STREETS of NIGHT
BY
John Dos Passos
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
NEW YORK
Et si per talen
Pert tot mi joven,
Pauc mi valdran chan d'auzel.
—PEIRE VIDAL
STREETS of NIGHT
I
"But I don't think I want to, Cham."
"Come along, Fanshaw, you've got to."
"But I wouldn't know what to say to them."
"They'll do the talking.... Look, you've got to come, date's all madean' everything."
Cham Mason stood in his drawers in the middle of the floor, eagerlywaving a shirt into which he was fitting cuff-links. He was apudgy-faced boy with pink cheeks and wiry light hair like an Irishterrier's. He leaned forward with pouting lips towards Fanshaw, who sat,tall and skinny, by the window, with one finger scratching his neckunder the high stiff collar from which dangled a narrow necktie, blue,the faded color of his eyes.
"But jeeze, man," Cham whined.
"Well, what did you go and make it for?"
"Hell, Fanshaw, I couldn't know that Al Winslow was going to getscarlet fever.... Most fellers 'ld be glad of the chance. It isn'teverybody Phoebe Sweeting'll go out with."
"But why don't you go alone?"
"What could I do with two girls in a canoe? And she's got to have herfriend along. You don't realize how respectable chorus girls are."
"I never thought they were respectable at all."
"That shows how little you know about it."
Cham put on his shirt with peevish jerks and went into the next room.Fanshaw looked down at Bryce's American Commonwealth that lay spread outon his knees and tried to go on reading: This decision of the SupremeCourt, however... But why shouldn't he? Fanshaw stretched himselfyawning. The sunlight seeped through the brownish stencilled curtainsand laid a heavy warm hand on his left shoulder. This decision of theSupreme ... He looked down into Mount Auburn Street. It was June anddusty. From the room below came the singsong of somebody playing Sweetand Low on the mandolin. And mother needn't know, and I'm in college ...see life. A man with white pants on ran across the street waving atennis racket. Stoddard, on the Lampoon, knows all the chorines.
Cham, fully dressed in a tweed suit, stood before him with set lips,blinking his eyes to keep from crying.
"Fanshaw, I don't think you're any kind of a..."
"All right, I'll go, Cham, but I won't know what to say to them."
"Gee, that's great." Cham's face became cherubic with smiles. "Justact natural."
"Like when you have your photograph taken," said Fanshaw, laughingshrilly.
"Gee, you're a prince to do it.... I think Phoebe likes me.... It'sjust that I've never had a chance to get her alone."
Their eyes met suddenly. They both blushed and were silent. Fanshaw gotto his feet and walked stiffly to the bookcase to put away his book.
"But Cham." He was hoarse; he cleared his throat. "I don't want tocarry on with those girls. I don't ... I don't do that sort ofthing."
"Don't worry, they won't eat you. I tell you they are very respectablegirls. They don't want to carry on with anybody. They like to have agood time, that's all."
"But all day seems so long."
"We won't start till eleven or so. Phoebe won't be up. Just time to getacquainted."
From far away dustily came the bored strokes of the college bell.
"Ah, there's my three-thirty," said Fanshaw.
It was hot in the room. There was a faint