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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #67138 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67138)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest
-Hemingway
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The Sun Also Rises
-
-Author: Ernest Hemingway
-
-Release Date: January 10, 2022 [eBook #67138]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: This ebook was produced by: Marcia Brooks, Al Haines,
- Paulina Chin & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada
- team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUN ALSO RISES ***
-
-
-
-
-
-
- ERNEST
- HEMINGWAY
-
-
-
- The Sun
- Also Rises
-
-
-
-
- CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
- _New York_
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1926, Charles Scribner’s Sons;
- renewal copyright, 1954, Ernest Hemingway
-
-
- _All rights reserved. No part of this book_
- _may be reproduced in any form without the_
- _permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons._
-
-
- Printed in the United States of America
-
-
-
-
- _This book is for_ HADLEY
- _and for_ JOHN HADLEY NICANOR
-
-
-
-
- ”You are all a lost generation.”
-
- —GERTRUDE STEIN _in conversation_
-
- ”One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but
- the earth abideth forever. . . . The sun also ariseth, and the
- sun goeth down, and hasteth to the place where he arose. . . .
- The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the
- north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth
- again according to his circuits. . . . All the rivers run into
- the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the
- rivers come, thither they return again.”
-
- —_Ecclesiastes_
-
-
-
-
- BOOK I
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 1
-
-
-Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do not
-think that I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it
-meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked
-it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling
-of inferiority and shyness he had felt on being treated as a Jew at
-Princeton. There was a certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock
-down anybody who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a
-thoroughly nice boy, he never fought except in the gym. He was Spider
-Kelly’s star pupil. Spider Kelly taught all his young gentlemen to box
-like featherweights, no matter whether they weighed one hundred and five
-or two hundred and five pounds. But it seemed to fit Cohn. He was really
-very fast. He was so good that Spider promptly overmatched him and got
-his nose permanently flattened. This increased Cohn’s distaste for
-boxing, but it gave him a certain satisfaction of some strange sort, and
-it certainly improved his nose. In his last year at Princeton he read
-too much and took to wearing spectacles. I never met any one of his
-class who remembered him. They did not even remember that he was
-middleweight boxing champion.
-
-I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially when their stories
-hold together, and I always had a suspicion that perhaps Robert Cohn had
-never been middleweight boxing champion, and that perhaps a horse had
-stepped on his face, or that maybe his mother had been frightened or
-seen something, or that he had, maybe, bumped into something as a young
-child, but I finally had somebody verify the story from Spider Kelly.
-Spider Kelly not only remembered Cohn. He had often wondered what had
-become of him.
-
-Robert Cohn was a member, through his father, of one of the richest
-Jewish families in New York, and through his mother of one of the
-oldest. At the military school where he prepped for Princeton, and
-played a very good end on the football team, no one had made him
-race-conscious. No one had ever made him feel he was a Jew, and hence
-any different from anybody else, until he went to Princeton. He was a
-nice boy, a friendly boy, and very shy, and it made him bitter. He took
-it out in boxing, and he came out of Princeton with painful
-self-consciousness and the flattened nose, and was married by the first
-girl who was nice to him. He was married five years, had three children,
-lost most of the fifty thousand dollars his father left him, the balance
-of the estate having gone to his mother, hardened into a rather
-unattractive mould under domestic unhappiness with a rich wife; and just
-when he had made up his mind to leave his wife she left him and went off
-with a miniature-painter. As he had been thinking for months about
-leaving his wife and had not done it because it would be too cruel to
-deprive her of himself, her departure was a very healthful shock.
-
-The divorce was arranged and Robert Cohn went out to the Coast. In
-California he fell among literary people and, as he still had a little
-of the fifty thousand left, in a short time he was backing a review of
-the Arts. The review commenced publication in Carmel, California, and
-finished in Provincetown, Massachusetts. By that time Cohn, who had been
-regarded purely as an angel, and whose name had appeared on the
-editorial page merely as a member of the advisory board, had become the
-sole editor. It was his money and he discovered he liked the authority
-of editing. He was sorry when the magazine became too expensive and he
-had to give it up.
-
-By that time, though, he had other things to worry about. He had been
-taken in hand by a lady who hoped to rise with the magazine. She was
-very forceful, and Cohn never had a chance of not being taken in hand.
-Also he was sure that he loved her. When this lady saw that the magazine
-was not going to rise, she became a little disgusted with Cohn and
-decided that she might as well get what there was to get while there was
-still something available, so she urged that they go to Europe, where
-Cohn could write. They came to Europe, where the lady had been educated,
-and stayed three years. During these three years, the first spent in
-travel, the last two in Paris, Robert Cohn had two friends, Braddocks
-and myself. Braddocks was his literary friend. I was his tennis friend.
-
-The lady who had him, her name was Frances, found toward the end of the
-second year that her looks were going, and her attitude toward Robert
-changed from one of careless possession and exploitation to the absolute
-determination that he should marry her. During this time Robert’s mother
-had settled an allowance on him, about three hundred dollars a month.
-During two years and a half I do not believe that Robert Cohn looked at
-another woman. He was fairly happy, except that, like many people living
-in Europe, he would rather have been in America, and he had discovered
-writing. He wrote a novel, and it was not really such a bad novel as the
-critics later called it, although it was a very poor novel. He read many
-books, played bridge, played tennis, and boxed at a local gymnasium.
-
-I first became aware of his lady’s attitude toward him one night after
-the three of us had dined together. We had dined at l’Avenue’s and
-afterward went to the Café de Versailles for coffee. We had several
-_fines_ after the coffee, and I said I must be going. Cohn had been
-talking about the two of us going off somewhere on a weekend trip. He
-wanted to get out of town and get in a good walk. I suggested we fly to
-Strasbourg and walk up to Saint Odile, or somewhere or other in Alsace.
-“I know a girl in Strasbourg who can show us the town,” I said.
-
-Somebody kicked me under the table. I thought it was accidental and went
-on: “She’s been there two years and knows everything there is to know
-about the town. She’s a swell girl.”
-
-I was kicked again under the table and, looking, saw Frances, Robert’s
-lady, her chin lifting and her face hardening.
-
-“Hell,” I said, “why go to Strasbourg? We could go up to Bruges, or to
-the Ardennes.”
-
-Cohn looked relieved. I was not kicked again. I said good-night and went
-out. Cohn said he wanted to buy a paper and would walk to the corner
-with me. “For God’s sake,” he said, “why did you say that about that
-girl in Strasbourg for? Didn’t you see Frances?”
-
-“No, why should I? If I know an American girl that lives in Strasbourg
-what the hell is it to Frances?”
-
-“It doesn’t make any difference. Any girl. I couldn’t go, that would be
-all.”
-
-“Don’t be silly.”
-
-“You don’t know Frances. Any girl at all. Didn’t you see the way she
-looked?”
-
-“Oh, well,” I said, “let’s go to Senlis.”
-
-“Don’t get sore.”
-
-“I’m not sore. Senlis is a good place and we can stay at the Grand Cerf
-and take a hike in the woods and come home.”
-
-“Good, that will be fine.”
-
-“Well, I’ll see you to-morrow at the courts,” I said.
-
-“Good-night, Jake,” he said, and started back to the café.
-
-“You forgot to get your paper,” I said.
-
-“That’s so.” He walked with me up to the kiosque at the corner. “You are
-not sore, are you, Jake?” He turned with the paper in his hand.
-
-“No, why should I be?”
-
-“See you at tennis,” he said. I watched him walk back to the café
-holding his paper. I rather liked him and evidently she led him quite a
-life.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 2
-
-
-That winter Robert Cohn went over to America with his novel, and it was
-accepted by a fairly good publisher. His going made an awful row I
-heard, and I think that was where Frances lost him, because several
-women were nice to him in New York, and when he came back he was quite
-changed. He was more enthusiastic about America than ever, and he was
-not so simple, and he was not so nice. The publishers had praised his
-novel pretty highly and it rather went to his head. Then several women
-had put themselves out to be nice to him, and his horizons had all
-shifted. For four years his horizon had been absolutely limited to his
-wife. For three years, or almost three years, he had never seen beyond
-Frances. I am sure he had never been in love in his life.
-
-He had married on the rebound from the rotten time he had in college,
-and Frances took him on the rebound from his discovery that he had not
-been everything to his first wife. He was not in love yet but he
-realized that he was an attractive quantity to women, and that the fact
-of a woman caring for him and wanting to live with him was not simply a
-divine miracle. This changed him so that he was not so pleasant to have
-around. Also, playing for higher stakes than he could afford in some
-rather steep bridge games with his New York connections, he had held
-cards and won several hundred dollars. It made him rather vain of his
-bridge game, and he talked several times of how a man could always make
-a living at bridge if he were ever forced to.
-
-Then there was another thing. He had been reading W. H. Hudson. That
-sounds like an innocent occupation, but Cohn had read and reread “The
-Purple Land.” “The Purple Land” is a very sinister book if read too late
-in life. It recounts splendid imaginary amorous adventures of a perfect
-English gentleman in an intensely romantic land, the scenery of which is
-very well described. For a man to take it at thirty-four as a guide-book
-to what life holds is about as safe as it would be for a man of the same
-age to enter Wall Street direct from a French convent, equipped with a
-complete set of the more practical Alger books. Cohn, I believe, took
-every word of “The Purple Land” as literally as though it had been an
-R. G. Dun report. You understand me, he made some reservations, but on
-the whole the book to him was sound. It was all that was needed to set
-him off. I did not realize the extent to which it had set him off until
-one day he came into my office.
-
-“Hello, Robert,” I said. “Did you come in to cheer me up?”
-
-“Would you like to go to South America, Jake?” he asked.
-
-“No.”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“I don’t know. I never wanted to go. Too expensive. You can see all the
-South Americans you want in Paris anyway.”
-
-“They’re not the real South Americans.”
-
-“They look awfully real to me.”
-
-I had a boat train to catch with a week’s mail stories, and only half of
-them written.
-
-“Do you know any dirt?” I asked.
-
-“No.”
-
-“None of your exalted connections getting divorces?”
-
-“No; listen, Jake. If I handled both our expenses, would you go to South
-America with me?”
-
-“Why me?”
-
-“You can talk Spanish. And it would be more fun with two of us.”
-
-“No,” I said, “I like this town and I go to Spain in the summer-time.”
-
-“All my life I’ve wanted to go on a trip like that,” Cohn said. He sat
-down. “I’ll be too old before I can ever do it.”
-
-“Don’t be a fool,” I said. “You can go anywhere you want. You’ve got
-plenty of money.”
-
-“I know. But I can’t get started.”
-
-“Cheer up,” I said. “All countries look just like the moving pictures.”
-
-But I felt sorry for him. He had it badly.
-
-“I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really
-living it.”
-
-“Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bull-fighters.”
-
-“I’m not interested in bull-fighters. That’s an abnormal life. I want to
-go back in the country in South America. We could have a great trip.”
-
-“Did you ever think about going to British East Africa to shoot?”
-
-“No, I wouldn’t like that.”
-
-“I’d go there with you.”
-
-“No; that doesn’t interest me.”
-
-“That’s because you never read a book about it. Go on and read a book
-all full of love affairs with the beautiful shiny black princesses.”
-
-“I want to go to South America.”
-
-He had a hard, Jewish, stubborn streak.
-
-“Come on down-stairs and have a drink.”
-
-“Aren’t you working?”
-
-“No,” I said. We went down the stairs to the café on the ground floor. I
-had discovered that was the best way to get rid of friends. Once you had
-a drink all you had to say was: “Well, I’ve got to get back and get off
-some cables,” and it was done. It is very important to discover graceful
-exits like that in the newspaper business, where it is such an important
-part of the ethics that you should never seem to be working. Anyway, we
-went down-stairs to the bar and had a whiskey and soda. Cohn looked at
-the bottles in bins around the wall. “This is a good place,” he said.
-
-“There’s a lot of liquor,” I agreed.
-
-“Listen, Jake,” he leaned forward on the bar. “Don’t you ever get the
-feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage
-of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live
-already?”
-
-“Yes, every once in a while.”
-
-“Do you know that in about thirty-five years more we’ll be dead?”
-
-“What the hell, Robert,” I said. “What the hell.”
-
-“I’m serious.”
-
-“It’s one thing I don’t worry about,” I said.
-
-“You ought to.”
-
-“I’ve had plenty to worry about one time or other. I’m through
-worrying.”
-
-“Well, I want to go to South America.”
-
-“Listen, Robert, going to another country doesn’t make any difference.
-I’ve tried all that. You can’t get away from yourself by moving from one
-place to another. There’s nothing to that.”
-
-“But you’ve never been to South America.”
-
-“South America hell! If you went there the way you feel now it would be
-exactly the same. This is a good town. Why don’t you start living your
-life in Paris?”
-
-“I’m sick of Paris, and I’m sick of the Quarter.”
-
-“Stay away from the Quarter. Cruise around by yourself and see what
-happens to you.”
-
-“Nothing happens to me. I walked alone all one night and nothing
-happened except a bicycle cop stopped me and asked to see my papers.”
-
-“Wasn’t the town nice at night?”
-
-“I don’t care for Paris.”
-
-So there you were. I was sorry for him, but it was not a thing you could
-do anything about, because right away you ran up against the two
-stubbornnesses: South America could fix it and he did not like Paris. He
-got the first idea out of a book, and I suppose the second came out of a
-book too.
-
-“Well,” I said, “I’ve got to go up-stairs and get off some cables.”
-
-“Do you really have to go?”
-
-“Yes, I’ve got to get these cables off.”
-
-“Do you mind if I come up and sit around the office?”
-
-“No, come on up.”
-
-He sat in the outer room and read the papers, and the Editor and
-Publisher and I worked hard for two hours. Then I sorted out the
-carbons, stamped on a by-line, put the stuff in a couple of big manila
-envelopes and rang for a boy to take them to the Gare St. Lazare. I went
-out into the other room and there was Robert Cohn asleep in the big
-chair. He was asleep with his head on his arms. I did not like to wake
-him up, but I wanted to lock the office and shove off. I put my hand on
-his shoulder. He shook his head. “I can’t do it,” he said, and put his
-head deeper into his arms. “I can’t do it. Nothing will make me do it.”
-
-“Robert,” I said, and shook him by the shoulder. He looked up. He smiled
-and blinked.
-
-“Did I talk out loud just then?”
-
-“Something. But it wasn’t clear.”
-
-“God, what a rotten dream!”
-
-“Did the typewriter put you to sleep?”
-
-“Guess so. I didn’t sleep all last night.”
-
-“What was the matter?”
-
-“Talking,” he said.
-
-I could picture it. I have a rotten habit of picturing the bedroom
-scenes of my friends. We went out to the Café Napolitain to have an
-_apéritif_ and watch the evening crowd on the Boulevard.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 3
-
-
-It was a warm spring night and I sat at a table on the terrace of the
-Napolitain after Robert had gone, watching it get dark and the electric
-signs come on, and the red and green stop-and-go traffic-signal, and the
-crowd going by, and the horse-cabs clippety-clopping along at the edge
-of the solid taxi traffic, and the _poules_ going by, singly and in
-pairs, looking for the evening meal. I watched a good-looking girl walk
-past the table and watched her go up the street and lost sight of her,
-and watched another, and then saw the first one coming back again. She
-went by once more and I caught her eye, and she came over and sat down
-at the table. The waiter came up.
-
-“Well, what will you drink?” I asked.
-
-“Pernod.”
-
-“That’s not good for little girls.”
-
-“Little girl yourself. Dites garçon, un pernod.”
-
-“A pernod for me, too.”
-
-“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Going on a party?”
-
-“Sure. Aren’t you?”
-
-“I don’t know. You never know in this town.”
-
-“Don’t you like Paris?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”
-
-“Isn’t anywhere else.”
-
-“You’re happy, all right.”
-
-“Happy, hell!”
-
-Pernod is greenish imitation absinthe. When you add water it turns
-milky. It tastes like licorice and it has a good uplift, but it drops
-you just as far. We sat and drank it, and the girl looked sullen.
-
-“Well,” I said, “are you going to buy me a dinner?”
-
-She grinned and I saw why she made a point of not laughing. With her
-mouth closed she was a rather pretty girl. I paid for the saucers and we
-walked out to the street. I hailed a horse-cab and the driver pulled up
-at the curb. Settled back in the slow, smoothly rolling _fiacre_ we
-moved up the Avenue de l’Opéra, passed the locked doors of the shops,
-their windows lighted, the Avenue broad and shiny and almost deserted.
-The cab passed the New York _Herald_ bureau with the window full of
-clocks.
-
-“What are all the clocks for?” she asked.
-
-“They show the hour all over America.”
-
-“Don’t kid me.”
-
-We turned off the Avenue up the Rue des Pyramides, through the traffic
-of the Rue de Rivoli, and through a dark gate into the Tuileries. She
-cuddled against me and I put my arm around her. She looked up to be
-kissed. She touched me with one hand and I put her hand away.
-
-“Never mind.”
-
-“What’s the matter? You sick?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Everybody’s sick. I’m sick, too.”
-
-We came out of the Tuileries into the light and crossed the Seine and
-then turned up the Rue des Saints Pères.
-
-“You oughtn’t to drink pernod if you’re sick.”
-
-“You neither.”
-
-“It doesn’t make any difference with me. It doesn’t make any difference
-with a woman.”
-
-“What are you called?”
-
-“Georgette. How are you called?”
-
-“Jacob.”
-
-“That’s a Flemish name.”
-
-“American too.”
-
-“You’re not Flamand?”
-
-“No, American.”
-
-“Good, I detest Flamands.”
-
-By this time we were at the restaurant. I called to the _cocher_ to
-stop. We got out and Georgette did not like the looks of the place.
-“This is no great thing of a restaurant.”
-
-“No,” I said. “Maybe you would rather go to Foyot’s. Why don’t you keep
-the cab and go on?”
-
-I had picked her up because of a vague sentimental idea that it would be
-nice to eat with some one. It was a long time since I had dined with a
-_poule_, and I had forgotten how dull it could be. We went into the
-restaurant, passed Madame Lavigne at the desk and into a little room.
-Georgette cheered up a little under the food.
-
-“It isn’t bad here,” she said. “It isn’t chic, but the food is all
-right.”
-
-“Better than you eat in Liège.”
-
-“Brussels, you mean.”
-
-We had another bottle of wine and Georgette made a joke. She smiled and
-showed all her bad teeth, and we touched glasses. “You’re not a bad
-type,” she said. “It’s a shame you’re sick. We get on well. What’s the
-matter with you, anyway?”
-
-“I got hurt in the war,” I said.
-
-“Oh, that dirty war.”
-
-We would probably have gone on and discussed the war and agreed that it
-was in reality a calamity for civilization, and perhaps would have been
-better avoided. I was bored enough. Just then from the other room some
-one called: “Barnes! I say, Barnes! Jacob Barnes!”
-
-“It’s a friend calling me,” I explained, and went out.
-
-There was Braddocks at a big table with a party: Cohn, Frances Clyne,
-Mrs. Braddocks, several people I did not know.
-
-“You’re coming to the dance, aren’t you?” Braddocks asked.
-
-“What dance?”
-
-“Why, the dancings. Don’t you know we’ve revived them?” Mrs. Braddocks
-put in.
-
-“You must come, Jake. We’re all going,” Frances said from the end of the
-table. She was tall and had a smile.
-
-“Of course, he’s coming,” Braddocks said. “Come in and have coffee with
-us, Barnes.”
-
-“Right.”
-
-“And bring your friend,” said Mrs. Braddocks laughing. She was a
-Canadian and had all their easy social graces.
-
-“Thanks, we’ll be in,” I said. I went back to the small room.
-
-“Who are your friends?” Georgette asked.
-
-“Writers and artists.”
-
-“There are lots of those on this side of the river.”
-
-“Too many.”
-
-“I think so. Still, some of them make money.”
-
-“Oh, yes.”
-
-We finished the meal and the wine. “Come on,” I said. “We’re going to
-have coffee with the others.”
-
-Georgette opened her bag, made a few passes at her face as she looked in
-the little mirror, re-defined her lips with the lipstick, and
-straightened her hat.
-
-“Good,” she said.
-
-We went into the room full of people and Braddocks and the men at his
-table stood up.
-
-“I wish to present my fiancée, Mademoiselle Georgette Leblanc,” I said.
-Georgette smiled that wonderful smile, and we shook hands all round.
-
-“Are you related to Georgette Leblanc, the singer?” Mrs. Braddocks
-asked.
-
-“Connais pas,” Georgette answered.
-
-“But you have the same name,” Mrs. Braddocks insisted cordially.
-
-“No,” said Georgette. “Not at all. My name is Hobin.”
-
-“But Mr. Barnes introduced you as Mademoiselle Georgette Leblanc. Surely
-he did,” insisted Mrs. Braddocks, who in the excitement of talking
-French was liable to have no idea what she was saying.
-
-“He’s a fool,” Georgette said.
-
-“Oh, it was a joke, then,” Mrs. Braddocks said.
-
-“Yes,” said Georgette. “To laugh at.”
