Ann Bannon – Journey To A Woman (страница 13)

Beth thought suddenly of the strange tough little blonde with no makeup and a cigarette drooping froth her mouth in the caffè espresso place. “Who was the girl?” she asked.

“P.K. Schaefer is her name. Vega hates everybody but she hates P.K. worse than poison.”

“Is she sort of a beatnik type? I mean, does she hang out in the coffee houses, does she dress like—”

“Like a goddamn boy,” he finished for her, with the sound of his mother’s disapproval plain in his voice. “Always has a cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth, as if that would make a male of her. As if that would take the place of—oh, hell.” He ordered another drink, staring moodily at the floor.

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