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elect。 Those were the places to seek out then。 That was the cream of the night life； swarming with the sports； the swells； the heavy spenders。 Most of them had cabaret entertainment； if not； tango bands and dancing at the very least。 Benedictine； then。 Crиme de menthe。 Sometimes even champagne。
It tapered off quickly after that。 From about three on； that was the lees of the night。 That was the time to watch out for。 That was the time when the laughter died down； lights started thin ning and the shadows came creeping on； and if you were smart you didn't hang around any more； you went on home。 It was a bad time。 〃The Blue Hour；〃 some of them called it。 〃The Deathwatch；〃 others。 It was a time when things sometimes happened。 Things they told you about behind the back of the hand。 If they were going to at all； that was when they did。
So it will be seen； Clo…Clo was on the town。 The technical designation for her might be a little harder to arrive at。 She was acquiring a second nickname； in fact； that threatened to obliterate the first。 〃 Enganadora；〃 the little cheat。 Fulfillment withheld for promises implicit in her very presence at the places she went。 She honored obligations only when cornered； and even then； in a manner that made it hardly worth while； except for professional wrestlers。 She had already had one or two brushes with the police； not because of her supposed activities； but because of their absence。 Others in her own immediate bracket would warn her； 〃Look out； chica； you'll be getting a bad reputation。 Once you do； they'll steer clear of you like a bad case of smallpox。〃 In other words； in the underworld a bad reputation was directly inverse to what was monly meant by One in the upperworid。
Nonetheless； Clo…Clo remained stubbornly； you might even say fanatically； virtuous at heart。 Her every instinct was that of the good； respectable； industrious middle…class girl who expects to be a wife someday。 She had her own future all staked out。 By thirty at the latest she was going to be married to some honest； hard…working fellow； and have a raft of kids； and maybe a little produce farm outside of town； just a patch。 And if any of them were girls； and so much as looked at anybody； she'd knock the left side of their faces loose from the right。
She still had eleven years and six months to go。
This interlude； therefore； was not a question of looseness of character； it was a matter of financial stringency。 Her intrinsic morality was not in the least impaired by it。 Strangers in bars couldn't reach that。 It was simply being bent a little to permit her to achieve financial security。
At home； in the tumbledown shack on Rivera Street； with shoals of kids sleeping all over the place； they knew that Clo…Clo was not exactly a saint； but the money sure came in handy。 They didn't inquire too closely into her ings and goings。 They had a euphemism for her prolonged and nightly absences； among themselves； among their friends and neighbors； if anyone inquired for her。 〃 Salio para dar una vuelta。〃 She went out to take a stroll。 Well； she had； in a way。 One of these little strolls of hers had once taken her clear across the spine of the continent； as far as Buenos Aires。 But she had e back two days later perfectly unharmed； having jumped the train just one station before it got in in order to retain her free dom of movement； and with marvelous tales to tell。
Her fat； slow…moving mother would sigh and shrug as she broomed a few of the younger kids out of the way。 She was a good daughter。 Here in the home； she was a good daughter。 Outside； well； that was outside。 After all； who was perfect in this world？ Should she； a mother； throw the first stone at her own child？ Besides； it was only for now； a great change was ing someday。 Didn't she； Clo…Clo； say so herself over and over？ 〃You wait； mamita； when I'm thirty I'm going to stop being bad； I'm going to be good after that。〃
And now here she was； stuck in a nine…o'clock stop with a nine…o'clock patron； and it was rapidly nearing eleven。 And one of the sentimental type； the worst kind。 The more sentimental they got； the less they seemed to spend。 This one； perhaps more perspicacious than she gave him credit for being and sensing something within her beneath the scabby outer shell； wanted her to e back to the ship with him； wanted to marry her and take her to someplace called Copenhague and settle down with her there on a dairy farm that he would buy。