-
-“Did you hear that, Henry?” Mrs. Braddocks called down the table to
-Braddocks. “Mr. Barnes introduced his fiancée as Mademoiselle Leblanc,
-and her name is actually Hobin.”
-
-“Of course, darling. Mademoiselle Hobin, I’ve known her for a very long
-time.”
-
-“Oh, Mademoiselle Hobin,” Frances Clyne called, speaking French very
-rapidly and not seeming so proud and astonished as Mrs. Braddocks at its
-coming out really French. “Have you been in Paris long? Do you like it
-here? You love Paris, do you not?”
-
-“Who’s she?” Georgette turned to me. “Do I have to talk to her?”
-
-She turned to Frances, sitting smiling, her hands folded, her head
-poised on her long neck, her lips pursed ready to start talking again.
-
-“No, I don’t like Paris. It’s expensive and dirty.”
-
-“Really? I find it so extraordinarily clean. One of the cleanest cities
-in all Europe.”
-
-“I find it dirty.”
-
-“How strange! But perhaps you have not been here very long.”
-
-“I’ve been here long enough.”
-
-“But it does have nice people in it. One must grant that.”
-
-Georgette turned to me. “You have nice friends.”
-
-Frances was a little drunk and would have liked to have kept it up but
-the coffee came, and Lavigne with the liqueurs, and after that we all
-went out and started for Braddocks’s dancing-club.
-
-The dancing-club was a _bal musette_ in the Rue de la Montagne Sainte
-Geneviève. Five nights a week the working people of the Pantheon quarter
-danced there. One night a week it was the dancing-club. On Monday nights
-it was closed. When we arrived it was quite empty, except for a
-policeman sitting near the door, the wife of the proprietor back of the
-zinc bar, and the proprietor himself. The daughter of the house came
-downstairs as we went in. There were long benches, and tables ran across
-the room, and at the far end a dancing-floor.
-
-“I wish people would come earlier,” Braddocks said. The daughter came up
-and wanted to know what we would drink. The proprietor got up on a high
-stool beside the dancing-floor and began to play the accordion. He had a
-string of bells around one of his ankles and beat time with his foot as
-he played. Every one danced. It was hot and we came off the floor
-perspiring.
-
-“My God,” Georgette said. “What a box to sweat in!”
-
-“It’s hot.”
-
-“Hot, my God!”
-
-“Take off your hat.”
-
-“That’s a good idea.”
-
-Some one asked Georgette to dance, and I went over to the bar. It was
-really very hot and the accordion music was pleasant in the hot night. I
-drank a beer, standing in the doorway and getting the cool breath of
-wind from the street. Two taxis were coming down the steep street. They
-both stopped in front of the Bal. A crowd of young men, some in jerseys
-and some in their shirt-sleeves, got out. I could see their hands and
-newly washed, wavy hair in the light from the door. The policeman
-standing by the door looked at me and smiled. They came in. As they went
-in, under the light I saw white hands, wavy hair, white faces,
-grimacing, gesturing, talking. With them was Brett. She looked very
-lovely and she was very much with them.
-
-One of them saw Georgette and said: “I do declare. There is an actual
-harlot. I’m going to dance with her, Lett. You watch me.”
-
-The tall dark one, called Lett, said: “Don’t you be rash.”
-
-The wavy blond one answered: “Don’t you worry, dear.” And with them was
-Brett.
-
-I was very angry. Somehow they always made me angry. I know they are
-supposed to be amusing, and you should be tolerant, but I wanted to
-swing on one, any one, anything to shatter that superior, simpering
-composure. Instead, I walked down the street and had a beer at the bar
-at the next Bal. The beer was not good and I had a worse cognac to take
-the taste out of my mouth. When I came back to the Bal there was a crowd
-on the floor and Georgette was dancing with the tall blond youth, who
-danced big-hippily, carrying his head on one side, his eyes lifted as he
-danced. As soon as the music stopped another one of them asked her to
-dance. She had been taken up by them. I knew then that they would all
-dance with her. They are like that.
-
-I sat down at a table. Cohn was sitting there. Frances was dancing. Mrs.
-Braddocks brought up somebody and introduced him as Robert Prentiss. He
-was from New York by way of Chicago, and was a rising new novelist. He
-had some sort of an English accent. I asked him to have a drink.
-
-“Thanks so much,” he said, “I’ve just had one.”
-
-“Have another.”
-
-“Thanks, I will then.”
-
-We got the daughter of the house over and each had a _fine à l’eau_.
-
-“You’re from Kansas City, they tell me,” he said.
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Do you find Paris amusing?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Really?”
-
-I was a little drunk. Not drunk in any positive sense but just enough to
-be careless.
-
-“For God’s sake,” I said, “yes. Don’t you?”
-
-“Oh, how charmingly you get angry,” he said. “I wish I had that
-faculty.”
-
-I got up and walked over toward the dancing-floor. Mrs. Braddocks
-followed me. “Don’t be cross with Robert,” she said. “He’s still only a
-child, you know.”
-
-“I wasn’t cross,” I said. “I just thought perhaps I was going to throw
-up.”
-
-“Your fiancée is having a great success,” Mrs. Braddocks looked out on
-the floor where Georgette was dancing in the arms of the tall, dark one,
-called Lett.
-
-“Isn’t she?” I said.
-
-“Rather,” said Mrs. Braddocks.
-
-Cohn came up. “Come on, Jake,” he said, “have a drink.” We walked over
-to the bar. “What’s the matter with you? You seem all worked up over
-something?”
-
-“Nothing. This whole show makes me sick is all.”
-
-Brett came up to the bar.
-
-“Hello, you chaps.”
-
-“Hello, Brett,” I said. “Why aren’t you tight?”
-
-“Never going to get tight any more. I say, give a chap a brandy and
-soda.”
-
-She stood holding the glass and I saw Robert Cohn looking at her. He
-looked a great deal as his compatriot must have looked when he saw the
-promised land. Cohn, of course, was much younger. But he had that look
-of eager, deserving expectation.
-
-Brett was damned good-looking. She wore a slipover jersey sweater and a
-tweed skirt, and her hair was brushed back like a boy’s. She started all
-that. She was built with curves like the hull of a racing yacht, and you
-missed none of it with that wool jersey.
-
-“It’s a fine crowd you’re with, Brett,” I said.
-
-“Aren’t they lovely? And you, my dear. Where did you get it?”
-
-“At the Napolitain.”
-
-“And have you had a lovely evening?”
-
-“Oh, priceless,” I said.
-
-Brett laughed. “It’s wrong of you, Jake. It’s an insult to all of us.
-Look at Frances there, and Jo.”
-
-This for Cohn’s benefit.
-
-“It’s in restraint of trade,” Brett said. She laughed again.
-
-“You’re wonderfully sober,” I said.
-
-“Yes. Aren’t I? And when one’s with the crowd I’m with, one can drink in
-such safety, too.”
-
-The music started and Robert Cohn said: “Will you dance this with me,
-Lady Brett?”
-
-Brett smiled at him. “I’ve promised to dance this with Jacob,” she
-laughed. “You’ve a hell of a biblical name, Jake.”
-
-“How about the next?” asked Cohn.
-
-“We’re going,” Brett said. “We’ve a date up at Montmartre.” Dancing, I
-looked over Brett’s shoulder and saw Cohn, standing at the bar, still
-watching her.
-
-“You’ve made a new one there,” I said to her.
-
-“Don’t talk about it. Poor chap. I never knew it till just now.”
-
-“Oh, well,” I said. “I suppose you like to add them up.”
-
-“Don’t talk like a fool.”
-
-“You do.”
-
-“Oh, well. What if I do?”
-
-“Nothing,” I said. We were dancing to the accordion and some one was
-playing the banjo. It was hot and I felt happy. We passed close to
-Georgette dancing with another one of them.
-
-“What possessed you to bring her?”
-
-“I don’t know, I just brought her.”
-
-“You’re getting damned romantic.”
-
-“No, bored.”
-
-“Now?”
-
-“No, not now.”
-
-“Let’s get out of here. She’s well taken care of.”
-
-“Do you want to?”
-
-“Would I ask you if I didn’t want to?”
-
-We left the floor and I took my coat off a hanger on the wall and put it
-on. Brett stood by the bar. Cohn was talking to her. I stopped at the
-bar and asked them for an envelope. The patronne found one. I took a
-fifty-franc note from my pocket, put it in the envelope, sealed it, and
-handed it to the patronne.
-
-“If the girl I came with asks for me, will you give her this?” I said.
-“If she goes out with one of those gentlemen, will you save this for
-me?”
-
-“C’est entendu, Monsieur,” the patronne said. “You go now? So early?”
-
-“Yes,” I said.
-
-We started out the door. Cohn was still talking to Brett. She said good
-night and took my arm. “Good night, Cohn,” I said. Outside in the street
-we looked for a taxi.
-
-“You’re going to lose your fifty francs,” Brett said.
-
-“Oh, yes.”
-
-“No taxis.”
-
-“We could walk up to the Pantheon and get one.”
-
-“Come on and we’ll get a drink in the pub next door and send for one.”
-
-“You wouldn’t walk across the street.”
-
-“Not if I could help it.”
-
-We went into the next bar and I sent a waiter for a taxi.
-
-“Well,” I said, “we’re out away from them.”
-
-We stood against the tall zinc bar and did not talk and looked at each
-other. The waiter came and said the taxi was outside. Brett pressed my
-hand hard. I gave the waiter a franc and we went out. “Where should I
-tell him?” I asked.
-
-“Oh, tell him to drive around.”
-
-I told the driver to go to the Parc Montsouris, and got in, and slammed
-the door. Brett was leaning back in the corner, her eyes closed. I got
-in and sat beside her. The cab started with a jerk.
-
-“Oh, darling, I’ve been so miserable,” Brett said.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 4
-
-
-The taxi went up the hill, passed the lighted square, then on into the
-dark, still climbing, then levelled out onto a dark street behind St.
-Etienne du Mont, went smoothly down the asphalt, passed the trees and
-the standing bus at the Place de la Contrescarpe, then turned onto the
-cobbles of the Rue Mouffetard. There were lighted bars and late open
-shops on each side of the street. We were sitting apart and we jolted
-close together going down the old street. Brett’s hat was off. Her head
-was back. I saw her face in the lights from the open shops, then it was
-dark, then I saw her face clearly as we came out on the Avenue des
-Gobelins. The street was torn up and men were working on the car-tracks
-by the light of acetylene flares. Brett’s face was white and the long
-line of her neck showed in the bright light of the flares. The street
-was dark again and I kissed her. Our lips were tight together and then
-she turned away and pressed against the corner of the seat, as far away
-as she could get. Her head was down.
-
-“Don’t touch me,” she said. “Please don’t touch me.”
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“I can’t stand it.”
-
-“Oh, Brett.”
-
-“You mustn’t. You must know. I can’t stand it, that’s all. Oh, darling,
-please understand!”
-
-“Don’t you love me?”
-
-“Love you? I simply turn all to jelly when you touch me.”
-
-“Isn’t there anything we can do about it?”
-
-She was sitting up now. My arm was around her and she was leaning back
-against me, and we were quite calm. She was looking into my eyes with
-that way she had of looking that made you wonder whether she really saw
-out of her own eyes. They would look on and on after every one else’s
-eyes in the world would have stopped looking. She looked as though there
-were nothing on earth she would not look at like that, and really she
-was afraid of so many things.
-
-“And there’s not a damn thing we could do,” I said.
-
-“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to go through that hell again.”
-
-“We’d better keep away from each other.”
-
-“But, darling, I have to see you. It isn’t all that you know.”
-
-“No, but it always gets to be.”
-
-“That’s my fault. Don’t we pay for all the things we do, though?”
-
-She had been looking into my eyes all the time. Her eyes had different
-depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Now you could see all the
-way into them.
-
-“When I think of the hell I’ve put chaps through. I’m paying for it all
-now.”
-
-“Don’t talk like a fool,” I said. “Besides, what happened to me is
-supposed to be funny. I never think about it.”
-
-“Oh, no. I’ll lay you don’t.”
-
-“Well, let’s shut up about it.”
-
-“I laughed about it too, myself, once.” She wasn’t looking at me. “A
-friend of my brother’s came home that way from Mons. It seemed like a
-hell of a joke. Chaps never know anything, do they?”
-
-“No,” I said. “Nobody ever knows anything.”
-
-I was pretty well through with the subject. At one time or another I had
-probably considered it from most of its various angles, including the
-one that certain injuries or imperfections are a subject of merriment
-while remaining quite serious for the person possessing them.
-
-“It’s funny,” I said. “It’s very funny. And it’s a lot of fun, too, to
-be in love.”
-
-“Do you think so?” her eyes looked flat again.
-
-“I don’t mean fun that way. In a way it’s an enjoyable feeling.”
-
-“No,” she said. “I think it’s hell on earth.”
-
-“It’s good to see each other.”
-
-“No. I don’t think it is.”
-
-“Don’t you want to?”
-
-“I have to.”
-
-We were sitting now like two strangers. On the right was the Parc
-Montsouris. The restaurant where they have the pool of live trout and
-where you can sit and look out over the park was closed and dark. The
-driver leaned his head around.
-
-“Where do you want to go?” I asked. Brett turned her head away.
-
-“Oh, go to the Select.”
-
-“Café Select,” I told the driver. “Boulevard Montparnasse.” We drove
-straight down, turning around the Lion de Belfort that guards the
-passing Montrouge trams. Brett looked straight ahead. On the Boulevard
-Raspail, with the lights of Montparnasse in sight, Brett said: “Would
-you mind very much if I asked you to do something?”
-
-“Don’t be silly.”
-
-“Kiss me just once more before we get there.”
-
-When the taxi stopped I got out and paid. Brett came out putting on her
-hat. She gave me her hand as she stepped down. Her hand was shaky. “I
-say, do I look too much of a mess?” She pulled her man’s felt hat down
-and started in for the bar. Inside, against the bar and at tables, were
-most of the crowd who a been at the dance.
-
-“Hello, you chaps,” Brett said. “I’m going to have a drink.”
-
-“Oh, Brett! Brett!” the little Greek portrait-painter, who called
-himself a duke, and whom everybody called Zizi, pushed up to her. “I got
-something fine to tell you.”
-
-“Hello, Zizi,” Brett said.
-
-“I want you to meet a friend,” Zizi said. A fat man came up.
-
-“Count Mippipopolous, meet my friend Lady Ashley.”
-
-“How do you do?” said Brett.
-
-“Well, does your Ladyship have a good time here in Paris?” asked Count
-Mippipopolous, who wore an elk’s tooth on his watch-chain.
-
-“Rather,” said Brett.
-
-“Paris is a fine town all right,” said the count. “But I guess you have
-pretty big doings yourself over in London.”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Brett. “Enormous.”
-
-Braddocks called to me from a table. “Barnes,” he said, “have a drink.
-That girl of yours got in a frightful row.”
-
-“What about?”
-
-“Something the patronne’s daughter said. A corking row. She was rather
-splendid, you know. Showed her yellow card and demanded the patronne’s
-daughter’s too. I say it was a row.”
-
-“What finally happened?”
-
-“Oh, some one took her home. Not a bad-looking girl. Wonderful command
-of the idiom. Do stay and have a drink.”
-
-“No,” I said. “I must shove off. Seen Cohn?”
-
-“He went home with Frances,” Mrs. Braddock put in.
-
-“Poor chap, he looks awfully down,” Braddocks said.
-
-“I dare say he is,” said Mrs. Braddocks.
-
-“I have to shove off,” I said. “Good night.”
-
-I said good night to Brett at the bar. The count was buying champagne.
-“Will you take a glass of wine with us, sir?” he asked.
-
-“No. Thanks awfully. I have to go.”
-
-“Really going?” Brett asked.
-
-“Yes,” I said. “I’ve got a rotten headache.”
-
-“I’ll see you to-morrow?”
-
-“Come in at the office.”
-
-“Hardly.”
-
-“Well, where will I see you?”
-
-“Anywhere around five o’clock.”
-
-“Make it the other side of town then.”
-
-“Good. I’ll be at the Crillon at five.”
-
-“Try and be there,” I said.
-
-“Don’t worry,” Brett said. “I’ve never let you down, have I?”
-
-“Heard from Mike?”
-
-“Letter to-day.”
-
-“Good night, sir,” said the count.
-
-I went out onto the sidewalk and walked down toward the Boulevard St.
-Michel, passed the tables of the Rotonde, still crowded, looked across
-the street at the Dome, its tables running out to the edge of the
-pavement. Some one waved at me from a table, I did not see who it was
-and went on. I wanted to get home. The Boulevard Montparnasse was
-deserted. Lavigne’s was closed tight, and they were stacking the tables
-outside the Closerie des Lilas. I passed Ney’s statue standing among the
-new-leaved chestnut-trees in the arc-light. There was a faded purple
-wreath leaning against the base. I stopped and read the inscription:
-from the Bonapartist Groups, some date; I forget. He looked very fine,
-Marshal Ney in his top-boots, gesturing with his sword among the green
-new horse-chestnut leaves. My flat was just across the street, a little
-way down the Boulevard St. Michel.
-
-There was a light in the concierge’s room and I knocked on the door and
-she gave me my mail. I wished her good night and went up-stairs. There
-were two letters and some papers. I looked at them under the gas-light
-in the dining-room. The letters were from the States. One was a bank
-statement. It showed a balance of $2432.60. I got out my check-book and
-deducted four checks drawn since the first of the month, and discovered
-I had a balance of $1832.60. I wrote this on the back of the statement.
-The other letter was a wedding announcement. Mr. and Mrs. Aloysius Kirby
-announce the marriage of their daughter Katherine—I knew neither the
-girl nor the man she was marrying. They must be circularizing the town.
-It was a funny name. I felt sure I could remember anybody with a name
-like Aloysius. It was a good Catholic name. There was a crest on the
-announcement. Like Zizi the Greek duke. And that count. The count was
-funny. Brett had a title, too. Lady Ashley. To hell with Brett. To hell
-with you, Lady Ashley.
-
-I lit the lamp beside the bed, turned off the gas, and opened the wide
-windows. The bed was far back from the windows, and I sat with the
-windows open and undressed by the bed. Outside a night train, running on
-the street-car tracks, went by carrying vegetables to the markets. They
-were noisy at night when you could not sleep. Undressing, I looked at
-myself in the mirror of the big armoire beside the bed. That was a
-typically French way to furnish a room. Practical, too, I suppose. Of
-all the ways to be wounded. I suppose it was funny. I put on my pajamas
-and got into bed. I had the two bull-fight papers, and I took their
-wrappers off. One was orange. The other yellow. They would both have the
-same news, so whichever I read first would spoil the other. _Le Toril_
-was the better paper, so I started to read it. I read it all the way
-through, including the Petite Correspondance and the Cornigrams. I blew
-out the lamp. Perhaps I would be able to sleep.
-
-My head started to work. The old grievance. Well, it was a rotten way to
-be wounded and flying on a joke front like the Italian. In the Italian
-hospital we were going to form a society. It had a funny name in
-Italian. I wonder what became of the others, the Italians. That was in
-the Ospedale Maggiore in Milano, Padiglione Ponte. The next building was
-the Padiglione Zonda. There was a statue of Ponte, or maybe it was
-Zonda. That was where the liaison colonel came to visit me. That was
-funny. That was about the first funny thing. I was all bandaged up. But
-they had told him about it. Then he made that wonderful speech: “You, a
-foreigner, an Englishman” (any foreigner was an Englishman) “have given
-more than your life.” What a speech! I would like to have it illuminated
-to hang in the office. He never laughed. He was putting himself in my
-place, I guess. “Che mala fortuna! Che mala fortuna!”
-
-I never used to realize it, I guess. I try and play it along and just
-not make trouble for people. Probably I never would have had any trouble
-if I hadn’t run into Brett when they shipped me to England. I suppose
-she only wanted what she couldn’t have. Well, people were that way. To
-hell with people. The Catholic Church had an awfully good way of
-handling all that. Good advice, anyway. Not to think about it. Oh, it
-was swell advice. Try and take it sometime. Try and take it.
-
-I lay awake thinking and my mind jumping around. Then I couldn’t keep
-away from it, and I started to think about Brett and all the rest of it
-went away. I was thinking about Brett and my mind stopped jumping around
-and started to go in sort of smooth waves. Then all of a sudden I
-started to cry. Then after a while it was better and I lay in bed and
-listened to the heavy trams go by and way down the street, and then I
-went to sleep.
-
-I woke up. There was a row going on outside. I listened and I thought I
-recognized a voice. I put on a dressing-gown and went to the door. The
-concierge was talking down-stairs. She was very angry. I heard my name
-and called down the stairs.
-
-“Is that you, Monsieur Barnes?” the concierge called.
-
-“Yes. It’s me.”
-
-“There’s a species of woman here who’s waked the whole street up. What
-kind of a dirty business at this time of night! She says she must see
-you. I’ve told her you’re asleep.”
-
-Then I heard Brett’s voice. Half asleep I had been sure it was
-Georgette. I don’t know why. She could not have known my address.
-
-“Will you send her up, please?”
