The self-enchanted : Mae Murray : image of an era (1959)

Ragni. They spoke French, they were bons vivants, every night the young Italian went dancing with them. He watched Count Alex execute the cortez; in short order he had made the dance his own. Almost as quickly, he was penniless. Then he took the letter to the Commissioner of Immigration. His first job had been to help lay out Italian gardens for Mr. Cornelius Bliss' country residence on Long Island; but he got into mischief with the boss' motorcycle. He sprayed roses in Central Park. When he went to take the examination to become an apprentice landscape gardener with the New York Park Commission, he found one needed first to be an American citizen. There had been a hungry, bitter interlude before, through other Italian boys, he got the job at Maxim's; he was a natural dancer and he had a quiet deference women liked. When you saw him closely, as Mae was seeing him, he looked very boyish. He was warm from the dancing, his olive skin glistened, his eyes were luminous and sad. The one flaw in his face was a thin white scar on his right cheek. He saw her note it. "When I was five years old," he told her. "I was trying to shave like a man." "Oh." "They call me Rudy," he went on, holding her tightly, and suddenly she felt his warm breath on her neck. His lips touched her skin. "Don't Rudy. You're spoiling it." "I am excited." He shrugged his shoulders. "You draw me to you." "Dancing is quite enough," she said. And as he relaxed his hold, looking hurt, she quickly added, "Be my dancing friend, Rudy." Then he laughed. "Very well, this is new to me, my dancing friend. I will pick you up after rehearsal tonight, yes ? We will dance properly." "Some other night, Rudy. I have a previous engagement." 33