Read Online Found in the Street by Patricia Highsmith - Free Book Online

in all these years, but Isabel kept to herself in the evenings, and saw her best friends singly for drinks or dinner usually.
    â€œWould you—” Jack had been about to introduce Isabel to Sylvia, but Isabel greeted someone with a warm “ Hello-o ,”and Jack knew she was stuck for a while. Jack took a sip of his white wine, not wanting it now, even though it was excellent cool Frascati. Sylvia. Jack had not thought of her in maybe a year. He realized that he felt a faint resentment toward her, because Natalia had spent so much time with her on that trip when Amelia had been about two years old. It had been as if Natalia had wanted to kick over the traces of marriage, wanted to forget she was a wife and mother and feel independent again. Amelia had stayed with her grandmother in Ardmore, in the care of a nanny whose face Jack remembered but not her name. Natalia had been away for at least six months, and though Sylvia had come back to New York for a time, he remembered, Natalia had gone to Mexico and Sylvia had joined her there for a while. Natalia had come back in a more cheerful mood, but had been rather silent or laconic about her travels. It’s not the first time I’ve been either to Europe or to Mexico, after all. Jack could still hear Natalia’s voice saying that.
    â€œHello, Jack. You look thoughtful.” Louis Wannfeld smiled affably at him. He had a broad mouth with full, pink lips, large teeth, a bald head. “It’s a great party. I’m glad to be here.”
    What did one say to that? Jack murmured something with equal affability, and asked Louis if his drink was all right.
    â€œYes, thanks. Looks like a Bloody Mary but it’s plain tomato juice,” said Louis. “I hear you’ve got some new drawings. For a book.” The spotlight behind Louis, focused mainly on the ceiling, made the crown of Louis’ bare head look as if he wore a silver halo.
    â€œWell—yes. Not yet ready for publication. Or inspection. In fact—” Now Jack smiled. “The book hasn’t got a contract yet, but we have some strong interests, Joel and I.”
    â€œYes, Joel,” said Louis, and sipped. “You don’t even use a pencil starting these drawings, Natalia said.”
    Jack replied. No, under ideal conditions, when he wasn’t working for money. Jack was thinking, the latest was that Louis did not have cancer, though for three weeks Natalia had thought he had, because of what Louis had said. The New York doctor had saved him with a new verdict. What did Louis have? Something that made him watch his diet, cut out coffee, and preferably alcohol too. Jack had an unpleasant feeling that Louis was talking to him now to be polite, so Jack steered him toward Sylvia, who was talking with Joel in the middle of the living-room.
    â€œLouis,” said Sylvia, “are you a stuffed silk shirt tonight or a boiled owl?”
    Louis laughed, his tall lean frame bent in a polite bow. “Not a boiled owl, anyway, I’m on the wagon.”
    Jack had not known that Sylvia and Louis were so chummy. He drifted away to the kitchen to see how Susanne was doing. Susanne had come to help out, and she was busy, but not too busy—she had a wonderfully easy manner—slicing the ham now with a very sharp knife, arranging it on a platter with pickles and olives and chunks of pineapple. Amelia hovered, eager for Susanne to hand her another plate of something that she could pass around.
    â€œDarling, we’re coming to the serious part now,” said Susanne. “You’ll get to put some of the stuff on the table.”
    â€œAnd this .”It was Joel’s voice, distant but loud.
    Jack went down the hall and saw Joel and a couple of other people in his workroom whose curtain was pushed half open. “Hey, Joel,” Jack said, advancing. “What’s up here?”
    â€œI just wanted to show Louis. He asked me about—I just showed