-
-Brett came up the stairs. I saw she was quite drunk. “Silly thing to
-do,” she said. “Make an awful row. I say, you weren’t asleep, were you?”
-
-“What did you think I was doing?”
-
-“Don’t know. What time is it?”
-
-I looked at the clock. It was half-past four. “Had no idea what hour it
-was,” Brett said. “I say, can a chap sit down? Don’t be cross, darling.
-Just left the count. He brought me here.”
-
-“What’s he like?” I was getting brandy and soda and glasses.
-
-“Just a little,” said Brett. “Don’t try and make me drunk. The count?
-Oh, rather. He’s quite one of us.”
-
-“Is he a count?”
-
-“Here’s how. I rather think so, you know. Deserves to be, anyhow. Knows
-hell’s own amount about people. Don’t know where he got it all. Owns a
-chain of sweetshops in the States.”
-
-She sipped at her glass.
-
-“Think he called it a chain. Something like that. Linked them all up.
-Told me a little about it. Damned interesting. He’s one of us, though.
-Oh, quite. No doubt. One can always tell.”
-
-She took another drink.
-
-“How do I buck on about all this? You don’t mind, do you? He’s putting
-up for Zizi, you know.”
-
-“Is Zizi really a duke, too?”
-
-“I shouldn’t wonder. Greek, you know. Rotten painter. I rather liked the
-count.”
-
-“Where did you go with him?”
-
-“Oh, everywhere. He just brought me here now. Offered me ten thousand
-dollars to go to Biarritz with him. How much is that in pounds?”
-
-“Around two thousand.”
-
-“Lot of money. I told him I couldn’t do it. He was awfully nice about
-it. Told him I knew too many people in Biarritz.”
-
-Brett laughed.
-
-“I say, you are slow on the up-take,” she said. I had only sipped my
-brandy and soda. I took a long drink.
-
-“That’s better. Very funny,” Brett said. “Then he wanted me to go to
-Cannes with him. Told him I knew too many people in Cannes. Monte Carlo.
-Told him I knew too many people in Monte Carlo. Told him I knew too many
-people everywhere. Quite true, too. So I asked him to bring me here.”
-
-She looked at me, her hand on the table, her glass raised. “Don’t look
-like that,” she said. “Told him I was in love with you. True, too. Don’t
-look like that. He was damn nice about it. Wants to drive us out to
-dinner to-morrow night. Like to go?”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“I’d better go now.”
-
-“Why?”
-
-“Just wanted to see you. Damned silly idea. Want to get dressed and come
-down? He’s got the car just up the street.”
-
-“The count?”
-
-“Himself. And a chauffeur in livery. Going to drive me around and have
-breakfast in the Bois. Hampers. Got it all at Zelli’s. Dozen bottles of
-Mumms. Tempt you?”
-
-“I have to work in the morning,” I said. “I’m too far behind you now to
-catch up and be any fun.”
-
-“Don’t be an ass.”
-
-“Can’t do it.”
-
-“Right. Send him a tender message?”
-
-“Anything. Absolutely.”
-
-“Good night, darling.”
-
-“Don’t be sentimental.”
-
-“You make me ill.”
-
-We kissed good night and Brett shivered. “I’d better go,” she said.
-“Good night, darling.”
-
-“You don’t have to go.”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-We kissed again on the stairs and as I called for the cordon the
-concierge muttered something behind her door. I went back up-stairs and
-from the open window watched Brett walking up the street to the big
-limousine drawn up to the curb under the arc-light. She got in and it
-started off. I turned around. On the table was an empty glass and a
-glass half-full of brandy and soda. I took them both out to the kitchen
-and poured the half-full glass down the sink. I turned off the gas in
-the dining-room, kicked off my slippers sitting on the bed, and got into
-bed. This was Brett, that I had felt like crying about. Then I thought
-of her walking up the street and stepping into the car, as I had last
-seen her, and of course in a little while I felt like hell again. It is
-awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at
-night it is another thing.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 5
-
-
-In the morning I walked down the Boulevard to the rue Soufflot for
-coffee and brioche. It was a fine morning. The horse-chestnut trees in
-the Luxembourg gardens were in bloom. There was the pleasant
-early-morning feeling of a hot day. I read the papers with the coffee
-and then smoked a cigarette. The flower-women were coming up from the
-market and arranging their daily stock. Students went by going up to the
-law school, or down to the Sorbonne. The Boulevard was busy with trams
-and people going to work. I got on an S bus and rode down to the
-Madeleine, standing on the back platform. From the Madeleine I walked
-along the Boulevard des Capucines to the Opéra, and up to my office. I
-passed the man with the jumping frogs and the man with the boxer toys. I
-stepped aside to avoid walking into the thread with which his girl
-assistant manipulated the boxers. She was standing looking away, the
-thread in her folded hands. The man was urging two tourists to buy.
-Three more tourists had stopped and were watching. I walked on behind a
-man who was pushing a roller that printed the name CINZANO on the
-sidewalk in damp letters. All along people were going to work. It felt
-pleasant to be going to work. I walked across the avenue and turned in
-to my office.
-
-Up-stairs in the office I read the French morning papers, smoked, and
-then sat at the typewriter and got off a good morning’s work. At eleven
-o’clock I went over to the Quai d’Orsay in a taxi and went in and sat
-with about a dozen correspondents, while the foreign-office mouthpiece,
-a young Nouvelle Revue Française diplomat in horn-rimmed spectacles,
-talked and answered questions for half an hour. The President of the
-Council was in Lyons making a speech, or, rather he was on his way back.
-Several people asked questions to hear themselves talk and there were a
-couple of questions asked by news service men who wanted to know the
-answers. There was no news. I shared a taxi back from the Quai d’Orsay
-with Woolsey and Krum.
-
-“What do you do nights, Jake?” asked Krum. “I never see you around.”
-
-“Oh, I’m over in the Quarter.”
-
-“I’m coming over some night. The Dingo. That’s the great place, isn’t
-it?”
-
-“Yes. That, or this new dive, The Select.”
-
-“I’ve meant to get over,” said Krum. “You know how it is, though, with a
-wife and kids.”
-
-“Playing any tennis?” Woolsey asked.
-
-“Well, no,” said Krum. “I can’t say I’ve played any this year. I’ve
-tried to get away, but Sundays it’s always rained, and the courts are so
-damned crowded.”
-
-“The Englishmen all have Saturday off,” Woolsey said.
-
-“Lucky beggars,” said Krum. “Well, I’ll tell you. Some day I’m not going
-to be working for an agency. Then I’ll have plenty of time to get out in
-the country.”
-
-“That’s the thing to do. Live out in the country and have a little car.”
-
-“I’ve been thinking some about getting a car next year.”
-
-I banged on the glass. The chauffeur stopped. “Here’s my street,” I
-said. “Come in and have a drink.”
-
-“Thanks, old man,” Krum said. Woolsey shook his head. “I’ve got to file
-that line he got off this morning.”
-
-I put a two-franc piece in Krum’s hand.
-
-“You’re crazy, Jake,” he said. “This is on me.”
-
-“It’s all on the office, anyway.”
-
-“Nope. I want to get it.”
-
-I waved good-by. Krum put his head out. “See you at the lunch on
-Wednesday.”
-
-“You bet.”
-
-I went to the office in the elevator. Robert Cohn was waiting for me.
-“Hello, Jake,” he said. “Going out to lunch?”
-
-“Yes. Let me see if there is anything new.”
-
-“Where will we eat?”
-
-“Anywhere.”
-
-I was looking over my desk. “Where do you want to eat?”
-
-“How about Wetzel’s? They’ve got good hors d’œuvres.”
-
-In the restaurant we ordered hors d’œuvres and beer. The sommelier
-brought the beer, tall, beaded on the outside of the steins, and cold.
-There were a dozen different dishes of hors d’œuvres.
-
-“Have any fun last night?” I asked.
-
-“No. I don’t think so.”
-
-“How’s the writing going?”
-
-“Rotten. I can’t get this second book going.”
-
-“That happens to everybody.”
-
-“Oh, I’m sure of that. It gets me worried, though.”
-
-“Thought any more about going to South America?”
-
-“I mean that.”
-
-“Well, why don’t you start off?”
-
-“Frances.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “take her with you.”
-
-“She wouldn’t like it. That isn’t the sort of thing she likes. She likes
-a lot of people around.”
-
-“Tell her to go to hell.”
-
-“I can’t. I’ve got certain obligations to her.”
-
-He shoved the sliced cucumbers away and took a pickled herring.
-
-“What do you know about Lady Brett Ashley, Jake?”
-
-“Her name’s Lady Ashley. Brett’s her own name. She’s a nice girl,” I
-said. “She’s getting a divorce and she’s going to marry Mike Campbell.
-He’s over in Scotland now. Why?”
-
-“She’s a remarkably attractive woman.”
-
-“Isn’t she?”
-
-“There’s a certain quality about her, a certain fineness. She seems to
-be absolutely fine and straight.”
-
-“She’s very nice.”
-
-“I don’t know how to describe the quality,” Cohn said. “I suppose it’s
-breeding.”
-
-“You sound as though you liked her pretty well.”
-
-“I do. I shouldn’t wonder if I were in love with her.”
-
-“She’s a drunk,” I said. “She’s in love with Mike Campbell, and she’s
-going to marry him. He’s going to be rich as hell some day.”
-
-“I don’t believe she’ll ever marry him.”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“I don’t know. I just don’t believe it. Have you known her a long time?”
-
-“Yes,” I said. “She was a V. A. D. in a hospital I was in during the
-war.”
-
-“She must have been just a kid then.”
-
-“She’s thirty-four now.”
-
-“When did she marry Ashley?”
-
-“During the war. Her own true love had just kicked off with the
-dysentery.”
-
-“You talk sort of bitter.”
-
-“Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to give you the facts.”
-
-“I don’t believe she would marry anybody she didn’t love.”
-
-“Well,” I said. “She’s done it twice.”
-
-“I don’t believe it.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “don’t ask me a lot of fool questions if you don’t like
-the answers.”
-
-“I didn’t ask you that.”
-
-“You asked me what I knew about Brett Ashley.”
-
-“I didn’t ask you to insult her.”
-
-“Oh, go to hell.”
-
-He stood up from the table his face white, and stood there white and
-angry behind the little plates of hors d’œuvres.
-
-“Sit down,” I said. “Don’t be a fool.”
-
-“You’ve got to take that back.”
-
-“Oh, cut out the prep-school stuff.”
-
-“Take it back.”
-
-“Sure. Anything. I never heard of Brett Ashley. How’s that?
-
-“No. Not that. About me going to hell.”
-
-“Oh, don’t go to hell,” I said. “Stick around. We’re just starting
-lunch.”
-
-Cohn smiled again and sat down. He seemed glad to sit down. What the
-hell would he have done if he hadn’t sat down? “You say such damned
-insulting things, Jake.”
-
-“I’m sorry. I’ve got a nasty tongue. I never mean it when I say nasty
-things.”
-
-“I know it,” Cohn said. “You’re really about the best friend I have,
-Jake.”
-
-God help you, I thought. “Forget what I said,” I said out loud. “I’m
-sorry.”
-
-“It’s all right. It’s fine. I was just sore for a minute.”
-
-“Good. Let’s get something else to eat.”
-
-After we finished the lunch we walked up to the Café de la Paix and had
-coffee. I could feel Cohn wanted to bring up Brett again, but I held him
-off it. We talked about one thing and another, and I left him to come to
-the office.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 6
-
-
-At five o’clock I was in the Hotel Crillon waiting for Brett. She was
-not there, so I sat down and wrote some letters. They were not very good
-letters but I hoped their being on Crillon stationery would help them.
-Brett did not turn up, so about quarter to six I went down to the bar
-and had a Jack Rose with George the barman. Brett had not been in the
-bar either, and so I looked for her up-stairs on my way out, and took a
-taxi to the Café Select. Crossing the Seine I saw a string of barges
-being towed empty down the current, riding high, the bargemen at the
-sweeps as they came toward the bridge. The river looked nice. It was
-always pleasant crossing bridges in Paris.
-
-The taxi rounded the statue of the inventor of the semaphore engaged in
-doing same, and turned up the Boulevard Raspail, and I sat back to let
-that part of the ride pass. The Boulevard Raspail always made dull
-riding. It was like a certain stretch on the P. L. M. between
-Fontainebleau and Montereau that always made me feel bored and dead and
-dull until it was over. I suppose it is some association of ideas that
-makes those dead places in a journey. There are other streets in Paris
-as ugly as the Boulevard Raspail. It is a street I do not mind walking
-down at all. But I cannot stand to ride along it. Perhaps I had read
-something about it once. That was the way Robert Cohn was about all of
-Paris. I wondered where Cohn got that incapacity to enjoy Paris.
-Possibly from Mencken. Mencken hates Paris, I believe. So many young men
-get their likes and dislikes from Mencken.
-
-The taxi stopped in front of the Rotonde. No matter what café in
-Montparnasse you ask a taxi-driver to bring you to from the right bank
-of the river, they always take you to the Rotonde. Ten years from now it
-will probably be the Dome. It was near enough, anyway. I walked past the
-sad tables of the Rotonde to the Select. There were a few people inside
-at the bar, and outside, alone, sat Harvey Stone. He had a pile of
-saucers in front of him, and he needed a shave.
-
-“Sit down,” said Harvey, “I’ve been looking for you.”
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“Nothing. Just looking for you.”
-
-“Been out to the races?”
-
-“No. Not since Sunday.”
-
-“What do you hear from the States?”
-
-“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“I don’t know. I’m through with them. I’m absolutely through with them.”
-
-He leaned forward and looked me in the eye.
-
-“Do you want to know something, Jake?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“I haven’t had anything to eat for five days.”
-
-I figured rapidly back in my mind. It was three days ago that Harvey had
-won two hundred francs from me shaking poker dice in the New York Bar.
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“No money. Money hasn’t come,” he paused. “I tell you it’s strange,
-Jake. When I’m like this I just want to be alone. I want to stay in my
-own room. I’m like a cat.”
-
-I felt in my pocket.
-
-“Would a hundred help you any, Harvey?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Come on. Let’s go and eat.”
-
-“There’s no hurry. Have a drink.”
-
-“Better eat.”
-
-“No. When I get like this I don’t care whether I eat or not.”
-
-We had a drink. Harvey added my saucer to his own pile.
-
-“Do you know Mencken, Harvey?”
-
-“Yes. Why?”
-
-“What’s he like?”
-
-“He’s all right. He says some pretty funny things. Last time I had
-dinner with him we talked about Hoffenheimer. ‘The trouble is,’ he said,
-‘he’s a garter snapper.’ That’s not bad.”
-
-“That’s not bad.”
-
-“He’s through now,” Harvey went on. “He’s written about all the things
-he knows, and now he’s on all the things he doesn’t know.”
-
-“I guess he’s all right,” I said. “I just can’t read him.”
-
-“Oh, nobody reads him now,” Harvey said, “except the people that used to
-read the Alexander Hamilton Institute.”
-
-“Well,” I said. “That was a good thing, too.”
-
-“Sure,” said Harvey. So we sat and thought deeply for a while.
-
-“Have another port?”
-
-“All right,” said Harvey.
-
-“There comes Cohn,” I said. Robert Cohn was crossing the street.
-
-“That moron,” said Harvey. Cohn came up to our table.
-
-“Hello, you bums,” he said.
-
-“Hello, Robert,” Harvey said. “I was just telling Jake here that you’re
-a moron.”
-
-“What do you mean?”
-
-“Tell us right off. Don’t think. What would you rather do if you could
-do anything you wanted?”
-
-Cohn started to consider.
-
-“Don’t think. Bring it right out.”
-
-“I don’t know,” Cohn said. “What’s it all about, anyway?”
-
-“I mean what would you rather do. What comes into your head first. No
-matter how silly it is.”
-
-“I don’t know,” Cohn said. “I think I’d rather play football again with
-what I know about handling myself, now.”
-
-“I misjudged you,” Harvey said. “You’re not a moron. You’re only a case
-of arrested development.”
-
-“You’re awfully funny, Harvey,” Cohn said. “Some day somebody will push
-your face in.”
-
-Harvey Stone laughed. “You think so. They won’t, though. Because it
-wouldn’t make any difference to me. I’m not a fighter.”
-
-“It would make a difference to you if anybody did it.”
-
-“No, it wouldn’t. That’s where you make your big mistake. Because you’re
-not intelligent.”
-
-“Cut it out about me.”
-
-“Sure,” said Harvey. “It doesn’t make any difference to me. You don’t
-mean anything to me.”
-
-“Come on, Harvey,” I said. “Have another porto.”
-
-“No,” he said. “I’m going up the street and eat. See you later, Jake.”
-
-He walked out and up the street. I watched him crossing the street
-through the taxis, small, heavy, slowly sure of himself in the traffic.
-
-“He always gets me sore,” Cohn said. “I can’t stand him.”
-
-“I like him,” I said. “I’m fond of him. You don’t want to get sore at
-him.”
-
-“I know it,” Cohn said. “He just gets on my nerves.”
-
-“Write this afternoon?”
-
-“No. I couldn’t get it going. It’s harder to do than my first book. I’m
-having a hard time handling it.”
-
-The sort of healthy conceit that he had when he returned from America
-early in the spring was gone. Then he had been sure of his work, only
-with these personal longings for adventure. Now the sureness was gone.
-Somehow I feel I have not shown Robert Cohn clearly. The reason is that
-until he fell in love with Brett, I never heard him make one remark that
-would, in any way, detach him from other people. He was nice to watch on
-the tennis-court, he had a good body, and he kept it in shape; he
-handled his cards well at bridge, and he had a funny sort of
-undergraduate quality about him. If he were in a crowd nothing he said
-stood out. He wore what used to be called polo shirts at school, and may
-be called that still, but he was not professionally youthful. I do not
-believe he thought about his clothes much. Externally he had been formed
-at Princeton. Internally he had been moulded by the two women who had
-trained him. He had a nice, boyish sort of cheerfulness that had never
-been trained out of him, and I probably have not brought it out. He
-loved to win at tennis. He probably loved to win as much as Lenglen, for
-instance. On the other hand, he was not angry at being beaten. When he
-fell in love with Brett his tennis game went all to pieces. People beat
-him who had never had a chance with him. He was very nice about it.
-
-Anyhow, we were sitting on the terrace of the Café Select, and Harvey
-Stone had just crossed the street.
-
-“Come on up to the Lilas,” I said.
-
-“I have a date.”
-
-“What time?”
-
-“Frances is coming here at seven-fifteen.”
-
-“There she is.”
-
-Frances Clyne was coming toward us from across the street. She was a
-very tall girl who walked with a great deal of movement. She waved and
-smiled. We watched her cross the street.
-
-“Hello,” she said, “I’m so glad you’re here, Jake. I’ve been wanting to
-talk to you.”
-
-“Hello, Frances,” said Cohn. He smiled.
-
-“Why, hello, Robert. Are you here?” She went on, talking rapidly. “I’ve
-had the darndest time. This one”—shaking her head at Cohn—“didn’t come
-home for lunch.”
-
-“I wasn’t supposed to.”
-
-“Oh, I know. But you didn’t say anything about it to the cook. Then I
-had a date myself, and Paula wasn’t at her office. I went to the Ritz
-and waited for her, and she never came, and of course I didn’t have
-enough money to lunch at the Ritz——”
-
-“What did you do?”
-
-“Oh, went out, of course.” She spoke in a sort of imitation joyful
-manner. “I always keep my appointments. No one keeps theirs, nowadays. I
-ought to know better. How are you, Jake, anyway?”
-
-“Fine.”
-
-“That was a fine girl you had at the dance, and then went off with that
-Brett one.”
-
-“Don’t you like her?” Cohn asked.
-
-“I think she’s perfectly charming. Don’t you?”
-
-Cohn said nothing.
-
-“Look, Jake. I want to talk with you. Would you come over with me to the
-Dome? You’ll stay here, won’t you, Robert? Come on, Jake.”
-
-We crossed the Boulevard Montparnasse and sat down at a table. A boy
-came up with the _Paris Times_, and I bought one and opened it.
-
-“What’s the matter, Frances?”
-
-“Oh, nothing,” she said, “except that he wants to leave me.”
-
-“How do you mean?”
-
-“Oh, he told every one that we were going to be married, and I told my
-mother and every one, and now he doesn’t want to do it.”
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“He’s decided he hasn’t lived enough. I knew it would happen when he
-went to New York.”
-
-She looked up, very bright-eyed and trying to talk inconsequentially.
-
-“I wouldn’t marry him if he doesn’t want to. Of course I wouldn’t. I
-wouldn’t marry him now for anything. But it does seem to me to be a
-little late now, after we’ve waited three years, and I’ve just gotten my
-divorce.”
-
-I said nothing.
-
-“We were going to celebrate so, and instead we’ve just had scenes. It’s
-so childish. We have dreadful scenes, and he cries and begs me to be
-reasonable, but he says he just can’t do it.”
-
-“It’s rotten luck.”
