Beast in View

In Verna’s opinion, Douglas was a born student. He hadn’t finished college because of some highly exaggerated incident in the locker-room of the gym, but he had continued studying on his own and had already covered ceramics, modern poetry, the French impressionists, the growing of avocados, and the clarinet.

‘Duty.’ She repeated the word after him, slowly, as if it had a taste that must be analysed, a flavour pungent with the past: castor oil and algebra and unshed tears and hangnails and ink from leaky pens. Miss Clarvoe was a connoisseur. She could pick out and identify each flavour, no matter how mouldy with age.

Summer had passed. The winter of boredom had set in and frost had formed in the crevices of Blackshear’s mind.

‘Patience, Stella. Patience and poise. One moment of distemper can be as damaging to your skin as two éclairs.’

Miss Clarvoe hung up. She knew how to deal with June and others like her. One hung up. One severed connections. What Miss Clarvoe did not realize was that she had severed too many connections in her life, she had hung up too often, too easily, on too many people. Now, at thirty, she was alone. The telephone no longer rang, and when someone knocked

I couldn’t go back to sleep. I began to wonder about Miss Merrick and when – whether I would hear from her again and what she hoped to get out of me. The only thing I have is money.’ She paused, as if giving him a chance to contradict her or agree with her. Blackshear remained quiet. He knew she was wrong, but he didn’t feel that anything could be

June didn’t believe the rumour. Miss Clarvoe locked things up because she was the kind of person who always locked things up whether they were valuable or not.

The desk clerk, whose name-plate identified him as G. O. Horner, was a thin, elderly man with protuberant eyes that gave him an expression of intense interest and curiosity. The expression was false. After thirty years in the business, people meant no more to him than individual bees do to a beekeeper. Their differences were lost in a welter of sta

‘This is our consultation room,’ Miss Hudson said. ‘I never give the girls any personal criticism. I simply let them study themselves in the mirrors and they tell me what’s wrong. That way, it makes for a more pleasant relationship and better business. Please sit down, Mr Blackshear.’ ‘Thanks. Why better business?’ ‘I often find that the girls are