up again at Blake, withdrawn and cold, and even as he did so he could feel Blake stiffening away from him. And then the other looked at him, examining his face angrily.
"You don't want me to." He pushed away a strand of hair from his forehead. "Is that it?"
"What do you mean, Bob, I don't want you to."
Huge, hideous laughter burst from Blake. "You're so damned innocent." He sat back against the seat, lifted his rump off the seat like a man suffering from meningitis, and roared into Gaylord's face. "So God damned innocent." He stopped laughing. "What in hell do you take me for … a chump?"
Hot tears came to Gaylord's eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. For a moment he only looked into Blake's cold eyes silently. There was no sound of his crying. There was no sound of the hurt he felt as only he could be hurt. Memory of childish sorrow crept in him. "Maybe we'd better go back," he said. "Don't you think you'd better take me home?" Home. What a valued word, a restful word that monosyllable "home." He savored it.
"God damn it," Blake roared. "I said I wanted to talk to you."
"You haven't so far." He was tired and wanted to get it over. It looked hopeless now but maybe tomorrow … Tomorrow? What about tomorrow? He didn't want to think about tomorrow or the other tomorrows … "I wish you would say something."
"Can't you wait? I've waited for you all afternoon," Blake said harshly. "You sit there and wait until I get damn good and ready. That is if you want to hear what I have to say." He went on as if he was unable to stop talking. "Make up your mind, 'cause it don't make a damned bit of difference to me either way or the other. I'll take you home right now if you want to go."
"No … I don't want to."
"No … I don't want to …" Blake imitated him. "Well, God damn it, be a little patient … But you're not that way are you. You want things to happen right away … You're so damn innocent," he repeated. "So sweet and innocent, you just don't know what's wrong … you'd just love to know but you don't … and you want to so bad … don't you … Shit … You're wrong … that's what it is. You're all wrong, Gaylord … you're wrong for me, you're