-
-“I should say it is rotten luck. I’ve wasted two years and a half on him
-now. And I don’t know now if any man will ever want to marry me. Two
-years ago I could have married anybody I wanted, down at Cannes. All the
-old ones that wanted to marry somebody chic and settle down were crazy
-about me. Now I don’t think I could get anybody.”
-
-“Sure, you could marry anybody.”
-
-“No, I don’t believe it. And I’m fond of him, too. And I’d like to have
-children. I always thought we’d have children.”
-
-She looked at me very brightly. “I never liked children much, but I
-don’t want to think I’ll never have them. I always thought I’d have them
-and then like them.”
-
-“He’s got children.”
-
-“Oh, yes. He’s got children, and he’s got money, and he’s got a rich
-mother, and he’s written a book, and nobody will publish my stuff;
-nobody at all. It isn’t bad, either. And I haven’t got any money at all.
-I could have had alimony, but I got the divorce the quickest way.”
-
-She looked at me again very brightly.
-
-“It isn’t right. It’s my own fault and it’s not, too. I ought to have
-known better. And when I tell him he just cries and says he can’t marry.
-Why can’t he marry? I’d be a good wife. I’m easy to get along with. I
-leave him alone. It doesn’t do any good.”
-
-“It’s a rotten shame.”
-
-“Yes, it is a rotten shame. But there’s no use talking about it, is
-there? Come on, let’s go back to the café.”
-
-“And of course there isn’t anything I can do.”
-
-“No. Just don’t let him know I talked to you. I know what he wants.” Now
-for the first time she dropped her bright, terribly cheerful manner. “He
-wants to go back to New York alone, and be there when his book comes out
-so when a lot of little chickens like it. That’s what he wants.”
-
-“Maybe they won’t like it. I don’t think he’s that way. Really.”
-
-“You don’t know him like I do, Jake. That’s what he wants to do. I know
-it. I know it. That’s why he doesn’t want to marry. He wants to have a
-big triumph this fall all by himself.”
-
-“Want to go back to the café?”
-
-“Yes. Come on.”
-
-We got up from the table—they had never brought us a drink—and started
-across the street toward the Select, where Cohn sat smiling at us from
-behind the marble-topped table.
-
-“Well, what are you smiling at?” Frances asked him. “Feel pretty happy?”
-
-“I was smiling at you and Jake with your secrets.”
-
-“Oh, what I’ve told Jake isn’t any secret. Everybody will know it soon
-enough. I only wanted to give Jake a decent version.”
-
-“What was it? About your going to England?”
-
-“Yes, about my going to England. Oh, Jake! I forgot to tell you. I’m
-going to England.”
-
-“Isn’t that fine!”
-
-“Yes, that’s the way it’s done in the very best families. Robert’s
-sending me. He’s going to give me two hundred pounds and then I’m going
-to visit friends. Won’t it be lovely? The friends don’t know about it,
-yet.”
-
-She turned to Cohn and smiled at him. He was not smiling now.
-
-“You were only going to give me a hundred pounds, weren’t you, Robert?
-But I made him give me two hundred. He’s really very generous. Aren’t
-you, Robert?”
-
-I do not know how people could say such terrible things to Robert Cohn.
-There are people to whom you could not say insulting things. They give
-you a feeling that the world would be destroyed, would actually be
-destroyed before your eyes, if you said certain things. But here was
-Cohn taking it all. Here it was, all going on right before me, and I did
-not even feel an impulse to try and stop it. And this was friendly
-joking to what went on later.
-
-“How can you say such things, Frances?” Cohn interrupted.
-
-“Listen to him. I’m going to England. I’m going to visit friends. Ever
-visit friends that didn’t want you? Oh, they’ll have to take me, all
-right. ‘How do you do, my dear? Such a long time since we’ve seen you.
-And how is your dear mother?’ Yes, how is my dear mother? She put all
-her money into French war bonds. Yes, she did. Probably the only person
-in the world that did. ‘And what about Robert?’ or else very careful
-talking around Robert. ‘You must be most careful not to mention him, my
-dear. Poor Frances has had a most unfortunate experience.’ Won’t it be
-fun, Robert? Don’t you think it will be fun, Jake?”
-
-She turned to me with that terribly bright smile. It was very
-satisfactory to her to have an audience for this.
-
-“And where are you going to be, Robert? It’s my own fault, all right.
-Perfectly my own fault. When I made you get rid of your little secretary
-on the magazine I ought to have known you’d get rid of me the same way.
-Jake doesn’t know about that. Should I tell him?”
-
-“Shut up, Frances, for God’s sake.”
-
-“Yes, I’ll tell him. Robert had a little secretary on the magazine. Just
-the sweetest little thing in the world, and he thought she was
-wonderful, and then I came along and he thought I was pretty wonderful,
-too. So I made him get rid of her, and he had brought her to
-Provincetown from Carmel when he moved the magazine, and he didn’t even
-pay her fare back to the coast. All to please me. He thought I was
-pretty fine, then. Didn’t you, Robert?
-
-“You mustn’t misunderstand, Jake, it was absolutely platonic with the
-secretary. Not even platonic. Nothing at all, really. It was just that
-she was so nice. And he did that just to please me. Well, I suppose that
-we that live by the sword shall perish by the sword. Isn’t that
-literary, though? You want to remember that for your next book, Robert.
-
-“You know Robert is going to get material for a new book. Aren’t you,
-Robert? That’s why he’s leaving me. He’s decided I don’t film well. You
-see, he was so busy all the time that we were living together, writing
-on this book, that he doesn’t remember anything about us. So now he’s
-going out and get some new material. Well, I hope he gets something
-frightfully interesting.
-
-“Listen, Robert, dear. Let me tell you something. You won’t mind, will
-you? Don’t have scenes with your young ladies. Try not to. Because you
-can’t have scenes without crying, and then you pity yourself so much you
-can’t remember what the other person’s said. You’ll never be able to
-remember any conversations that way. Just try and be calm. I know it’s
-awfully hard. But remember, it’s for literature. We all ought to make
-sacrifices for literature. Look at me. I’m going to England without a
-protest. All for literature. We must all help young writers. Don’t you
-think so, Jake? But you’re not a young writer. Are you, Robert? You’re
-thirty-four. Still, I suppose that is young for a great writer. Look at
-Hardy. Look at Anatole France. He just died a little while ago. Robert
-doesn’t think he’s any good, though. Some of his French friends told
-him. He doesn’t read French very well himself. He wasn’t a good writer
-like you are, was he, Robert? Do you think he ever had to go and look
-for material? What do you suppose he said to his mistresses when he
-wouldn’t marry them? I wonder if he cried, too? Oh, I’ve just thought of
-something.” She put her gloved hand up to her lips. “I know the real
-reason why Robert won’t marry me, Jake. It’s just come to me. They’ve
-sent it to me in a vision in the Café Select. Isn’t it mystic? Some day
-they’ll put a tablet up. Like at Lourdes. Do you want to hear, Robert?
-I’ll tell you. It’s so simple. I wonder why I never thought about it.
-Why, you see, Robert’s always wanted to have a mistress, and if he
-doesn’t marry me, why, then he’s had one. She was his mistress for over
-two years. See how it is? And if he marries me, like he’s always
-promised he would, that would be the end of all the romance. Don’t you
-think that’s bright of me to figure that out? It’s true, too. Look at
-him and see if it’s not. Where are you going, Jake?”
-
-“I’ve got to go in and see Harvey Stone a minute.”
-
-Cohn looked up as I went in. His face was white. Why did he sit there?
-Why did he keep on taking it like that?
-
-As I stood against the bar looking out I could see them through the
-window. Frances was talking on to him, smiling brightly, looking into
-his face each time she asked: “Isn’t it so, Robert?” Or maybe she did
-not ask that now. Perhaps she said something else. I told the barman I
-did not want anything to drink and went out through the side door. As I
-went out the door I looked back through the two thicknesses of glass and
-saw them sitting there. She was still talking to him. I went down a side
-street to the Boulevard Raspail. A taxi came along and I got in and gave
-the driver the address of my flat.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 7
-
-
-As I started up the stairs the concierge knocked on the glass of the
-door of her lodge, and as I stopped she came out. She had some letters
-and a telegram.
-
-“Here is the post. And there was a lady here to see you.”
-
-“Did she leave a card?”
-
-“No. She was with a gentleman. It was the one who was here last night.
-In the end I find she is very nice.”
-
-“Was she with a friend of mine?”
-
-“I don’t know. He was never here before. He was very large. Very, very
-large. She was very nice. Very, very nice. Last night she was, perhaps,
-a little—” She put her head on one hand and rocked it up and down.
-“I’ll speak perfectly frankly, Monsieur Barnes. Last night I found her
-not so gentille. Last night I formed another idea of her. But listen to
-what I tell you. She is très, très gentille. She is of very good family.
-It is a thing you can see.”
-
-“They did not leave any word?”
-
-“Yes. They said they would be back in an hour.”
-
-“Send them up when they come.”
-
-“Yes, Monsieur Barnes. And that lady, that lady there is some one. An
-eccentric, perhaps, but quelqu’une, quelqu’une!”
-
-The concierge, before she became a concierge, had owned a drink-selling
-concession at the Paris race-courses. Her life-work lay in the pelouse,
-but she kept an eye on the people of the pesage, and she took great
-pride in telling me which of my guests were well brought up, which were
-of good family, who were sportsmen, a French word pronounced with the
-accent on the men. The only trouble was that people who did not fall
-into any of those three categories were very liable to be told there was
-no one home, chez Barnes. One of my friends, an extremely
-underfed-looking painter, who was obviously to Madame Duzinell neither
-well brought up, of good family, nor a sportsman, wrote me a letter
-asking if I could get him a pass to get by the concierge so he could
-come up and see me occasionally in the evenings.
-
-I went up to the flat wondering what Brett had done to the concierge.
-The wire was a cable from Bill Gorton, saying he was arriving on the
-_France_. I put the mail on the table, went back to the bedroom,
-undressed and had a shower. I was rubbing down when I heard the
-door-bell pull. I put on a bathrobe and slippers and went to the door.
-It was Brett. Back of her was the count. He was holding a great bunch of
-roses.
-
-“Hello, darling,” said Brett. “Aren’t you going to let us in?”
-
-“Come on. I was just bathing.”
-
-“Aren’t you the fortunate man. Bathing.”
-
-“Only a shower. Sit down, Count Mippipopolous. What will you drink?”
-
-“I don’t know whether you like flowers, sir,” the count said, “but I
-took the liberty of just bringing these roses.”
-
-“Here, give them to me.” Brett took them. “Get me some water in this,
-Jake.” I filled the big earthenware jug with water in the kitchen, and
-Brett put the roses in it, and placed them in the centre of the
-dining-room table.
-
-“I say. We have had a day.”
-
-“You don’t remember anything about a date with me at the Crillon?”
-
-“No. Did we have one? I must have been blind.”
-
-“You were quite drunk, my dear,” said the count.
-
-“Wasn’t I, though? And the count’s been a brick, absolutely.”
-
-“You’ve got hell’s own drag with the concierge now.”
-
-“I ought to have. Gave her two hundred francs.”
-
-“Don’t be a damned fool.”
-
-“His,” she said, and nodded at the count.
-
-“I thought we ought to give her a little something for last night. It
-was very late.”
-
-“He’s wonderful,” Brett said. “He remembers everything that’s happened.”
-
-“So do you, my dear.”
-
-“Fancy,” said Brett. “Who’d want to? I say, Jake, _do_ we get a drink?”
-
-“You get it while I go in and dress. You know where it is.”
-
-“Rather.”
-
-While I dressed I heard Brett put down glasses and then a siphon, and
-then heard them talking. I dressed slowly, sitting on the bed. I felt
-tired and pretty rotten. Brett came in the room, a glass in her hand,
-and sat on the bed.
-
-“What’s the matter, darling? Do you feel rocky?”
-
-She kissed me coolly on the forehead.
-
-“Oh, Brett, I love you so much.”
-
-“Darling,” she said. Then: “Do you want me to send him away?”
-
-“No. He’s nice.”
-
-“I’ll send him away.”
-
-“No, don’t.”
-
-“Yes, I’ll send him away.”
-
-“You can’t just like that.”
-
-“Can’t I, though? You stay here. He’s mad about me, I tell you.”
-
-She was gone out of the room. I lay face down on the bed. I was having a
-bad time. I heard them talking but I did not listen. Brett came in and
-sat on the bed.
-
-“Poor old darling.” She stroked my head.
-
-“What did you say to him?” I was lying with my face away from her. I did
-not want to see her.
-
-“Sent him for champagne. He loves to go for champagne.”
-
-Then later: “Do you feel better, darling? Is the head any better?”
-
-“It’s better.”
-
-“Lie quiet. He’s gone to the other side of town.”
-
-“Couldn’t we live together, Brett? Couldn’t we just live together?”
-
-“I don’t think so. I’d just _tromper_ you with everybody. You couldn’t
-stand it.”
-
-“I stand it now.”
-
-“That would be different. It’s my fault, Jake. It’s the way I’m made.”
-
-“Couldn’t we go off in the country for a while?”
-
-“It wouldn’t be any good. I’ll go if you like. But I couldn’t live
-quietly in the country. Not with my own true love.”
-
-“I know.”
-
-“Isn’t it rotten? There isn’t any use my telling you I love you.”
-
-“You know I love you.”
-
-“Let’s not talk. Talking’s all bilge. I’m going away from you, and then
-Michael’s coming back.”
-
-“Why are you going away?”
-
-“Better for you. Better for me.”
-
-“When are you going?”
-
-“Soon as I can.”
-
-“Where?”
-
-“San Sebastian.”
-
-“Can’t we go together?”
-
-“No. That would be a hell of an idea after we’d just talked it out.”
-
-“We never agreed.”
-
-“Oh, you know as well as I do. Don’t be obstinate, darling.”
-
-“Oh, sure,” I said. “I know you’re right. I’m just low, and when I’m low
-I talk like a fool.”
-
-I sat up, leaned over, found my shoes beside the bed and put them on. I
-stood up.
-
-“Don’t look like that, darling.”
-
-“How do you want me to look?”
-
-“Oh, don’t be a fool. I’m going away to-morrow.”
-
-“To-morrow?”
-
-“Yes. Didn’t I say so? I am.”
-
-“Let’s have a drink, then. The count will be back.”
-
-“Yes. He should be back. You know he’s extraordinary about buying
-champagne. It means any amount to him.”
-
-We went into the dining-room. I took up the brandy bottle and poured
-Brett a drink and one for myself. There was a ring at the bell-pull. I
-went to the door and there was the count. Behind him was the chauffeur
-carrying a basket of champagne.
-
-“Where should I have him put it, sir?” asked the count.
-
-“In the kitchen,” Brett said.
-
-“Put it in there, Henry,” the count motioned. “Now go down and get the
-ice.” He stood looking after the basket inside the kitchen door. “I
-think you’ll find that’s very good wine,” he said. “I know we don’t get
-much of a chance to judge good wine in the States now, but I got this
-from a friend of mine that’s in the business.”
-
-“Oh, you always have some one in the trade,” Brett said.
-
-“This fellow raises the grapes. He’s got thousands of acres of them.”
-
-“What’s his name?” asked Brett. “Veuve Cliquot?”
-
-“No,” said the count. “Mumms. He’s a baron.”
-
-“Isn’t it wonderful,” said Brett. “We all have titles. Why haven’t you a
-title, Jake?”
-
-“I assure you, sir,” the count put his hand on my arm. “It never does a
-man any good. Most of the time it costs you money.”
-
-“Oh, I don’t know. It’s damned useful sometimes,” Brett said.
-
-“I’ve never known it to do me any good.”
-
-“You haven’t used it properly. I’ve had hell’s own amount of credit on
-mine.”
-
-“Do sit down, count,” I said. “Let me take that stick.”
-
-The count was looking at Brett across the table under the gas-light. She
-was smoking a cigarette and flicking the ashes on the rug. She saw me
-notice it. “I say, Jake, I don’t want to ruin your rugs. Can’t you give
-a chap an ash-tray?”
-
-I found some ash-trays and spread them around. The chauffeur came up
-with a bucket full of salted ice. “Put two bottles in it, Henry,” the
-count called.
-
-“Anything else, sir?”
-
-“No. Wait down in the car.” He turned to Brett and to me. “We’ll want to
-ride out to the Bois for dinner?”
-
-“If you like,” Brett said. “I couldn’t eat a thing.”
-
-“I always like a good meal,” said the count.
-
-“Should I bring the wine in, sir?” asked the chauffeur.
-
-“Yes. Bring it in, Henry,” said the count. He took out a heavy pigskin
-cigar-case and offered it to me. “Like to try a real American cigar?”
-
-“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll finish the cigarette.”
-
-He cut off the end of his cigar with a gold cutter he wore on one end of
-his watch-chain.
-
-“I like a cigar to really draw,” said the count “Half the cigars you
-smoke don’t draw.”
-
-He lit the cigar, puffed at it, looking across the table at Brett. “And
-when you’re divorced, Lady Ashley, then you won’t have a title.”
-
-“No. What a pity.”
-
-“No,” said the count. “You don’t need a title. You got class all over
-you.”
-
-“Thanks. Awfully decent of you.”
-
-“I’m not joking you,” the count blew a cloud of smoke. “You got the most
-class of anybody I ever seen. You got it. That’s all.”
-
-“Nice of you,” said Brett. “Mummy would be pleased. Couldn’t you write
-it out, and I’ll send it in a letter to her.”
-
-“I’d tell her, too,” said the count. “I’m not joking you. I never joke
-people. Joke people and you make enemies. That’s what I always say.”
-
-“You’re right,” Brett said. “You’re terribly right. I always joke people
-and I haven’t a friend in the world. Except Jake here.”
-
-“You don’t joke him.”
-
-“That’s it.”
-
-“Do you, now?” asked the count. “Do you joke him?”
-
-Brett looked at me and wrinkled up the corners of her eyes.
-
-“No,” she said. “I wouldn’t joke him.”
-
-“See,” said the count. “You don’t joke him.”
-
-“This is a hell of a dull talk,” Brett said. “How about some of that
-champagne?”
-
-The count reached down and twirled the bottles in the shiny bucket. “It
-isn’t cold, yet. You’re always drinking, my dear. Why don’t you just
-talk?”
-
-“I’ve talked too ruddy much. I’ve talked myself all out to Jake.”
-
-“I should like to hear you really talk, my dear. When you talk to me you
-never finish your sentences at all.”
-
-“Leave ’em for you to finish. Let any one finish them as they like.”
-
-“It is a very interesting system,” the count reached down and gave the
-bottles a twirl. “Still I would like to hear you talk some time.”
-
-“Isn’t he a fool?” Brett asked.
-
-“Now,” the count brought up a bottle. “I think this is cool.”
-
-I brought a towel and he wiped the bottle dry and held it up. “I like to
-drink champagne from magnums. The wine is better but it would have been
-too hard to cool.” He held the bottle, looking at it. I put out the
-glasses.
-
-“I say. You might open it,” Brett suggested.
-
-“Yes, my dear. Now I’ll open it.”
-
-It was amazing champagne.
-
-“I say that is wine,” Brett held up her glass. “We ought to toast
-something. ‘Here’s to royalty.’”
-
-“This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. You don’t want to
-mix emotions up with a wine like that. You lose the taste.”
-
-Brett’s glass was empty.
-
-“You ought to write a book on wines, count,” I said.
-
-“Mr. Barnes,” answered the count, “all I want out of wines is to enjoy
-them.”
-
-“Let’s enjoy a little more of this,” Brett pushed her glass forward. The
-count poured very carefully. “There, my dear. Now you enjoy that slowly,
-and then you can get drunk.”
-
-“Drunk? Drunk?”
-
-“My dear, you are charming when you are drunk.”
-
-“Listen to the man.”
-
-“Mr. Barnes,” the count poured my glass full. “She is the only lady I
-have ever known who was as charming when she was drunk as when she was
-sober.”
-
-“You haven’t been around much, have you?”
-
-“Yes, my dear. I have been around very much. I have been around a very
-great deal.”
-
-“Drink your wine,” said Brett. “We’ve all been around. I dare say Jake
-here has seen as much as you have.”
-
-“My dear, I am sure Mr. Barnes has seen a lot. Don’t think I don’t think
-so, sir. I have seen a lot, too.”
-
-“Of course you have, my dear,” Brett said. “I was only ragging.”
-
-“I have been in seven wars and four revolutions,” the count said.
-
-“Soldiering?” Brett asked.
-
-“Sometimes, my dear. And I have got arrow wounds. Have you ever seen
-arrow wounds?”
-
-“Let’s have a look at them.”
-
-The count stood up, unbuttoned his vest, and opened his shirt. He pulled
-up the undershirt onto his chest and stood, his chest black, and big
-stomach muscles bulging under the light.
-
-“You see them?”
-
-Below the line where his ribs stopped were two raised white welts. “See
-on the back where they come out.” Above the small of the back were the
-same two scars, raised as thick as a finger.
-
-“I say. Those are something.”
-
-“Clean through.”
-
-The count was tucking in his shirt.