This was sheer nonsense as far as Clo…Clo was concerned。 A peso slipped into one's hand at leave…taking； as a little gesture of gratitude for one's time and entertainment efforts； was worth a dozen offers of marriage in Copen； whatever it was。
She was sitting perched there on one of the tall bar stools alongside him； hair a short…cropped black chrysanthemum mop； in a pert bang above the eyes。 Her attitude was a clever synchronization of absorption and vacuity； the former assumed； the latter real。 She was sitting sidewise； with her face toward him； the point of her elbow to the bar and the back of her head balanced in her outspread hand。 She sidled one leg unnoticeably off the rung of the stool； felt for the floor with it； and poised it toe down； having decided to break this off short without wasting any more time about it。
〃And you'd like it； I know you would。〃
〃Sure；〃 Clo…Clo said readily。 〃Where'd you say it was again？〃
〃Copenhague。 I told you three times。〃
Clo…Clo was having trouble with this。 She knew the names of most of the principal countries； Eng land； France； Spain； like that。 You picked them up around town。 It was either a country she had never heard of； or it was an utter lie。 She decided it was an utter lie； since there couldn't be many more countries than England； France； Spain。 It was time to get going。 The shows would be out soon。 Her second leg shifted down and lined up against the first。 There was only one more thing that had to leave the chair now。
He noticed finally that her entire figure was about to leave him； just as her attention already had some time before。 He thought it was because his hospitality was remiss。 He looked a little huit； stopped offering her his heart and soul。 He called the barman over。 〃Another for the lady。〃 He'd already told her he didn't like to see her drink。 He'd already started in trying to change her around。
〃No； I've got to go；〃 Clo…Clo said。 She was off the stool now； and he couldn't get her back。 Every move in these breakaways had to be carried out craftily like that； to acplish them successfully。 Now if he reached for her to hold her； she'd just have to step quickly backwards。 〃I've got a date。〃
〃But this is one now you're having with me。〃
〃Sure； but I've already had it； it's over now。 So long。〃
〃But I want you to marry me。〃
〃Day after tomorrow。〃
She was two stools away now。 The barman cut in sidewise toward her； said in a rebuking undertone； 〃What's your hurry？ He's buying good and steady； what do you want to break it up for？〃
〃Give me my mission；〃 she said out of the corner of her mouth。 〃e on； or I'll tell him you insulted me。 And you know what that'll mean； the mirror behind you； all the glasses on the shelves…〃
〃You little bandit；〃 he said bitterly。 Their hands touched briefly across the top of the bar。
〃I can go to Robles' just as well； I don't have to e in here。 You're not losing money on me。〃
Her late host tried to reach her with a persua。 sive sweep of his arm。 She knew enough to stay back beyond reach of it。 〃e here a minute； Clo…Clo。 Little Clo…Clo； don't leave me like this。 We were just beginning to get along so well。〃
〃I know； but time's up now。〃
He wavered toward the entrance after her； both arms out。 〃I wanted you to marry me。 I wanted to take you out of this。〃 He seemed undecided for a minute whether to cry maudlinly or fly into a rage。
She got out over the threshold backwards。 〃Keep him in there； Manuel。〃
Manuel just gave her a dirty look； for cutting short what had been a profitable session。
Her recent escort stood there in the lighted entrance； looking out after her。 〃You're a fine one；〃 he called resentfully。
〃You better go back to your ship； mister； and get some sleep。 Marry the girl in the next port you e to； instead。 After all； we're all alike。〃
She moved on down the narrow； crooked； poorly lighted street； swinging her bag jauntily at her side； a long…legged dryad in a tight black satin skirt。 She glanced back once and he was leaning up against the side of the door； with his face burrowed into the right angle of his upthrust arm； crying because he'd lost her； after looking for her half around the world。 Probably it was just the alcohol alone。 How could you tell when it was real and when it wasn't； anyway； this love stuff？
〃Maybe I should've at that；〃 she dismissed him with an unconcerned shrug。 〃Who knows； maybe if I could see ahead； I'd be sorry that I didn't。〃
Around the very next corner a sudden confrontation occurred。 He stopped short； came back to her。 〃Oh； it's you； is it？〃
〃Have we met before？〃 Clo…Clo asked with polite uncertainty。
〃Have we met before！〃 he scowled。 〃You were ing back in five minutes； and