She patted a yawn. "But its nothing. Just messages I leave with the answeringservir. OShaughnessy will know for sure that Ive been up there. Sally tellsme what to say, things like, oh, theres a hurrie in Cuba and its snowing inPalermo. Dont worry, darling," she said, moving to the bed, "Ive taken care ofmyself a long time." The m light seemed refracted through her: as she pulledthe bed covers up to my she gleamed like a transparent child; then she ydown beside me. "Do you mind? I only want to rest a moment. So lets dont sayanother wo to sleep."I preteo, I made my breathing heavy and regur. Bells iower of the-door church rang the half-hour, the hour. It was six whe her hand onmy arm, a fragile touch careful not to waken. "Poor Fred," she whispered, and itseemed she eaking to me, but she was not. "Where are you, Fred? Becauseits cold. Theres snow in the wind." Her cheek came to rest against my shoulder, awarm damp weight."Why are y?"She sprang back, sat up. "Oh, fods sake," she said, starting for the windowand the fire escape, "I hate snoops."The day, Friday, I came home to find outside my drand-luxe Charles Co. basket with her card: Miss Holiday Golightly, Travel sugarless diet. By Wednesdaythoughts of Holly, of Sing Sing and Sally Tomato, of worlds where men forked overfifty dolrs for the powder room, were so stant that I couldnt work. That night Ileft a message in her mailbox: Tomorrow is Thursday. The m rewardedme with a sed note in the py-pen script: Bless you for reminding me. youstop for a drink tonight 6-ish?I waited until ten past six, then made myself dey five minutes more.A creature answered the door. He smelled of cigars and Knize cologne. His shoessported elevated heels; without these added inches, one might have taken him for aLittle Person. His bald freckled head was dwarf-big: attached to it were a pair ofpoiruly elfin ears. He had Pekingese eyes, unpitying and slightly bulged. Tuftsof hair sprouted from his ears, from his nose; his jowls were gray with afternoonbeard, and his handshake almost furry."Kids in the shower," he said, motioning a cigar toward a sound of water hissingin another room. The room in which we stood (we were standing because there wasnothing to sit on) seemed as though it were being just moved into; you expected tosmell wet paint. Suitcases and unpacked crates were the only furniture. The cratesserved as tables. One supported the mixings of a martini; another a mp, aLibertyphone, Hollys red cat and a bowl of yellow roses. Bookcases, c onewall, boasted a half-shelf of literature. I warmed to the room at once, I liked its flyby-night look.The man cleared his throat. "You expected?"He found my nod uain. His cold eyes operated on me, made ,exploratory incisions. "A lot of characters e here, theyre not expected. You knowthe kid long?""Not very.""So you dont know the kid long?""I live upstairs."The answer seemed to expin enough to rex him. "You got the same yout?""Much smaller."He tapped ash on the floor. "This is a dump. This is unbelievable. But the kid dontknow how to live even when shes got the dough." His speech had a jerky metallicrhythm, like a teletype. "So," he said, "what do you think: is she or aint she?""Aint she what?""A phony.""I wouldnt have thought so.""Youre wrong. She is a phony. But oher hand youre right. She isnt aphony because shes a real phony. She believes all this crap she believes. You ttalk her out of it. Ive tried with tears running down my cheeks. Benny Pon,respected everywhere, Benny Pon tried. Benny had it on his mind to marry her,she dont go for it, Benny spent maybe thousands sendio head-shrinkers.