-
-“Where did you get those?” I asked.
-
-“In Abyssinia. When I was twenty-one years old.”
-
-“What were you doing?” asked Brett. “Were you in the army?”
-
-“I was on a business trip, my dear.”
-
-“I told you he was one of us. Didn’t I?” Brett turned to me. “I love
-you, count. You’re a darling.”
-
-“You make me very happy, my dear. But it isn’t true.”
-
-“Don’t be an ass.”
-
-“You see, Mr. Barnes, it is because I have lived very much that now I
-can enjoy everything so well. Don’t you find it like that?”
-
-“Yes. Absolutely.”
-
-“I know,” said the count. “That is the secret. You must get to know the
-values.”
-
-“Doesn’t anything ever happen to your values?” Brett asked.
-
-“No. Not any more.”
-
-“Never fall in love?”
-
-“Always,” said the count. “I am always in love.”
-
-“What does that do to your values?”
-
-“That, too, has got a place in my values.”
-
-“You haven’t any values. You’re dead, that’s all.”
-
-“No, my dear. You’re not right. I’m not dead at all.”
-
-We drank three bottles of the champagne and the count left the basket in
-my kitchen. We dined at a restaurant in the Bois. It was a good dinner.
-Food had an excellent place in the count’s values. So did wine. The
-count was in fine form during the meal. So was Brett. It was a good
-party.
-
-“Where would you like to go?” asked the count after dinner. We were the
-only people left in the restaurant. The two waiters were standing over
-against the door. They wanted to go home.
-
-“We might go up on the hill,” Brett said. “Haven’t we had a splendid
-party?”
-
-The count was beaming. He was very happy.
-
-“You are very nice people,” he said. He was smoking a cigar again. “Why
-don’t you get married, you two?”
-
-“We want to lead our own lives,” I said.
-
-“We have our careers,” Brett said. “Come on. Let’s get out of this.”
-
-“Have another brandy,” the count said.
-
-“Get it on the hill.”
-
-“No. Have it here where it is quiet.”
-
-“You and your quiet,” said Brett. “What is it men feel about quiet?”
-
-“We like it,” said the count. “Like you like noise, my dear.”
-
-“All right,” said Brett. “Let’s have one.”
-
-“Sommelier!” the count called.
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“What is the oldest brandy you have?”
-
-“Eighteen eleven, sir.”
-
-“Bring us a bottle.”
-
-“I say. Don’t be ostentatious. Call him off, Jake.”
-
-“Listen, my dear. I get more value for my money in old brandy than in
-any other antiquities.”
-
-“Got many antiquities?”
-
-“I got a houseful.”
-
-Finally we went up to Montmartre. Inside Zelli’s it was crowded, smoky,
-and noisy. The music hit you as you went in. Brett and I danced. It was
-so crowded we could barely move. The nigger drummer waved at Brett. We
-were caught in the jam, dancing in one place in front of him.
-
-“Hahre you?”
-
-“Great.”
-
-“Thaats good.”
-
-He was all teeth and lips.
-
-“He’s a great friend of mine,” Brett said. “Damn good drummer.”
-
-The music stopped and we started toward the table where the count sat.
-Then the music started again and we danced. I looked at the count. He
-was sitting at the table smoking a cigar. The music stopped again.
-
-“Let’s go over.”
-
-Brett started toward the table. The music started and again we danced,
-tight in the crowd.
-
-“You are a rotten dancer, Jake. Michael’s the best dancer I know.”
-
-“He’s splendid.”
-
-“He’s got his points.”
-
-“I like him,” I said. “I’m damned fond of him.”
-
-“I’m going to marry him,” Brett said. “Funny. I haven’t thought about
-him for a week.”
-
-“Don’t you write him?”
-
-“Not I. Never write letters.”
-
-“I’ll bet he writes to you.”
-
-“Rather. Damned good letters, too.”
-
-“When are you going to get married?”
-
-“How do I know? As soon as we can get the divorce. Michael’s trying to
-get his mother to put up for it.”
-
-“Could I help you?”
-
-“Don’t be an ass. Michael’s people have loads of money.”
-
-The music stopped. We walked over to the table. The count stood up.
-
-“Very nice,” he said. “You looked very, very nice.”
-
-“Don’t you dance, count?” I asked.
-
-“No. I’m too old.”
-
-“Oh, come off it,” Brett said.
-
-“My dear, I would do it if I would enjoy it. I enjoy to watch you
-dance.”
-
-“Splendid,” Brett said. “I’ll dance again for you some time. I say. What
-about your little friend, Zizi?”
-
-“Let me tell you. I support that boy, but I don’t want to have him
-around.”
-
-“He is rather hard.”
-
-“You know I think that boy’s got a future. But personally I don’t want
-him around.”
-
-“Jake’s rather the same way.”
-
-“He gives me the willys.”
-
-“Well,” the count shrugged his shoulders. “About his future you can’t
-ever tell. Anyhow, his father was a great friend of my father.”
-
-“Come on. Let’s dance,” Brett said.
-
-We danced. It was crowded and close.
-
-“Oh, darling,” Brett said, “I’m so miserable.”
-
-I had that feeling of going through something that has all happened
-before. “You were happy a minute ago.”
-
-The drummer shouted: “You can’t two time—”
-
-“It’s all gone.”
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“I don’t know. I just feel terribly.”
-
-“. . . . . .” the drummer chanted. Then turned to his sticks.
-
-“Want to go?”
-
-I had the feeling as in a nightmare of it all being something repeated,
-something I had been through and that now I must go through again.
-
-“. . . . . .” the drummer sang softly.
-
-“Let’s go,” said Brett. “You don’t mind.”
-
-“. . . . . .” the drummer shouted and grinned at Brett.
-
-“All right,” I said. We got out from the crowd. Brett went to the
-dressing-room.
-
-“Brett wants to go,” I said to the count. He nodded. “Does she? That’s
-fine. You take the car. I’m going to stay here for a while, Mr. Barnes.”
-
-We shook hands.
-
-“It was a wonderful time,” I said. “I wish you would let me get this.” I
-took a note out of my pocket.
-
-“Mr. Barnes, don’t be ridiculous,” the count said.
-
-Brett came over with her wrap on. She kissed the count and put her hand
-on his shoulder to keep him from standing up. As we went out the door I
-looked back and there were three girls at his table. We got into the big
-car. Brett gave the chauffeur the address of her hotel.
-
-“No, don’t come up,” she said at the hotel. She had rung and the door
-was unlatched.
-
-“Really?”
-
-“No. Please.”
-
-“Good night, Brett,” I said. “I’m sorry you feel rotten.”
-
-“Good night, Jake. Good night, darling. I won’t see you again.” We
-kissed standing at the door. She pushed me away. We kissed again. “Oh,
-don’t!” Brett said.
-
-She turned quickly and went into the hotel. The chauffeur drove me
-around to my flat. I gave him twenty francs and he touched his cap and
-said: “Good night, sir,” and drove off. I rang the bell. The door opened
-and I went up-stairs and went to bed.
-
-
-
-
- BOOK II
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 8
-
-
-I did not see Brett again until she came back from San Sebastian. One
-card came from her from there. It had a picture of the Concha, and said:
-“Darling. Very quiet and healthy. Love to all the chaps. BRETT.”
-
-Nor did I see Robert Cohn again. I heard Frances had left for England
-and I had a note from Cohn saying he was going out in the country for a
-couple of weeks, he did not know where, but that he wanted to hold me to
-the fishing-trip in Spain we had talked about last winter. I could reach
-him always, he wrote, through his bankers.
-
-Brett was gone, I was not bothered by Cohn’s troubles, I rather enjoyed
-not having to play tennis, there was plenty of work to do, I went often
-to the races, dined with friends, and put in some extra time at the
-office getting things ahead so I could leave it in charge of my
-secretary when Bill Gorton and I should shove off to Spain the end of
-June. Bill Gorton arrived, put up a couple of days at the flat and went
-off to Vienna. He was very cheerful and said the States were wonderful.
-New York was wonderful. There had been a grand theatrical season and a
-whole crop of great young light heavyweights. Any one of them was a good
-prospect to grow up, put on weight and trim Dempsey. Bill was very
-happy. He had made a lot of money on his last book, and was going to
-make a lot more. We had a good time while he was in Paris, and then he
-went off to Vienna. He was coming back in three weeks and we would leave
-for Spain to get in some fishing and go to the fiesta at Pamplona. He
-wrote that Vienna was wonderful. Then a card from Budapest: “Jake,
-Budapest is wonderful.” Then I got a wire: “Back on Monday.”
-
-Monday evening he turned up at the flat. I heard his taxi stop and went
-to the window and called to him; he waved and started up-stairs carrying
-his bags. I met him on the stairs, and took one of the bags.
-
-“Well,” I said, “I hear you had a wonderful trip.”
-
-“Wonderful,” he said. “Budapest is absolutely wonderful.”
-
-“How about Vienna?”
-
-“Not so good, Jake. Not so good. It seemed better than it was.”
-
-“How do you mean?” I was getting glasses and a siphon.
-
-“Tight, Jake. I was tight.”
-
-“That’s strange. Better have a drink.”
-
-Bill rubbed his forehead. “Remarkable thing,” he said. “Don’t know how
-it happened. Suddenly it happened.”
-
-“Last long?”
-
-“Four days, Jake. Lasted just four days.”
-
-“Where did you go?”
-
-“Don’t remember. Wrote you a post-card. Remember that perfectly.”
-
-“Do anything else?”
-
-“Not so sure. Possible.”
-
-“Go on. Tell me about it.”
-
-“Can’t remember. Tell you anything I could remember.”
-
-“Go on. Take that drink and remember.”
-
-“Might remember a little,” Bill said. “Remember something about a
-prize-fight. Enormous Vienna prize-fight. Had a nigger in it. Remember
-the nigger perfectly.”
-
-“Go on.”
-
-“Wonderful nigger. Looked like Tiger Flowers, only four times as big.
-All of a sudden everybody started to throw things. Not me. Nigger’d just
-knocked local boy down. Nigger put up his glove. Wanted to make a
-speech. Awful noble-looking nigger. Started to make a speech. Then local
-white boy hit him. Then he knocked white boy cold. Then everybody
-commenced to throw chairs. Nigger went home with us in our car. Couldn’t
-get his clothes. Wore my coat. Remember the whole thing now. Big
-sporting evening.”
-
-“What happened?”
-
-“Loaned the nigger some clothes and went around with him to try and get
-his money. Claimed nigger owed them money on account of wrecking hall.
-Wonder who translated? Was it me?”
-
-“Probably it wasn’t you.”
-
-“You’re right. Wasn’t me at all. Was another fellow. Think we called him
-the local Harvard man. Remember him now. Studying music.”
-
-“How’d you come out?”
-
-“Not so good, Jake. Injustice everywhere. Promoter claimed nigger
-promised let local boy stay. Claimed nigger violated contract. Can’t
-knock out Vienna boy in Vienna. ‘My God, Mister Gorton,’ said nigger, ‘I
-didn’t do nothing in there for forty minutes but try and let him stay.
-That white boy musta ruptured himself swinging at me. I never did hit
-him.’”
-
-“Did you get any money?”
-
-“No money, Jake. All we could get was nigger’s clothes. Somebody took
-his watch, too. Splendid nigger. Big mistake to have come to Vienna. Not
-so good, Jake. Not so good.”
-
-“What became of the nigger?”
-
-“Went back to Cologne. Lives there. Married. Got a family. Going to
-write me a letter and send me the money I loaned him. Wonderful nigger.
-Hope I gave him the right address.”
-
-“You probably did.”
-
-“Well, anyway, let’s eat,” said Bill. “Unless you want me to tell you
-some more travel stories.”
-
-“Go on.”
-
-“Let’s eat.”
-
-We went down-stairs and out onto the Boulevard St. Michel in the warm
-June evening.
-
-“Where will we go?”
-
-“Want to eat on the island?”
-
-“Sure.”
-
-We walked down the Boulevard. At the juncture of the Rue
-Denfert-Rochereau with the Boulevard is a statue of two men in flowing
-robes.
-
-“I know who they are.” Bill eyed the monument. “Gentlemen who invented
-pharmacy. Don’t try and fool me on Paris.”
-
-We went on.
-
-“Here’s a taxidermist’s,” Bill said. “Want to buy anything? Nice stuffed
-dog?”
-
-“Come on,” I said. “You’re pie-eyed.”
-
-“Pretty nice stuffed dogs,” Bill said. “Certainly brighten up your
-flat.”
-
-“Come on.”
-
-“Just one stuffed dog. I can take ’em or leave ’em alone. But listen,
-Jake. Just one stuffed dog.”
-
-“Come on.”
-
-“Mean everything in the world to you after you bought it. Simple
-exchange of values. You give them money. They give you a stuffed dog.”
-
-“We’ll get one on the way back.”
-
-“All right. Have it your own way. Road to hell paved with unbought
-stuffed dogs. Not my fault.”
-
-We went on.
-
-“How’d you feel that way about dogs so sudden?”
-
-“Always felt that way about dogs. Always been a great lover of stuffed
-animals.”
-
-We stopped and had a drink.
-
-“Certainly like to drink,” Bill said. “You ought to try it some times,
-Jake.”
-
-“You’re about a hundred and forty-four ahead of me.”
-
-“Ought not to daunt you. Never be daunted. Secret of my success. Never
-been daunted. Never been daunted in public.”
-
-“Where were you drinking?”
-
-“Stopped at the Crillon. George made me a couple of Jack Roses. George’s
-a great man. Know the secret of his success? Never been daunted.”
-
-“You’ll be daunted after about three more pernods.”
-
-“Not in public. If I begin to feel daunted I’ll go off by myself. I’m
-like a cat that way.”
-
-“When did you see Harvey Stone?”
-
-“At the Crillon. Harvey was just a little daunted. Hadn’t eaten for
-three days. Doesn’t eat any more. Just goes off like a cat. Pretty sad.”
-
-“He’s all right.”
-
-“Splendid. Wish he wouldn’t keep going off like a cat, though. Makes me
-nervous.”
-
-“What’ll we do to-night?”
-
-“Doesn’t make any difference. Only let’s not get daunted. Suppose they
-got any hard-boiled eggs here? If they had hard-boiled eggs here we
-wouldn’t have to go all the way down to the island to eat.”
-
-“Nix,” I said. “We’re going to have a regular meal.”
-
-“Just a suggestion,” said Bill. “Want to start now?”
-
-“Come on.”
-
-We started on again down the Boulevard. A horse-cab passed us. Bill
-looked at it.
-
-“See that horse-cab? Going to have that horse-cab stuffed for you for
-Christmas. Going to give all my friends stuffed animals. I’m a
-nature-writer.”
-
-A taxi passed, some one in it waved, then banged for the driver to stop.
-The taxi backed up to the curb. In it was Brett.
-
-“Beautiful lady,” said Bill. “Going to kidnap us.”
-
-“Hullo!” Brett said. “Hullo!”
-
-“This is Bill Gorton. Lady Ashley.”
-
-Brett smiled at Bill. “I say I’m just back. Haven’t bathed even. Michael
-comes in to-night.”
-
-“Good. Come on and eat with us, and we’ll all go to meet him.”
-
-“Must clean myself.”
-
-“Oh, rot! Come on.”
-
-“Must bathe. He doesn’t get in till nine.”
-
-“Come and have a drink, then, before you bathe.”
-
-“Might do that. Now you’re not talking rot.”
-
-We got in the taxi. The driver looked around.
-
-“Stop at the nearest bistro,” I said.
-
-“We might as well go to the Closerie,” Brett said. “I can’t drink these
-rotten brandies.”
-
-“Closerie des Lilas.”
-
-Brett turned to Bill.
-
-“Have you been in this pestilential city long?”
-
-“Just got in to-day from Budapest.”
-
-“How was Budapest?”
-
-“Wonderful. Budapest was wonderful.”
-
-“Ask him about Vienna.”
-
-“Vienna,” said Bill, “is a strange city.”
-
-“Very much like Paris,” Brett smiled at him, wrinkling the corners of
-her eyes.
-
-“Exactly,” Bill said. “Very much like Paris at this moment.”
-
-“You _have_ a good start.”
-
-Sitting out on the terraces of the Lilas Brett ordered a whiskey and
-soda, I took one, too, and Bill took another pernod.
-
-“How are you, Jake?”
-
-“Great,” I said. “I’ve had a good time.”
-
-Brett looked at me. “I was a fool to go away,” she said. “One’s an ass
-to leave Paris.”
-
-“Did you have a good time?”
-
-“Oh, all right. Interesting. Not frightfully amusing.”
-
-“See anybody?”
-
-“No, hardly anybody. I never went out.”
-
-“Didn’t you swim?”
-
-“No. Didn’t do a thing.”
-
-“Sounds like Vienna,” Bill said.
-
-Brett wrinkled up the corners of her eyes at him.
-
-“So that’s the way it was in Vienna.”
-
-“It was like everything in Vienna.”
-
-Brett smiled at him again.
-
-“You’ve a nice friend, Jake.”
-
-“He’s all right,” I said. “He’s a taxidermist.”
-
-“That was in another country,” Bill said. “And besides all the animals
-were dead.”
-
-“One more,” Brett said, “and I must run. Do send the waiter for a taxi.”
-
-“There’s a line of them. Right out in front.”
-
-“Good.”
-
-We had the drink and put Brett into her taxi.
-
-“Mind you’re at the Select around ten. Make him come. Michael will be
-there.”
-
-“We’ll be there,” Bill said. The taxi started and Brett waved.
-
-“Quite a girl,” Bill said. “She’s damned nice. Who’s Michael?”
-
-“The man she’s going to marry.”
-
-“Well, well,” Bill said. “That’s always just the stage I meet anybody.
-What’ll I send them? Think they’d like a couple of stuffed race-horses?”
-
-“We better eat.”
-
-“Is she really Lady something or other?” Bill asked in the taxi on our
-way down to the Ile Saint Louis.
-
-“Oh, yes. In the stud-book and everything.”
-
-“Well, well.”
-
-We ate dinner at Madame Lecomte’s restaurant on the far side of the
-island. It was crowded with Americans and we had to stand up and wait
-for a place. Some one had put it in the American Women’s Club list as a
-quaint restaurant on the Paris quais as yet untouched by Americans, so
-we had to wait forty-five minutes for a table. Bill had eaten at the
-restaurant in 1918, and right after the armistice, and Madame Lecomte
-made a great fuss over seeing him.
-
-“Doesn’t get us a table, though,” Bill said. “Grand woman, though.”
-
-We had a good meal, a roast chicken, new green beans, mashed potatoes, a
-salad, and some apple-pie and cheese.
-
-“You’ve got the world here all right,” Bill said to Madame Lecomte. She
-raised her hand. “Oh, my God!”
-
-“You’ll be rich.”
-
-“I hope so.”
-
-After the coffee and a _fine_ we got the bill, chalked up the same as
-ever on a slate, that was doubtless one of the “quaint” features, paid
-it, shook hands, and went out.
-
-“You never come here any more, Monsieur Barnes,” Madame Lecomte said.
-
-“Too many compatriots.”
-
-“Come at lunch-time. It’s not crowded then.”
-
-“Good. I’ll be down soon.”
-
-We walked along under the trees that grew out over the river on the Quai
-d’Orléans side of the island. Across the river were the broken walls of
-old houses that were being torn down.
-
-“They’re going to cut a street through.”
-
-“They would,” Bill said.
-
-We walked on and circled the island. The river was dark and a bateau
-mouche went by, all bright with lights, going fast and quiet up and out
-of sight under the bridge. Down the river was Notre Dame squatting
-against the night sky. We crossed to the left bank of the Seine by the
-wooden foot-bridge from the Quai de Bethune, and stopped on the bridge
-and looked down the river at Notre Dame. Standing on the bridge the
-island looked dark, the houses were high against the sky, and the trees
-were shadows.
-
-“It’s pretty grand,” Bill said. “God, I love to get back.”
-
-We leaned on the wooden rail of the bridge and looked up the river to
-the lights of the big bridges. Below the water was smooth and black. It
-made no sound against the piles of the bridge. A man and a girl passed
-us. They were walking with their arms around each other.
-
-We crossed the bridge and walked up the Rue du Cardinal Lemoine. It was
-steep walking, and we went all the way up to the Place Contrescarpe. The
-arc-light shone through the leaves of the trees in the square, and
-underneath the trees was an S bus ready to start. Music came out of the
-door of the Negre Joyeux. Through the window of the Café Aux Amateurs I
-saw the long zinc bar. Outside on the terrace working people were
-drinking. In the open kitchen of the Amateurs a girl was cooking
-potato-chips in oil. There was an iron pot of stew. The girl ladled some
-onto a plate for an old man who stood holding a bottle of red wine in
-one hand.
-
-“Want to have a drink?”
-
-“No,” said Bill. “I don’t need it.”
-
-We turned to the right off the Place Contrescarpe, walking along smooth
-narrow streets with high old houses on both sides. Some of the houses
-jutted out toward the street. Others were cut back. We came onto the Rue
-du Pot de Fer and followed it along until it brought us to the rigid
-north and south of the Rue Saint Jacques and then walked south, past Val
-de Grâce, set back behind the courtyard and the iron fence, to the
-Boulevard du Port Royal.
