She looked at the card, from which a crisp fifty-dollar bill slid onto the tablecloth. She stared at it where it lay.
‘That what I think it is?’ said Sven, leaning forward to examine it.
‘He wants me to go out and buy a nice dress. And then come home.’ She placed the card on the table.
There was a long silence.
‘You’re not going,’ said Margery.
Alice lifted her head. ‘I wouldn’t go if he paid me a thousand dollars.’ She swallowed, and stuffed the money back into the envelope. ‘I will try to find somewhere else to stay, though. I don’t want to get under your feet.’
‘Are you kidding? You stay as long as you like. You’re no trouble, Alice. Besides, Bluey’s so taken with you it’s nice not to have to fight the dog for Sven’s attention.’
Only Margery noticed Fred’s sigh of relief.
‘Right!’ said Margery. ‘That’s settled. Alice stays. Why don’t I clear up? Then we can fetch Sven’s cinnamon cookies. If we can’t eat them, we can use them for target practice.’
27 December 1937
Dear Mr Van Cleve
You have made quite clear on more than one occasion that you think I am a whore. But, unlike a whore, I can’t be bought.
I am therefore returning your money via Annie’s safekeeping.
Please could you arrange to have my things sent to Margery O’Hare’s home for the time being.
Sincerely
Alice
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