Chapter 4 Breakfast at Tiffany's-4

Two men came into the bar, and it seemed the moment to leave. Joe Bell followed me to the door. He caught my wrist again. "Do you believe it?" "That you didn't want to touch her?" "I mean about Africa." At that moment I couldn't seem to remember the story, only the image of herriding away on a horse. "Anyway, shes gone." "Yeah," he said, opening the door. "Just gone." Outside, the rain had stopped, there was only a mist of it in the air, so I turned the corner and walked along the street where the brownstone stands. It is a street with trees that in the summer make cool patterns on the pavement; the leaves were yellowed and mostly down, and the rain had made them slippery, they skidded underfoot. The brownstone is midway in the block, next to a church where a blue tower-clock tolls the hours. It has been sleeked up since my day; blackdoor has replaced the old frosted glass, and gray elegant shutters frame the windows. No one I remember still lives there except Madame Sapphia Spanella, ahusky coloratura who every afternoon went roller-skating in Central Park. and looked at the mailboxes. It was one of these mailboxes that had first made me aware of Holly Golightly.

Id been living in the house about a week when I noticed that the mailbox belonging to Apt. 2 had a name-slot fitted with a curious card. Printed, rather Cartier-formal, it read: Miss Holiday Golightly; ,Traveling. It nagged me like a tune: Miss Holiday Golightly, Traveling. One night, it was long past twelve, I woke up at the sound of Mr. Yunioshi calling down the stairs. Since he lived on the top floor, his voice fell through the wholehouse, exasperated and stern. "Miss Golightly! I must protest! " The voice that came back, welling up from the bottom of the stairs, was sillyyoung and self-amused. "Oh, darling, I am sorry. I lost the goddamn key."

"You cannot go on ringing my bell. You must please, please have yourself a keymade." "But I lose them all." "I work, I have to sleep," Mr. Yunioshi shouted. "But always you are ringing mybell…" "Oh, dont be angry, you dear little man: I wont do it again. And if you promisenot to be angry" -- her voice was coming nearer, she was climbing the stairs -- "Imight let you take those pictures we mentioned " By now Id left my bed and opened the door an inch. I could hear Mr. Yunioshissilence: hear, because it was accompanied by an audible change of breath.

"When?" he said. The girl laughed. "Sometime," she answered, slurring the word.