-
-“What do you want to do?” I asked. “Go up to the café and see Brett and
-Mike?”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-We walked along Port Royal until it became Montparnasse, and then on
-past the Lilas, Lavigne’s, and all the little cafés, Damoy’s, crossed
-the street to the Rotonde, past its lights and tables to the Select.
-
-Michael came toward us from the tables. He was tanned and
-healthy-looking.
-
-“Hel-lo, Jake,” he said. “Hel-lo! Hel-lo! How are you, old lad?”
-
-“You look very fit, Mike.”
-
-“Oh, I am. I’m frightfully fit. I’ve done nothing but walk. Walk all day
-long. One drink a day with my mother at tea.”
-
-Bill had gone into the bar. He was standing talking with Brett, who was
-sitting on a high stool, her legs crossed. She had no stockings on.
-
-“It’s good to see you, Jake,” Michael said. “I’m a little tight you
-know. Amazing, isn’t it? Did you see my nose?”
-
-There was a patch of dried blood on the bridge of his nose.
-
-“An old lady’s bags did that,” Mike said. “I reached up to help her with
-them and they fell on me.”
-
-Brett gestured at him from the bar with her cigarette-holder and
-wrinkled the corners of her eyes.
-
-“An old lady,” said Mike. “Her bags _fell_ on me. Let’s go in and see
-Brett. I say, she is a piece. You _are_ a lovely lady, Brett. Where did
-you get that hat?”
-
-“Chap bought it for me. Don’t you like it?”
-
-“It’s a dreadful hat. Do get a good hat.”
-
-“Oh, we’ve so much money now,” Brett said. “I say, haven’t you met Bill
-yet? You _are_ a lovely host, Jake.”
-
-She turned to Mike. “This is Bill Gorton. This drunkard is Mike
-Campbell. Mr. Campbell is an undischarged bankrupt.”
-
-“Aren’t I, though? You know I met my ex-partner yesterday in London.
-Chap who did me in.”
-
-“What did he say?”
-
-“Bought me a drink. I thought I might as well take it. I say, Brett, you
-_are_ a lovely piece. Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”
-
-“Beautiful. With this nose?”
-
-“It’s a lovely nose. Go on, point it at me. Isn’t she a lovely piece?”
-
-“Couldn’t we have kept the man in Scotland?”
-
-“I say, Brett, let’s turn in early.”
-
-“Don’t be indecent, Michael. Remember there are ladies at this bar.”
-
-“Isn’t she a lovely piece? Don’t you think so, Jake?”
-
-“There’s a fight to-night,” Bill said. “Like to go?”
-
-“Fight,” said Mike. “Who’s fighting?”
-
-“Ledoux and somebody.”
-
-“He’s very good, Ledoux,” Mike said. “I’d like to see it, rather”—he
-was making an effort to pull himself together—“but I can’t go. I had a
-date with this thing here. I say, Brett, do get a new hat.”
-
-Brett pulled the felt hat down far over one eye and smiled out from
-under it. “You two run along to the fight. I’ll have to be taking Mr.
-Campbell home directly.”
-
-“I’m not tight,” Mike said. “Perhaps just a little. I say, Brett, you
-are a lovely piece.”
-
-“Go on to the fight,” Brett said. “Mr. Campbell’s getting difficult.
-What are these outbursts of affection, Michael?”
-
-“I say, you are a lovely piece.”
-
-We said good night. “I’m sorry I can’t go,” Mike said. Brett laughed. I
-looked back from the door. Mike had one hand on the bar and was leaning
-toward Brett, talking. Brett was looking at him quite coolly, but the
-corners of her eyes were smiling.
-
-Outside on the pavement I said: “Do you want to go to the fight?”
-
-“Sure,” said Bill. “If we don’t have to walk.”
-
-“Mike was pretty excited about his girl friend,” I said in the taxi.
-
-“Well,” said Bill. “You can’t blame him such a hell of a lot.”
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 9
-
-
-The Ledoux-Kid Francis fight was the night of the 20th of June. It was a
-good fight. The morning after the fight I had a letter from Robert Cohn,
-written from Hendaye. He was having a very quiet time, he said, bathing,
-playing some golf and much bridge. Hendaye had a splendid beach, but he
-was anxious to start on the fishing-trip. When would I be down? If I
-would buy him a double-tapered line he would pay me when I came down.
-
-That same morning I wrote Cohn from the office that Bill and I would
-leave Paris on the 25th unless I wired him otherwise, and would meet him
-at Bayonne, where we could get a bus over the mountains to Pamplona. The
-same evening about seven o’clock I stopped in at the Select to see
-Michael and Brett. They were not there, and I went over to the Dingo.
-They were inside sitting at the bar.
-
-“Hello, darling.” Brett put out her hand.
-
-“Hello, Jake,” Mike said. “I understand I was tight last night.”
-
-“Weren’t you, though,” Brett said. “Disgraceful business.”
-
-“Look,” said Mike, “when do you go down to Spain? Would you mind if we
-came down with you?”
-
-“It would be grand.”
-
-“You wouldn’t mind, really? I’ve been at Pamplona, you know. Brett’s mad
-to go. You’re sure we wouldn’t just be a bloody nuisance?”
-
-“Don’t talk like a fool.”
-
-“I’m a little tight, you know. I wouldn’t ask you like this if I
-weren’t. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
-
-“Oh, shut up, Michael,” Brett said. “How can the man say he’d mind now?
-I’ll ask him later.”
-
-“But you don’t mind, do you?”
-
-“Don’t ask that again unless you want to make me sore. Bill and I go
-down on the morning of the 25th.”
-
-“By the way, where is Bill?” Brett asked.
-
-“He’s out at Chantilly dining with some people.”
-
-“He’s a good chap.”
-
-“Splendid chap,” said Mike. “He is, you know.”
-
-“You don’t remember him,” Brett said.
-
-“I do. Remember him perfectly. Look, Jake, we’ll come down the night of
-the 25th. Brett can’t get up in the morning.”
-
-“Indeed not!”
-
-“If our money comes and you’re sure you don’t mind.”
-
-“It will come, all right. I’ll see to that.”
-
-“Tell me what tackle to send for.”
-
-“Get two or three rods with reels, and lines, and some flies.”
-
-“I won’t fish,” Brett put in.
-
-“Get two rods, then, and Bill won’t have to buy one.”
-
-“Right,” said Mike. “I’ll send a wire to the keeper.”
-
-“Won’t it be splendid,” Brett said. “Spain! We _will_ have fun.”
-
-“The 25th. When is that?”
-
-“Saturday.”
-
-“We _will_ have to get ready.”
-
-“I say,” said Mike, “I’m going to the barber’s.”
-
-“I must bathe,” said Brett. “Walk up to the hotel with me, Jake. Be a
-good chap.”
-
-“We _have_ got the loveliest hotel,” Mike said. “I think it’s a
-brothel!”
-
-“We left our bags here at the Dingo when we got in, and they asked us at
-this hotel if we wanted a room for the afternoon only. Seemed
-frightfully pleased we were going to stay all night.”
-
-“_I_ believe it’s a brothel,” Mike said. “And _I_ should know.”
-
-“Oh, shut it and go and get your hair cut.”
-
-Mike went out. Brett and I sat on at the bar.
-
-“Have another?”
-
-“Might.”
-
-“I needed that,” Brett said.
-
-We walked up the Rue Delambre.
-
-“I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back,” Brett said.
-
-“No.”
-
-“How _are_ you, Jake?”
-
-“Fine.”
-
-Brett looked at me. “I say,” she said, “is Robert Cohn going on this
-trip?”
-
-“Yes. Why?”
-
-“Don’t you think it will be a bit rough on him?”
-
-“Why should it?”
-
-“Who did you think I went down to San Sebastian with?”
-
-“Congratulations,” I said.
-
-We walked along.
-
-“What did you say that for?”
-
-“I don’t know. What would you like me to say?”
-
-We walked along and turned a corner.
-
-“He behaved rather well, too. He gets a little dull.”
-
-“Does he?”
-
-“I rather thought it would be good for him.”
-
-“You might take up social service.”
-
-“Don’t be nasty.”
-
-“I won’t.”
-
-“Didn’t you really know?”
-
-“No,” I said. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”
-
-“Do you think it will be too rough on him?”
-
-“That’s up to him,” I said. “Tell him you’re coming. He can always not
-come.”
-
-“I’ll write him and give him a chance to pull out of it.”
-
-I did not see Brett again until the night of the 24th of June.
-
-“Did you hear from Cohn?”
-
-“Rather. He’s keen about it.”
-
-“My God!”
-
-“I thought it was rather odd myself.”
-
-“Says he can’t wait to see me.”
-
-“Does he think you’re coming alone?”
-
-“No. I told him we were all coming down together. Michael and all.”
-
-“He’s wonderful.”
-
-“Isn’t he?”
-
-They expected their money the next day. We arranged to meet at Pamplona.
-They would go directly to San Sebastian and take the train from there.
-We would all meet at the Montoya in Pamplona. If they did not turn up on
-Monday at the latest we would go on ahead up to Burguete in the
-mountains, to start fishing. There was a bus to Burguete. I wrote out an
-itinerary so they could follow us.
-
-Bill and I took the morning train from the Gare d’Orsay. It was a lovely
-day, not too hot, and the country was beautiful from the start. We went
-back into the diner and had breakfast. Leaving the dining-car I asked
-the conductor for tickets for the first service.
-
-“Nothing until the fifth.”
-
-“What’s this?”
-
-There were never more than two servings of lunch on that train, and
-always plenty of places for both of them.
-
-“They’re all reserved,” the dining-car conductor said. “There will be a
-fifth service at three-thirty.”
-
-“This is serious,” I said to Bill.
-
-“Give him ten francs.”
-
-“Here,” I said. “We want to eat in the first service.”
-
-The conductor put the ten francs in his pocket.
-
-“Thank you,” he said. “I would advise you gentlemen to get some
-sandwiches. All the places for the first four services were reserved at
-the office of the company.”
-
-“You’ll go a long way, brother,” Bill said to him in English. “I suppose
-if I’d given you five francs you would have advised us to jump off the
-train.”
-
-“_Comment?_”
-
-“Go to hell!” said Bill. “Get the sandwiches made and a bottle of wine.
-You tell him, Jake.”
-
-“And send it up to the next car.” I described where we were.
-
-In our compartment were a man and his wife and their young son.
-
-“I suppose you’re Americans, aren’t you?” the man asked. “Having a good
-trip?”
-
-“Wonderful,” said Bill.
-
-“That’s what you want to do. Travel while you’re young. Mother and I
-always wanted to get over, but we had to wait a while.”
-
-“You could have come over ten years ago, if you’d wanted to,” the wife
-said. “What you always said was: ‘See America first!’ I will say we’ve
-seen a good deal, take it one way and another.”
-
-“Say, there’s plenty of Americans on this train,” the husband said.
-“They’ve got seven cars of them from Dayton, Ohio. They’ve been on a
-pilgrimage to Rome, and now they’re going down to Biarritz and Lourdes.”
-
-“So, that’s what they are. Pilgrims. Goddam Puritans,” Bill said.
-
-“What part of the States you boys from?”
-
-“Kansas City,” I said. “He’s from Chicago.”
-
-“You both going to Biarritz?”
-
-“No. We’re going fishing in Spain.”
-
-“Well, I never cared for it, myself. There’s plenty that do out where I
-come from, though. We got some of the best fishing in the State of
-Montana. I’ve been out with the boys, but I never cared for it any.”
-
-“Mighty little fishing you did on them trips,” his wife said.
-
-He winked at us.
-
-“You know how the ladies are. If there’s a jug goes along, or a case of
-beer, they think it’s hell and damnation.”
-
-“That’s the way men are,” his wife said to us. She smoothed her
-comfortable lap. “I voted against prohibition to please him, and because
-I like a little beer in the house, and then he talks that way. It’s a
-wonder they ever find any one to marry them.”
-
-“Say,” said Bill, “do you know that gang of Pilgrim Fathers have
-cornered the dining-car until half past three this afternoon?”
-
-“How do you mean? They can’t do a thing like that.”
-
-“You try and get seats.”
-
-“Well, mother, it looks as though we better go back and get another
-breakfast.”
-
-She stood up and straightened her dress.
-
-“Will you boys keep an eye on our things? Come on, Hubert.”
-
-They all three went up to the wagon restaurant. A little while after
-they were gone a steward went through announcing the first service, and
-pilgrims, with their priests, commenced filing down the corridor. Our
-friend and his family did not come back. A waiter passed in the corridor
-with our sandwiches and the bottle of Chablis, and we called him in.
-
-“You’re going to work to-day,” I said.
-
-He nodded his head. “They start now, at ten-thirty.”
-
-“When do we eat?”
-
-“Huh! When do I eat?”
-
-He left two glasses for the bottle, and we paid him for the sandwiches
-and tipped him.
-
-“I’ll get the plates,” he said, “or bring them with you.”
-
-We ate the sandwiches and drank the Chablis and watched the country out
-of the window. The grain was just beginning to ripen and the fields were
-full of poppies. The pastureland was green, and there were fine trees,
-and sometimes big rivers and chateaux off in the trees.
-
-At Tours we got off and bought another bottle of wine, and when we got
-back in the compartment the gentleman from Montana and his wife and his
-son, Hubert, were sitting comfortably.
-
-“Is there good swimming in Biarritz?” asked Hubert.
-
-“That boy’s just crazy till he can get in the water,” his mother said.
-“It’s pretty hard on youngsters travelling.”
-
-“There’s good swimming,” I said. “But it’s dangerous when it’s rough.”
-
-“Did you get a meal?” Bill asked.
-
-“We sure did. We set right there when they started to come in, and they
-must have just thought we were in the party. One of the waiters said
-something to us in French, and then they just sent three of them back.”
-
-“They thought we were snappers, all right,” the man said. “It certainly
-shows you the power of the Catholic Church. It’s a pity you boys ain’t
-Catholics. You could get a meal, then, all right.”
-
-“I am,” I said. “That’s what makes me so sore.”
-
-Finally at a quarter past four we had lunch. Bill had been rather
-difficult at the last. He buttonholed a priest who was coming back with
-one of the returning streams of pilgrims.
-
-“When do us Protestants get a chance to eat, father?”
-
-“I don’t know anything about it. Haven’t you got tickets?”
-
-“It’s enough to make a man join the Klan,” Bill said. The priest looked
-back at him.
-
-Inside the dining-car the waiters served the fifth successive table
-d’hôte meal. The waiter who served us was soaked through. His white
-jacket was purple under the arms.
-
-“He must drink a lot of wine.”
-
-“Or wear purple undershirts.”
-
-“Let’s ask him.”
-
-“No. He’s too tired.”
-
-The train stopped for half an hour at Bordeaux and we went out through
-the station for a little walk. There was not time to get in to the town.
-Afterward we passed through the Landes and watched the sun set. There
-were wide fire-gaps cut through the pines, and you could look up them
-like avenues and see wooded hills way off. About seven-thirty we had
-dinner and watched the country through the open window in the diner. It
-was all sandy pine country full of heather. There were little clearings
-with houses in them, and once in a while we passed a sawmill. It got
-dark and we could feel the country hot and sandy and dark outside of the
-window, and about nine o’clock we got into Bayonne. The man and his wife
-and Hubert all shook hands with us. They were going on to LaNegresse to
-change for Biarritz.
-
-“Well, I hope you have lots of luck,” he said.
-
-“Be careful about those bull-fights.”
-
-“Maybe we’ll see you at Biarritz,” Hubert said.
-
-We got off with our bags and rod-cases and passed through the dark
-station and out to the lights and the line of cabs and hotel buses.
-There, standing with the hotel runners, was Robert Cohn. He did not see
-us at first. Then he started forward.
-
-“Hello, Jake. Have a good trip?”
-
-“Fine,” I said. “This is Bill Gorton.”
-
-“How are you?”
-
-“Come on,” said Robert. “I’ve got a cab.” He was a little near-sighted.
-I had never noticed it before. He was looking at Bill, trying to make
-him out. He was shy, too.
-
-“We’ll go up to my hotel. It’s all right. It’s quite nice.”
-
-We got into the cab, and the cabman put the bags up on the seat beside
-him and climbed up and cracked his whip, and we drove over the dark
-bridge and into the town.
-
-“I’m awfully glad to meet you,” Robert said to Bill. “I’ve heard so much
-about you from Jake and I’ve read your books. Did you get my line,
-Jake?”
-
-The cab stopped in front of the hotel and we all got out and went in. It
-was a nice hotel, and the people at the desk were very cheerful, and we
-each had a good small room.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 10
-
-
-In the morning it was bright, and they were sprinkling the streets of
-the town, and we all had breakfast in a café. Bayonne is a nice town. It
-is like a very clean Spanish town and it is on a big river. Already, so
-early in the morning, it was very hot on the bridge across the river. We
-walked out on the bridge and then took a walk through the town.
-
-I was not at all sure Mike’s rods would come from Scotland in time, so
-we hunted a tackle store and finally bought a rod for Bill up-stairs
-over a drygoods store. The man who sold the tackle was out, and we had
-to wait for him to come back. Finally he came in, and we bought a pretty
-good rod cheap, and two landing-nets.
-
-We went out into the street again and took a look at the cathedral. Cohn
-made some remark about it being a very good example of something or
-other, I forget what. It seemed like a nice cathedral, nice and dim,
-like Spanish churches. Then we went up past the old fort and out to the
-local Syndicat d’Initiative office, where the bus was supposed to start
-from. There they told us the bus service did not start until the 1st of
-July. We found out at the tourist office what we ought to pay for a
-motor-car to Pamplona and hired one at a big garage just around the
-corner from the Municipal Theatre for four hundred francs. The car was
-to pick us up at the hotel in forty minutes, and we stopped at the café
-on the square where we had eaten breakfast, and had a beer. It was hot,
-but the town had a cool, fresh, early-morning smell and it was pleasant
-sitting in the café. A breeze started to blow, and you could feel that
-the air came from the sea. There were pigeons out in the square, and the
-houses were a yellow, sun-baked color, and I did not want to leave the
-café. But we had to go to the hotel to get our bags packed and pay the
-bill. We paid for the beers, we matched and I think Cohn paid, and went
-up to the hotel. It was only sixteen francs apiece for Bill and me, with
-ten per cent added for the service, and we had the bags sent down and
-waited for Robert Cohn. While we were waiting I saw a cockroach on the
-parquet floor that must have been at least three inches long. I pointed
-him out to Bill and then put my shoe on him. We agreed he must have just
-come in from the garden. It was really an awfully clean hotel.
-
-Cohn came down, finally, and we all went out to the car. It was a big,
-closed car, with a driver in a white duster with blue collar and cuffs,
-and we had him put the back of the car down. He piled in the bags and we
-started off up the street and out of the town. We passed some lovely
-gardens and had a good look back at the town, and then we were out in
-the country, green and rolling, and the road climbing all the time. We
-passed lots of Basques with oxen, or cattle, hauling carts along the
-road, and nice farmhouses, low roofs, and all white-plastered. In the
-Basque country the land all looks very rich and green and the houses and
-villages look well-off and clean. Every village had a pelota court and
-on some of them kids were playing in the hot sun. There were signs on
-the walls of the churches saying it was forbidden to play pelota against
-them, and the houses in the villages had red tiled roofs, and then the
-road turned off and commenced to climb and we were going way up close
-along a hillside, with a valley below and hills stretched off back
-toward the sea. You couldn’t see the sea. It was too far away. You could
-see only hills and more hills, and you knew where the sea was.
-
-We crossed the Spanish frontier. There was a little stream and a bridge,
-and Spanish carabineers, with patent-leather Bonaparte hats, and short
-guns on their backs, on one side, and on the other fat Frenchmen in
-kepis and mustaches. They only opened one bag and took the passports in
-and looked at them. There was a general store and inn on each side of
-the line. The chauffeur had to go in and fill out some papers about the
-car and we got out and went over to the stream to see if there were any
-trout. Bill tried to talk some Spanish to one of the carabineers, but it
-did not go very well. Robert Cohn asked, pointing with his finger, if
-there were any trout in the stream, and the carabineer said yes, but not
-many.
-
-I asked him if he ever fished, and he said no, that he didn’t care for
-it.
-
-Just then an old man with long, sunburned hair and beard, and clothes
-that looked as though they were made of gunny-sacking, came striding up
-to the bridge. He was carrying a long staff, and he had a kid slung on
-his back, tied by the four legs, the head hanging down.
-
-The carabineer waved him back with his sword. The man turned without
-saying anything, and started back up the white road into Spain.
-
-“What’s the matter with the old one?” I asked.
-
-“He hasn’t got any passport.”
-
-I offered the guard a cigarette. He took it and thanked me.
-
-“What will he do?” I asked.
-
-The guard spat in the dust.
-
-“Oh, he’ll just wade across the stream.”
-
-“Do you have much smuggling?”
