Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

mood did not improve. She is shattered. She cannotunderstand why Rusty has deserted her or what he sees inLetitia. This was of course my cue to point out that for anambitious young man like Rusty to be taken up by Letitia isa sure way to stardom. "But he swore he'd never doanything like that. He's just not that kind of a boy...""Apparently he is. I mean, let's face it, he is living with her."Since this brought on more tears, as I intended, I took her inmy arms. She wept into my neck. Never in my life have I feltso entirely warm and contented. "Forget him," I whisperedinto a soft pink ear that smelled of Lux toilet soap. Suddenlyshe sat up and dried her eyes. "I could murder him!" Hervoice had gone cello with rage. "Now, now you mustn't beangry with the boy." I was supremely anodyne. "After all,that's the way he is. You can't change people. Just thinkhow lucky you are to have learned all this now instead ofafter you were married, and had children." "I'll never marry! Ihate men." She got shakily to her feet (she was quitedrunk), and made her way to the bedroom. When I helpedher to undress (for once she really needed help), she wasgrateful for my attentions which I managed to makediscreet, despite the turmoil caused in me whenever thosemarvelous breasts are unveiled. Then she threw herselfonto the bed, and as I pulled off her stockings she pointedher feet like a ballerina. But before I could remove herpanties, she pulled the sheet over herself and said, "I'm sotired. The room's spinning around......" Her eyes shut. Iturned out the light and got into bed. Shyly, I put out my handbeneath the sheet and touched the nearer breast. She