On the bus ride to Miss Hanscomb's, way out in Eagle Rock, I was so dreamy and tired. Gretchen had gotten me into a a pink wool business ouffit, fitte... short skirt, with a matching jacket and even a pillbox hat. My haiir was washed, I had a long bath, Gretchen splashed me with some perfume, and I was off to continue my music career. In all the clothing tht I owned, I did not have a single item in pink, and now I was on the bus, all serious, like Moss California Rosebud or something. I hoped. But in the shower, while the hot dropscascaded on my skin, the sound of the stream muffled my sobs and tears flowedinto the water. A smile wrinkled my lips when I returnedto bedroom and after a frantic moment, searching my clothes, I found themall tidily placed on a chair. But the smile didn't linger, he obviously wantedme out of his life as soon as possible, he was a loner, a poet. A painter.There was nothing I could offer him to make me stay – obviously. Ialready had given him all I have. More

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