Chapter 7 | 77
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ake out a little white Alp at the back of my eye. Now I thought thatif I looked into the mirror tomorrow I'd see a doll-size Constantinsitting in my eye and smiling out at me. Well for about an hour we lounged on Constantin’s balcony in twoseparate sling-back chairs with the victrola playing and the balalaikarecords stacked between us. A faint milky light diffused from thestreet lights or the half-moon or the cars or the stars, I couldn’t tellwhat, but apart from holding my hand Constantin showed no desireto seduce me whatsoever. I asked if he was engaged or had any special girl friend, thinkingmaybe that’s what was the matter, but he said no, he made a pointof keeping clear of such attachments. At last I felt a powerful drowsiness drifting through my veins fromall the pine-bark wine I had drunk. “T think I'll go in and lie down,” I said. I strolled casually into the bedroom and stooped over to nudgeoff my shoes. The clean bed bobbed before me like a safe boat. Istretched full-length and shut my eyes. Then I heard Constantinsigh and come in from the balcony. One by one his shoes clonked onto the floor, and he lay down by my side. I looked at him secretly from under a fall of hair. He was lying on his back, his hands under his head, staring atthe ceiling. The starched white sleeves of his shirt, rolled up to theelbows, glimmered eerily in the half-dark and his tan skin seemedalmost black. I thought he must be the most beautiful man I’d everseen. I thought if only I had a keen, shapely bone-structure to myface or could discuss politics shrewdly or was a famous writerConstantin might find me interesting enough to sleep with. And then I wondered if as soon as he came to like me he wouldsink into ordinariness, and if as soon as he came to love me I wouldfind fault after fault, the way I did with Buddy Willard and the boysbefore him.
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