denny asked, leaning against the stove, so that he could watch her face. “Right now, you look like a lovely little girl.”
     Stella blushed. “Oh, I'm nineteen,” she said. “I'll be twenty at the end of the month.”
     “Isn't it a pity that you're living this sort of life? I mean,