-
-“Oh,” he said, “they go through.”
-
-The chauffeur came out, folding up the papers and putting them in the
-inside pocket of his coat. We all got in the car and it started up the
-white dusty road into Spain. For a while the country was much as it had
-been; then, climbing all the time, we crossed the top of a Col, the road
-winding back and forth on itself, and then it was really Spain. There
-were long brown mountains and a few pines and far-off forests of
-beech-trees on some of the mountainsides. The road went along the summit
-of the Col and then dropped down, and the driver had to honk, and slow
-up, and turn out to avoid running into two donkeys that were sleeping in
-the road. We came down out of the mountains and through an oak forest,
-and there were white cattle grazing in the forest. Down below there were
-grassy plains and clear streams, and then we crossed a stream and went
-through a gloomy little village, and started to climb again. We climbed
-up and up and crossed another high Col and turned along it, and the road
-ran down to the right, and we saw a whole new range of mountains off to
-the south, all brown and baked-looking and furrowed in strange shapes.
-
-After a while we came out of the mountains, and there were trees along
-both sides of the road, and a stream and ripe fields of grain, and the
-road went on, very white and straight ahead, and then lifted to a little
-rise, and off on the left was a hill with an old castle, with buildings
-close around it and a field of grain going right up to the walls and
-shifting in the wind. I was up in front with the driver and I turned
-around. Robert Cohn was asleep, but Bill looked and nodded his head.
-Then we crossed a wide plain, and there was a big river off on the right
-shining in the sun from between the line of trees, and away off you
-could see the plateau of Pamplona rising out of the plain, and the walls
-of the city, and the great brown cathedral, and the broken skyline of
-the other churches. In back of the plateau were the mountains, and every
-way you looked there were other mountains, and ahead the road stretched
-out white across the plain going toward Pamplona.
-
-We came into the town on the other side of the plateau, the road
-slanting up steeply and dustily with shade-trees on both sides, and then
-levelling out through the new part of town they are building up outside
-the old walls. We passed the bull-ring, high and white and
-concrete-looking in the sun, and then came into the big square by a side
-street and stopped in front of the Hotel Montoya.
-
-The driver helped us down with the bags. There was a crowd of kids
-watching the car, and the square was hot, and the trees were green, and
-the flags hung on their staffs, and it was good to get out of the sun
-and under the shade of the arcade that runs all the way around the
-square. Montoya was glad to see us, and shook hands and gave us good
-rooms looking out on the square, and then we washed and cleaned up and
-went down-stairs in the dining-room for lunch. The driver stayed for
-lunch, too, and afterward we paid him and he started back to Bayonne.
-
-There are two dining-rooms in the Montoya. One is up-stairs on the
-second floor and looks out on the square. The other is down one floor
-below the level of the square and has a door that opens on the back
-street that the bulls pass along when they run through the streets early
-in the morning on their way to the ring. It is always cool in the
-down-stairs dining-room and we had a very good lunch. The first meal in
-Spain was always a shock with the hors d’œuvres, an egg course, two meat
-courses, vegetables, salad, and dessert and fruit. You have to drink
-plenty of wine to get it all down. Robert Cohn tried to say he did not
-want any of the second meat course, but we would not interpret for him,
-and so the waitress brought him something else as a replacement, a plate
-of cold meats, I think. Cohn had been rather nervous ever since we had
-met at Bayonne. He did not know whether we knew Brett had been with him
-at San Sebastian, and it made him rather awkward.
-
-“Well,” I said, “Brett and Mike ought to get in to-night.”
-
-“I’m not sure they’ll come,” Cohn said.
-
-“Why not?” Bill said. “Of course they’ll come.”
-
-“They’re always late,” I said.
-
-“I rather think they’re not coming,” Robert Cohn said.
-
-He said it with an air of superior knowledge that irritated both of us.
-
-“I’ll bet you fifty pesetas they’re here to-night,” Bill said. He always
-bets when he is angered, and so he usually bets foolishly.
-
-“I’ll take it,” Cohn said. “Good. You remember it, Jake. Fifty pesetas.”
-
-“I’ll remember it myself,” Bill said. I saw he was angry and wanted to
-smooth him down.
-
-“It’s a sure thing they’ll come,” I said. “But maybe not to-night.”
-
-“Want to call it off?” Cohn asked.
-
-“No. Why should I? Make it a hundred if you like.”
-
-“All right. I’ll take that.”
-
-“That’s enough,” I said. “Or you’ll have to make a book and give me some
-of it.”
-
-“I’m satisfied,” Cohn said. He smiled. “You’ll probably win it back at
-bridge, anyway.”
-
-“You haven’t got it yet,” Bill said.
-
-We went out to walk around under the arcade to the Café Iruña for
-coffee. Cohn said he was going over and get a shave.
-
-“Say,” Bill said to me, “have I got any chance on that bet?”
-
-“You’ve got a rotten chance. They’ve never been on time anywhere. If
-their money doesn’t come it’s a cinch they won’t get in to-night.”
-
-“I was sorry as soon as I opened my mouth. But I had to call him. He’s
-all right, I guess, but where does he get this inside stuff? Mike and
-Brett fixed it up with us about coming down here.”
-
-I saw Cohn coming over across the square.
-
-“Here he comes.”
-
-“Well, let him not get superior and Jewish.”
-
-“The barber shop’s closed,” Cohn said. “It’s not open till four.”
-
-We had coffee at the Iruña, sitting in comfortable wicker chairs looking
-out from the cool of the arcade at the big square. After a while Bill
-went to write some letters and Cohn went over to the barber-shop. It was
-still closed, so he decided to go up to the hotel and get a bath, and I
-sat out in front of the café and then went for a walk in the town. It
-was very hot, but I kept on the shady side of the streets and went
-through the market and had a good time seeing the town again. I went to
-the Ayuntamiento and found the old gentleman who subscribes for the
-bull-fight tickets for me every year, and he had gotten the money I sent
-him from Paris and renewed my subscriptions, so that was all set. He was
-the archivist, and all the archives of the town were in his office. That
-has nothing to do with the story. Anyway, his office had a green baize
-door and a big wooden door, and when I went out I left him sitting among
-the archives that covered all the walls, and I shut both the doors, and
-as I went out of the building into the street the porter stopped me to
-brush off my coat.
-
-“You must have been in a motor-car,” he said.
-
-The back of the collar and the upper part of the shoulders were gray
-with dust.
-
-“From Bayonne.”
-
-“Well, well,” he said. “I knew you were in a motor-car from the way the
-dust was.” So I gave him two copper coins.
-
-At the end of the street I saw the cathedral and walked up toward it.
-The first time I ever saw it I thought the façade was ugly but I liked
-it now. I went inside. It was dim and dark and the pillars went high up,
-and there were people praying, and it smelt of incense, and there were
-some wonderful big windows. I knelt and started to pray and prayed for
-everybody I thought of, Brett and Mike and Bill and Robert Cohn and
-myself, and all the bull-fighters, separately for the ones I liked, and
-lumping all the rest, then I prayed for myself again, and while I was
-praying for myself I found I was getting sleepy, so I prayed that the
-bull-fights would be good, and that it would be a fine fiesta, and that
-we would get some fishing. I wondered if there was anything else I might
-pray for, and I thought I would like to have some money, so I prayed
-that I would make a lot of money, and then I started to think how I
-would make it, and thinking of making money reminded me of the count,
-and I started wondering about where he was, and regretting I hadn’t seen
-him since that night in Montmartre, and about something funny Brett told
-me about him, and as all the time I was kneeling with my forehead on the
-wood in front of me, and was thinking of myself as praying, I was a
-little ashamed, and regretted that I was such a rotten Catholic, but
-realized there was nothing I could do about it, at least for a while,
-and maybe never, but that anyway it was a grand religion, and I only
-wished I felt religious and maybe I would the next time; and then I was
-out in the hot sun on the steps of the cathedral, and the forefingers
-and the thumb of my right hand were still damp, and I felt them dry in
-the sun. The sunlight was hot and hard, and I crossed over beside some
-buildings, and walked back along side-streets to the hotel.
-
-At dinner that night we found that Robert Cohn had taken a bath, had had
-a shave and a haircut and a shampoo, and something put on his hair
-afterward to make it stay down. He was nervous, and I did not try to
-help him any. The train was due in at nine o’clock from San Sebastian,
-and, if Brett and Mike were coming, they would be on it. At twenty
-minutes to nine we were not half through dinner. Robert Cohn got up from
-the table and said he would go to the station. I said I would go with
-him, just to devil him. Bill said he would be damned if he would leave
-his dinner. I said we would be right back.
-
-We walked to the station. I was enjoying Cohn’s nervousness. I hoped
-Brett would be on the train. At the station the train was late, and we
-sat on a baggage-truck and waited outside in the dark. I have never seen
-a man in civil life as nervous as Robert Cohn—nor as eager. I was
-enjoying it. It was lousy to enjoy it, but I felt lousy. Cohn had a
-wonderful quality of bringing out the worst in anybody.
-
-After a while we heard the train-whistle way off below on the other side
-of the plateau, and then we saw the headlight coming up the hill. We
-went inside the station and stood with a crowd of people just back of
-the gates, and the train came in and stopped, and everybody started
-coming out through the gates.
-
-They were not in the crowd. We waited till everybody had gone through
-and out of the station and gotten into buses, or taken cabs, or were
-walking with their friends or relatives through the dark into the town.
-
-“I knew they wouldn’t come,” Robert said. We were going back to the
-hotel.
-
-“I thought they might,” I said.
-
-Bill was eating fruit when we came in and finishing a bottle of wine.
-
-“Didn’t come, eh?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Do you mind if I give you that hundred pesetas in the morning, Cohn?”
-Bill asked. “I haven’t changed any money here yet.”
-
-“Oh, forget about it,” Robert Cohn said. “Let’s bet on something else.
-Can you bet on bull-fights?”
-
-“You could,” Bill said, “but you don’t need to.”
-
-“It would be like betting on the war,” I said. “You don’t need any
-economic interest.”
-
-“I’m very curious to see them,” Robert said.
-
-Montoya came up to our table. He had a telegram in his hand. “It’s for
-you.” He handed it to me.
-
-It read: “Stopped night San Sebastian.”
-
-“It’s from them,” I said. I put it in my pocket. Ordinarily I should
-have handed it over.
-
-“They’ve stopped over in San Sebastian,” I said. “Send their regards to
-you.”
-
-Why I felt that impulse to devil him I do not know. Of course I do know.
-I was blind, unforgivingly jealous of what had happened to him. The fact
-that I took it as a matter of course did not alter that any. I certainly
-did hate him. I do not think I ever really hated him until he had that
-little spell of superiority at lunch—that and when he went through all
-that barbering. So I put the telegram in my pocket. The telegram came to
-me, anyway.
-
-“Well,” I said. “We ought to pull out on the noon bus for Burguete. They
-can follow us if they get in to-morrow night.”
-
-There were only two trains up from San Sebastian, an early morning train
-and the one we had just met.
-
-“That sounds like a good idea,” Cohn said.
-
-“The sooner we get on the stream the better.”
-
-“It’s all one to me when we start,” Bill said. “The sooner the better.”
-
-We sat in the Iruña for a while and had coffee and then took a little
-walk out to the bull-ring and across the field and under the trees at
-the edge of the cliff and looked down at the river in the dark, and I
-turned in early. Bill and Cohn stayed out in the café quite late, I
-believe, because I was asleep when they came in.
-
-In the morning I bought three tickets for the bus to Burguete. It was
-scheduled to leave at two o’clock. There was nothing earlier. I was
-sitting over at the Iruña reading the papers when I saw Robert Cohn
-coming across the square. He came up to the table and sat down in one of
-the wicker chairs.
-
-“This is a comfortable café,” he said. “Did you have a good night,
-Jake?”
-
-“I slept like a log.”
-
-“I didn’t sleep very well. Bill and I were out late, too.”
-
-“Where were you?”
-
-“Here. And after it shut we went over to that other café. The old man
-there speaks German and English.”
-
-“The Café Suizo.”
-
-“That’s it. He seems like a nice old fellow. I think it’s a better café
-than this one.”
-
-“It’s not so good in the daytime,” I said. “Too hot. By the way, I got
-the bus tickets.”
-
-“I’m not going up to-day. You and Bill go on ahead.”
-
-“I’ve got your ticket.”
-
-“Give it to me. I’ll get the money back.”
-
-“It’s five pesetas.”
-
-Robert Cohn took out a silver five-peseta piece and gave it to me.
-
-“I ought to stay,” he said. “You see I’m afraid there’s some sort of
-misunderstanding.”
-
-“Why,” I said. “They may not come here for three or four days now if
-they start on parties at San Sebastian.”
-
-“That’s just it,” said Robert. “I’m afraid they expected to meet me at
-San Sebastian, and that’s why they stopped over.”
-
-“What makes you think that?”
-
-“Well, I wrote suggesting it to Brett.”
-
-“Why in hell didn’t you stay there and meet them then?” I started to
-say, but I stopped. I thought that idea would come to him by itself, but
-I do not believe it ever did.
-
-He was being confidential now and it was giving him pleasure to be able
-to talk with the understanding that I knew there was something between
-him and Brett.
-
-“Well, Bill and I will go up right after lunch,” I said.
-
-“I wish I could go. We’ve been looking forward to this fishing all
-winter.” He was being sentimental about it. “But I ought to stay. I
-really ought. As soon as they come I’ll bring them right up.”
-
-“Let’s find Bill.”
-
-“I want to go over to the barber-shop.”
-
-“See you at lunch.”
-
-I found Bill up in his room. He was shaving.
-
-“Oh, yes, he told me all about it last night,” Bill said. “He’s a great
-little confider. He said he had a date with Brett at San Sebastian.”
-
-“The lying bastard!”
-
-“Oh, no,” said Bill. “Don’t get sore. Don’t get sore at this stage of
-the trip. How did you ever happen to know this fellow, anyway?”
-
-“Don’t rub it in.”
-
-Bill looked around, half-shaved, and then went on talking into the
-mirror while he lathered his face.
-
-“Didn’t you send him with a letter to me in New York last winter? Thank
-God, I’m a travelling man. Haven’t you got some more Jewish friends you
-could bring along?” He rubbed his chin with his thumb, looked at it, and
-then started scraping again.
-
-“You’ve got some fine ones yourself.”
-
-“Oh, yes. I’ve got some darbs. But not alongside of this Robert Cohn.
-The funny thing is he’s nice, too. I like him. But he’s just so awful.”
-
-“He can be damn nice.”
-
-“I know it. That’s the terrible part.”
-
-I laughed.
-
-“Yes. Go on and laugh,” said Bill. “You weren’t out with him last night
-until two o’clock.”
-
-“Was he very bad?”
-
-“Awful. What’s all this about him and Brett, anyway? Did she ever have
-anything to do with him?”
-
-He raised his chin up and pulled it from side to side.
-
-“Sure. She went down to San Sebastian with him.”
-
-“What a damn-fool thing to do. Why did she do that?”
-
-“She wanted to get out of town and she can’t go anywhere alone. She said
-she thought it would be good for him.”
-
-“What bloody-fool things people do. Why didn’t she go off with some of
-her own people? Or you?”—he slurred that over—“or me? Why not me?” He
-looked at his face carefully in the glass, put a big dab of lather on
-each cheek-bone. “It’s an honest face. It’s a face any woman would be
-safe with.”
-
-“She’d never seen it.”
-
-“She should have. All women should see it. It’s a face that ought to be
-thrown on every screen in the country. Every woman ought to be given a
-copy of this face as she leaves the altar. Mothers should tell their
-daughters about this face. My son”—he pointed the razor at me—“go west
-with this face and grow up with the country.”
-
-He ducked down to the bowl, rinsed his face with cold water, put on some
-alcohol, and then looked at himself carefully in the glass, pulling down
-his long upper lip.
-
-“My God!” he said, “isn’t it an awful face?”
-
-He looked in the glass.
-
-“And as for this Robert Cohn,” Bill said, “he makes me sick, and he can
-go to hell, and I’m damn glad he’s staying here so we won’t have him
-fishing with us.”
-
-“You’re damn right.”
-
-“We’re going trout-fishing. We’re going trout-fishing in the Irati
-River, and we’re going to get tight now at lunch on the wine of the
-country, and then take a swell bus ride.”
-
-“Come on. Let’s go over to the Iruña and start,” I said.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 11
-
-
-It was baking hot in the square when we came out after lunch with our
-bags and the rod-case to go to Burguete. People were on top of the bus,
-and others were climbing up a ladder. Bill went up and Robert sat beside
-Bill to save a place for me, and I went back in the hotel to get a
-couple of bottles of wine to take with us. When I came out the bus was
-crowded. Men and women were sitting on all the baggage and boxes on top,
-and the women all had their fans going in the sun. It certainly was hot.
-Robert climbed down and I fitted into the place he had saved on the one
-wooden seat that ran across the top.
-
-Robert Cohn stood in the shade of the arcade waiting for us start. A
-Basque with a big leather wine-bag in his lap lay across the top of the
-bus in front of our seat, leaning back against our legs. He offered the
-wine-skin to Bill and to me, and when I tipped it up to drink he
-imitated the sound of a klaxon motor-horn so well and so suddenly that I
-spilled some of the wine, and everybody laughed. He apologized and made
-me take another drink. He made the klaxon again a little later, and it
-fooled me the second time. He was very good at it. The Basques liked it.
-The man next to Bill was talking to him in Spanish and Bill was not
-getting it, so he offered the man one of the bottles of wine. The man
-waved it away. He said it was too hot and he had drunk too much at
-lunch. When Bill offered the bottle the second time he took a long
-drink, and then the bottle went all over that part of the bus. Every one
-took a drink very politely, and then they made us cork it up and put it
-away. They all wanted us to drink from their leather wine-bottles. They
-were peasants going up into the hills.
-
-Finally, after a couple more false klaxons, the bus started, and Robert
-Cohn waved good-by to us, and all the Basques waved good-by to him. As
-soon as we started out on the road outside of town it was cool. It felt
-nice riding high up and close under the trees. The bus went quite fast
-and made a good breeze, and as we went out along the road with the dust
-powdering the trees and down the hill, we had a fine view, back through
-the trees, of the town rising up from the bluff above the river. The
-Basque lying against my knees pointed out the view with the neck of the
-wine-bottle, and winked at us. He nodded his head.
-
-“Pretty nice, eh?”
-
-“These Basques are swell people,” Bill said.
-
-The Basque lying against my legs was tanned the color of saddle-leather.
-He wore a black smock like all the rest. There were wrinkles in his
-tanned neck. He turned around and offered his wine-bag to Bill. Bill
-handed him one of our bottles. The Basque wagged a forefinger at him and
-handed the bottle back, slapping in the cork with the palm of his hand.
-He shoved the wine-bag up.
-
-“Arriba! Arriba!” he said. “Lift it up.”
-
-Bill raised the wine-skin and let the stream of wine spurt out and into
-his mouth, his head tipped back. When he stopped drinking and tipped the
-leather bottle down a few drops ran down his chin.
-
-“No! No!” several Basques said. “Not like that.” One snatched the bottle
-away from the owner, who was himself about to give a demonstration. He
-was a young fellow and he held the wine-bottle at full arms’ length and
-raised it high up, squeezing the leather bag with his hand so the stream
-of wine hissed into his mouth. He held the bag out there, the wine
-making a flat, hard trajectory into his mouth, and he kept on swallowing
-smoothly and regularly.
-
-“Hey!” the owner of the bottle shouted. “Whose wine is that?”
-
-The drinker waggled his little finger at him and smiled at us with his
-eyes. Then he bit the stream off sharp, made a quick lift with the
-wine-bag and lowered it down to the owner. He winked at us. The owner
-shook the wine-skin sadly.
-
-We passed through a town and stopped in front of the posada, and the
-driver took on several packages. Then we started on again, and outside
-the town the road commenced to mount. We were going through farming
-country with rocky hills that sloped down into the fields. The
-grain-fields went up the hillsides. Now as we went higher there was a
-wind blowing the grain. The road was white and dusty, and the dust rose
-under the wheels and hung in the air behind us. The road climbed up into
-the hills and left the rich grain-fields below. Now there were only
-patches of grain on the bare hillsides and on each side of the
-water-courses. We turned sharply out to the side of the road to give
-room to pass to a long string of six mules, following one after the
-other, hauling a high-hooded wagon loaded with freight. The wagon and
-the mules were covered with dust. Close behind was another string of
-mules and another wagon. This was loaded with lumber, and the arriero
-driving the mules leaned back and put on the thick wooden brakes as we
-passed. Up here the country was quite barren and the hills were rocky
-and hard-baked clay furrowed by the rain.
-
-We came around a curve into a town, and on both sides opened out a
-sudden green valley. A stream went through the centre of the town and
-fields of grapes touched the houses.
-
-The bus stopped in front of a posada and many of the passengers got
-down, and a lot of the baggage was unstrapped from the roof from under
-the big tarpaulins and lifted down. Bill and I got down and went into
-the posada. There was a low, dark room with saddles and harness, and
-hay-forks made of white wood, and clusters of canvas rope-soled shoes
-and hams and slabs of bacon and white garlics and long sausages hanging
-from the roof. It was cool and dusky, and we stood in front of a long
-wooden counter with two women behind it serving drinks. Behind them were
-shelves stacked with supplies and goods.
