Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

drink in that office of yours, you old bastard!" She took meby the arm. "He's far and away the biggest con-man in thebusiness, but from where I sit it looks like he may have methis match. You've got quite a line and, as a fellow congirl, Iwould like to give it some study." I had made, as I intended,an enormous impression. Over a beaker of Scotch inBuck's office, Letitia told me in no uncertain terms that if Iever wanted to leave Buck there was a place in her officefor a go-getter like me. Buck brightened when he heardthis. "Why, honey, that sounds just swell, don't it? This is toolittle a pond for a talent like yours." To which I replieddemurely, "It may be a small pond but it's ours, Uncle Buck,yours and mine (you see, Letitia, I'm a half-owner of theproperty), and I could never let Uncle Buck down." Buck'sface shut with a snap. Miss Van Allen missed thisexchange, for I had just given her some photographs ofMary-Ann Pringle. 'Pretty girl. But no Marilyn Monroe." Shegave the pictures back. "It's her voice," I explained. "That'swhat makes her a possible immortal. She is the SingingGirl Goddess, waiting for the chance to reveal herself.""They're not making that kind of picture right now. Butmaybe she could work up a nightclub act or get in the roadshow of some Broadway musical. Anyway, on your say-so,I'll listen to her--but not now. What about studs?" Letitia, Ifear, is a monosexual. Only men arouse her. "We got someswell kids..." began Buck but I cut him short. "There's one--maybe. Category: Inarticulate Hero. His name is RustyGodowsky..." "That name has got to go and so do I." Letitiaturned to me. "Come see me the first of the week, Myra