TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT
'No. You can be in bed with some rich woman
like Helene Bradley. How did she like you? Did
she think you were wonderful?5
Looking at her sad, angry face, pretty with crying,
the lips swollen freshly like something after rain,
her curly dark hair wild about her face, Richard
Gordon gave her up, then, finally:
'And you don't love me any more?'
'I hate the word even.'
'All right/ he said, and slapped her hard and
suddenly across the face.
She cried now from actual pain, not anger, her
face down on the table.
'You didn't need to do that,' she said.
'Oh, yes, I did,5 he said. 'You know an awful lot,
but you don't know how much I needed to do that.'
That afternoon she had not seen him as the door opened.
She had not seen anything but the white ceiling with its
cake-frosting modelling of cupids, doves and scroll work that
the light from the open door suddenly made clear.
Richard Gordon had turned his head and seen himy stand-
ing heavy and bearded in the doorway.
'Don't stop? Htttne had said. 'Please don't stop: Her
bright hair was spread over the pillow.
But Richard Gordon had stopped and his heaS-^as still
'Don't mind him. Don't mind anything. Don't you see
you can't stop now?' the woman had said in desperate