-
-We each had an aguardiente and paid forty centimes for the two drinks. I
-gave the woman fifty centimes to make a tip, and she gave me back the
-copper piece, thinking I had misunderstood the price.
-
-Two of our Basques came in and insisted on buying a drink. So they
-bought a drink and then we bought a drink, and then they slapped us on
-the back and bought another drink. Then we bought, and then we all went
-out into the sunlight and the heat, and climbed back on top of the bus.
-There was plenty of room now for every one to sit on the seat, and the
-Basque who had been lying on the tin roof now sat between us. The woman
-who had been serving drinks came out wiping her hands on her apron and
-talked to somebody inside the bus. Then the driver came out swinging two
-flat leather mail-pouches and climbed up, and everybody waving we
-started off.
-
-The road left the green valley at once, and we were up in the hills
-again. Bill and the wine-bottle Basque were having a conversation. A man
-leaned over from the other side of the seat and asked in English:
-“You’re Americans?”
-
-“Sure.”
-
-“I been there,” he said. “Forty years ago.”
-
-He was an old man, as brown as the others, with the stubble of a white
-beard.
-
-“How was it?”
-
-“What you say?”
-
-“How was America?”
-
-“Oh, I was in California. It was fine.”
-
-“Why did you leave?”
-
-“What you say?”
-
-“Why did you come back here?”
-
-“Oh! I come back to get married. I was going to go back but my wife she
-don’t like to travel. Where you from?”
-
-“Kansas City.”
-
-“I been there,” he said. “I been in Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City,
-Denver, Los Angeles, Salt Lake City.”
-
-He named them carefully.
-
-“How long were you over?”
-
-“Fifteen years. Then I come back and got married.”
-
-“Have a drink?”
-
-“All right,” he said. “You can’t get this in America, eh?”
-
-“There’s plenty if you can pay for it.”
-
-“What you come over here for?”
-
-“We’re going to the fiesta at Pamplona.”
-
-“You like the bull-fights?”
-
-“Sure. Don’t you?”
-
-“Yes,” he said. “I guess I like them.”
-
-Then after a little:
-
-“Where you go now?”
-
-“Up to Burguete to fish.”
-
-“Well,” he said, “I hope you catch something.”
-
-He shook hands and turned around to the back seat again. The other
-Basques had been impressed. He sat back comfortably and smiled at me
-when I turned around to look at the country. But the effort of talking
-American seemed to have tired him. He did not say anything after that.
-
-The bus climbed steadily up the road. The country was barren and rocks
-stuck up through the clay. There was no grass beside the road. Looking
-back we could see the country spread out below. Far back the fields were
-squares of green and brown on the hillsides. Making the horizon were the
-brown mountains. They were strangely shaped. As we climbed higher the
-horizon kept changing. As the bus ground slowly up the road we could see
-other mountains coming up in the south. Then the road came over the
-crest, flattened out, and went into a forest. It was a forest of cork
-oaks, and the sun came through the trees in patches, and there were
-cattle grazing back in the trees. We went through the forest and the
-road came out and turned along a rise of land, and out ahead of us was a
-rolling green plain, with dark mountains beyond it. These were not like
-the brown, heat-baked mountains we had left behind. These were wooded
-and there were clouds coming down from them. The green plain stretched
-off. It was cut by fences and the white of the road showed through the
-trunks of a double line of trees that crossed the plain toward the
-north. As we came to the edge of the rise we saw the red roofs and white
-houses of Burguete ahead strung out on the plain, and away off on the
-shoulder of the first dark mountain was the gray metal-sheathed roof of
-the monastery of Roncesvalles.
-
-“There’s Roncevaux,” I said.
-
-“Where?”
-
-“Way off there where the mountain starts.”
-
-“It’s cold up here,” Bill said.
-
-“It’s high,” I said. “It must be twelve hundred metres.”
-
-“It’s awful cold,” Bill said.
-
-The bus levelled down onto the straight line of road that ran to
-Burguete. We passed a crossroads and crossed a bridge over a stream. The
-houses of Burguete were along both sides of the road. There were no
-side-streets. We passed the church and the school-yard, and the bus
-stopped. We got down and the driver handed down our bags and the
-rod-case. A carabineer in his cocked hat and yellow leather cross-straps
-came up.
-
-“What’s in there?” he pointed to the rod-case.
-
-I opened it and showed him. He asked to see our fishing permits and I
-got them out. He looked at the date and then waved us on.
-
-“Is that all right?” I asked.
-
-“Yes. Of course.”
-
-We went up the street, past the whitewashed stone houses, families
-sitting in their doorways watching us, to the inn.
-
-The fat woman who ran the inn came out from the kitchen and shook hands
-with us. She took off her spectacles, wiped them, and put them on again.
-It was cold in the inn and the wind was starting to blow outside. The
-woman sent a girl up-stairs with us to show the room. There were two
-beds, a washstand, a clothes-chest, and a big, framed steel-engraving of
-Nuestra Señora de Roncesvalles. The wind was blowing against the
-shutters. The room was on the north side of the inn. We washed, put on
-sweaters, and came down-stairs into the dining-room. It had a stone
-floor, low ceiling, and was oak-panelled. The shutters were up and it
-was so cold you could see your breath.
-
-“My God!” said Bill. “It can’t be this cold to-morrow. I’m not going to
-wade a stream in this weather.”
-
-There was an upright piano in the far corner of the room beyond the
-wooden tables and Bill went over and started to play.
-
-“I got to keep warm,” he said.
-
-I went out to find the woman and ask her how much the room and board
-was. She put her hands under her apron and looked away from me.
-
-“Twelve pesetas.”
-
-“Why, we only paid that in Pamplona.”
-
-She did not say anything, just took off her glasses and wiped them on
-her apron.
-
-“That’s too much,” I said. “We didn’t pay more than that at a big
-hotel.”
-
-“We’ve put in a bathroom.”
-
-“Haven’t you got anything cheaper?”
-
-“Not in the summer. Now is the big season.”
-
-We were the only people in the inn. Well, I thought, it’s only a few
-days.
-
-“Is the wine included?”
-
-“Oh, yes.”
-
-“Well,” I said. “It’s all right.”
-
-I went back to Bill. He blew his breath at me to show how cold it was,
-and went on playing. I sat at one of the tables and looked at the
-pictures on the wall. There was one panel of rabbits, dead, one of
-pheasants, also dead, and one panel of dead ducks. The panels were all
-dark and smoky-looking. There was a cupboard full of liqueur bottles. I
-looked at them all. Bill was still playing. “How about a hot rum punch?”
-he said. “This isn’t going to keep me warm permanently.”
-
-I went out and told the woman what a rum punch was and how to make it.
-In a few minutes a girl brought a stone pitcher, steaming, into the
-room. Bill came over from the piano and we drank the hot punch and
-listened to the wind.
-
-“There isn’t too much rum in that.”
-
-I went over to the cupboard and brought the rum bottle and poured a
-half-tumblerful into the pitcher.
-
-“Direct action,” said Bill. “It beats legislation.”
-
-The girl came in and laid the table for supper.
-
-“It blows like hell up here,” Bill said.
-
-The girl brought in a big bowl of hot vegetable soup and the wine. We
-had fried trout afterward and some sort of a stew and a big bowl full of
-wild strawberries. We did not lose money on the wine, and the girl was
-shy but nice about bringing it. The old woman looked in once and counted
-the empty bottles.
-
-After supper we went up-stairs and smoked and read in bed to keep warm.
-Once in the night I woke and heard the wind blowing. It felt good to be
-warm and in bed.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 12
-
-
-When I woke in the morning I went to the window and looked out. It had
-cleared and there were no clouds on the mountains. Outside under the
-window were some carts and an old diligence, the wood of the roof
-cracked and split by the weather. It must have been left from the days
-before the motor-buses. A goat hopped up on one of the carts and then to
-the roof of the diligence. He jerked his head at the other goats below
-and when I waved at him he bounded down.
-
-Bill was still sleeping, so I dressed, put on my shoes outside in the
-hall, and went down-stairs. No one was stirring down-stairs, so I
-unbolted the door and went out. It was cool outside in the early morning
-and the sun had not yet dried the dew that had come when the wind died
-down. I hunted around in the shed behind the inn and found a sort of
-mattock, and went down toward the stream to try and dig some worms for
-bait. The stream was clear and shallow but it did not look trouty. On
-the grassy bank where it was damp I drove the mattock into the earth and
-loosened a chunk of sod. There were worms underneath. They slid out of
-sight as I lifted the sod and I dug carefully and got a good many.
-Digging at the edge of the damp ground I filled two empty tobacco-tins
-with worms and sifted dirt onto them. The goats watched me dig.
-
-When I went back into the inn the woman was down in the kitchen, and I
-asked her to get coffee for us, and that we wanted a lunch. Bill was
-awake and sitting on the edge of the bed.
-
-“I saw you out of the window,” he said. “Didn’t want to interrupt you.
-What were you doing? Burying your money?”
-
-“You lazy bum!”
-
-“Been working for the common good? Splendid. I want you to do that every
-morning.”
-
-“Come on,” I said. “Get up.”
-
-“What? Get up? I never get up.”
-
-He climbed into bed and pulled the sheet up to his chin.
-
-“Try and argue me into getting up.”
-
-I went on looking for the tackle and putting it all together in the
-tackle-bag.
-
-“Aren’t you interested?” Bill asked.
-
-“I’m going down and eat.”
-
-“Eat? Why didn’t you say eat? I thought you just wanted me to get up for
-fun. Eat? Fine. Now you’re reasonable. You go out and dig some more
-worms and I’ll be right down.”
-
-“Oh, go to hell!”
-
-“Work for the good of all.” Bill stepped into his underclothes. “Show
-irony and pity.”
-
-I started out of the room with the tackle-bag, the nets, and the
-rod-case.
-
-“Hey! come back!”
-
-I put my head in the door.
-
-“Aren’t you going to show a little irony and pity?”
-
-I thumbed my nose.
-
-“That’s not irony.”
-
-As I went down-stairs I heard Bill singing, “Irony and Pity. When you’re
-feeling . . . Oh, Give them Irony and Give them Pity. Oh, give them
-Irony. When they’re feeling . . . Just a little irony. Just a little
-pity . . .” He kept on singing until he came down-stairs. The tune was:
-“The Bells are Ringing for Me and my Gal.” I was reading a week-old
-Spanish paper.
-
-“What’s all this irony and pity?”
-
-“What? Don’t you know about Irony and Pity?”
-
-“No. Who got it up?”
-
-“Everybody. They’re mad about it in New York. It’s just like the
-Fratellinis used to be.”
-
-The girl came in with the coffee and buttered toast. Or, rather, it was
-bread toasted and buttered.
-
-“Ask her if she’s got any jam,” Bill said. “Be ironical with her.”
-
-“Have you got any jam?”
-
-“That’s not ironical. I wish I could talk Spanish.”
-
-The coffee was good and we drank it out of big bowls. The girl brought
-in a glass dish of raspberry jam.
-
-“Thank you.”
-
-“Hey! that’s not the way,” Bill said. “Say something ironical. Make some
-crack about Primo de Rivera.”
-
-“I could ask her what kind of a jam they think they’ve gotten into in
-the Riff.”
-
-“Poor,” said Bill. “Very poor. You can’t do it. That’s all. You don’t
-understand irony. You have no pity. Say something pitiful.”
-
-“Robert Cohn.”
-
-“Not so bad. That’s better. Now why is Cohn pitiful? Be ironic.”
-
-He took a big gulp of coffee.
-
-“Aw, hell!” I said. “It’s too early in the morning.”
-
-“There you go. And you claim you want to be a writer, too. You’re only a
-newspaper man. An expatriated newspaper man. You ought to be ironical
-the minute you get out of bed. You ought to wake up with your mouth full
-of pity.”
-
-“Go on,” I said. “Who did you get this stuff from?”
-
-“Everybody. Don’t you read? Don’t you ever see anybody? You know what
-you are? You’re an expatriate. Why don’t you live in New York? Then
-you’d know these things. What do you want me to do? Come over here and
-tell you every year?”
-
-“Take some more coffee,” I said.
-
-“Good. Coffee is good for you. It’s the caffeine in it. Caffeine, we are
-here. Caffeine puts a man on her horse and a woman in his grave. You
-know what’s the trouble with you? You’re an expatriate. One of the worst
-type. Haven’t you heard that? Nobody that ever left their own country
-ever wrote anything worth printing. Not even in the newspapers.”
-
-He drank the coffee.
-
-“You’re an expatriate. You’ve lost touch with the soil. You get
-precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to
-death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your time talking, not
-working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafés.”
-
-“It sounds like a swell life,” I said. “When do I work?”
-
-“You don’t work. One group claims women support you. Another group
-claims you’re impotent.”
-
-“No,” I said. “I just had an accident.”
-
-“Never mention that,” Bill said. “That’s the sort of thing that can’t be
-spoken of. That’s what you ought to work up into a mystery. Like Henry’s
-bicycle.”
-
-He had been going splendidly, but he stopped. I was afraid he thought he
-had hurt me with that crack about being impotent. I wanted to start him
-again.
-
-“It wasn’t a bicycle,” I said. “He was riding horseback.”
-
-“I heard it was a tricycle.”
-
-“Well,” I said. “A plane is sort of like a tricycle. The joystick works
-the same way.”
-
-“But you don’t pedal it.”
-
-“No,” I said, “I guess you don’t pedal it.”
-
-“Let’s lay off that,” Bill said.
-
-“All right. I was just standing up for the tricycle.”
-
-“I think he’s a good writer, too,” Bill said. “And you’re a hell of a
-good guy. Anybody ever tell you you were a good guy?”
-
-“I’m not a good guy.”
-
-“Listen. You’re a hell of a good guy, and I’m fonder of you than anybody
-on earth. I couldn’t tell you that in New York. It’d mean I was a
-faggot. That was what the Civil War was about. Abraham Lincoln was a
-faggot. He was in love with General Grant. So was Jefferson Davis.
-Lincoln just freed the slaves on a bet. The Dred Scott case was framed
-by the Anti-Saloon League. Sex explains it all. The Colonel’s Lady and
-Judy O’Grady are Lesbians under their skin.”
-
-He stopped.
-
-“Want to hear some more?”
-
-“Shoot,” I said.
-
-“I don’t know any more. Tell you some more at lunch.”
-
-“Old Bill,” I said.
-
-“You bum!”
-
-We packed the lunch and two bottles of wine in the rucksack, and Bill
-put it on. I carried the rod-case and the landing-nets slung over my
-back. We started up the road and then went across a meadow and found a
-path that crossed the fields and went toward the woods on the slope of
-the first hill. We walked across the fields on the sandy path. The
-fields were rolling and grassy and the grass was short from the sheep
-grazing. The cattle were up in the hills. We heard their bells in the
-woods.
-
-The path crossed a stream on a foot-log. The log was surfaced off, and
-there was a sapling bent across for a rail. In the flat pool beside the
-stream tadpoles spotted the sand. We went up a steep bank and across the
-rolling fields. Looking back we saw Burguete, white houses and red
-roofs, and the white road with a truck going along it and the dust
-rising.
-
-Beyond the fields we crossed another faster-flowing stream. A sandy road
-led down to the ford and beyond into the woods. The path crossed the
-stream on another foot-log below the ford, and joined the road, and we
-went into the woods.
-
-It was a beech wood and the trees were very old. Their roots bulked
-above the ground and the branches were twisted. We walked on the road
-between the thick trunks of the old beeches and the sunlight came
-through the leaves in light patches on the grass. The trees were big,
-and the foliage was thick but it was not gloomy. There was no
-undergrowth, only the smooth grass, very green and fresh, and the big
-gray trees well spaced as though it were a park.
-
-“This is country,” Bill said.
-
-The road went up a hill and we got into thick woods, and the road kept
-on climbing. Sometimes it dipped down but rose again steeply. All the
-time we heard the cattle in the woods. Finally, the road came out on the
-top of the hills. We were on the top of the height of land that was the
-highest part of the range of wooded hills we had seen from Burguete.
-There were wild strawberries growing on the sunny side of the ridge in a
-little clearing in the trees.
-
-Ahead the road came out of the forest and went along the shoulder of the
-ridge of hills. The hills ahead were not wooded, and there were great
-fields of yellow gorse. Way off we saw the steep bluffs, dark with trees
-and jutting with gray stone, that marked the course of the Irati River.
-
-“We have to follow this road along the ridge, cross these hills, go
-through the woods on the far hills, and come down to the Irati valley,”
-I pointed out to Bill.
-
-“That’s a hell of a hike.”
-
-“It’s too far to go and fish and come back the same day, comfortably.”
-
-“Comfortably. That’s a nice word. We’ll have to go like hell to get
-there and back and have any fishing at all.”
-
-It was a long walk and the country was very fine, but we were tired when
-we came down the steep road that led out of the wooded hills into the
-valley of the Rio de la Fabrica.
-
-The road came out from the shadow of the woods into the hot sun. Ahead
-was a river-valley. Beyond the river was a steep hill. There was a field
-of buckwheat on the hill. We saw a white house under some trees on the
-hillside. It was very hot and we stopped under some trees beside a dam
-that crossed the river.
-
-Bill put the pack against one of the trees and we jointed up the rods,
-put on the reels, tied on leaders, and got ready to fish.
-
-“You’re sure this thing has trout in it?” Bill asked.
-
-“It’s full of them.”
-
-“I’m going to fish a fly. You got any McGintys?”
-
-“There’s some in there.”
-
-“You going to fish bait?”
-
-“Yeah. I’m going to fish the dam here.”
-
-“Well, I’ll take the fly-book, then.” He tied on a fly. “Where’d I
-better go? Up or down?”
-
-“Down is the best. They’re plenty up above, too.”
-
-Bill went down the bank.
-
-“Take a worm can.”
-
-“No, I don’t want one. If they won’t take a fly I’ll just flick it
-around.”
-
-Bill was down below watching the stream.
-
-“Say,” he called up against the noise of the dam. “How about putting the
-wine in that spring up the road?”
-
-“All right,” I shouted. Bill waved his hand and started down the stream.
-I found the two wine-bottles in the pack, and carried them up the road
-to where the water of a spring flowed out of an iron pipe. There was a
-board over the spring and I lifted it and, knocking the corks firmly
-into the bottles, lowered them down into the water. It was so cold my
-hand and wrist felt numbed. I put back the slab of wood, and hoped
-nobody would find the wine.
-
-I got my rod that was leaning against the tree, took the bait-can and
-landing-net, and walked out onto the dam. It was built to provide a head
-of water for driving logs. The gate was up, and I sat on one of the
-squared timbers and watched the smooth apron of water before the river
-tumbled into the falls. In the white water at the foot of the dam it was
-deep. As I baited up, a trout shot up out of the white water into the
-falls and was carried down. Before I could finish baiting, another trout
-jumped at the falls, making the same lovely arc and disappearing into
-the water that was thundering down. I put on a good-sized sinker and
-dropped into the white water close to the edge of the timbers of the
-dam.
-
-I did not feel the first trout strike. When I started to pull up I felt
-that I had one and brought him, fighting and bending the rod almost
-double, out of the boiling water at the foot of the falls, and swung him
-up and onto the dam. He was a good trout, and I banged his head against
-the timber so that he quivered out straight, and then slipped him into
-my bag.
-
-While I had him on, several trout had jumped at the falls. As soon as I
-baited up and dropped in again I hooked another and brought him in the
-same way. In a little while I had six. They were all about the same
-size. I laid them out, side by side, all their heads pointing the same
-way, and looked at them. They were beautifully colored and firm and hard
-from the cold water. It was a hot day, so I slit them all and shucked
-out the insides, gills and all, and tossed them over across the river. I
-took the trout ashore, washed them in the cold, smoothly heavy water
-above the dam, and then picked some ferns and packed them all in the
-bag, three trout on a layer of ferns, then another layer of fems, then
-three more trout, and then covered them with ferns. They looked nice in
-the ferns, and now the bag was bulky, and I put it in the shade of the
-tree.
-
-It was very hot on the dam, so I put my worm-can in the shade with the
-bag, and got a book out of the pack and settled down under the tree to
-read until Bill should come up for lunch.
-
-It was a little past noon and there was not much shade, but I sat
-against the trunk of two of the trees that grew together, and read. The
-book was something by A. E. W. Mason, and I was reading a wonderful
-story about a man who had been frozen in the Alps and then fallen into a
-glacier and disappeared, and his bride was going to wait twenty-four
-years exactly for his body to come out on the moraine, while her true
-love waited too, and they were still waiting when Bill came up.
-
-“Get any?” he asked. He had his rod and his bag and his net all in one
-hand, and he was sweating. I hadn’t heard him come up, because of the
-noise from the dam.
-
-“Six. What did you get?”
-
-Bill sat down, opened up his bag, laid a big trout on the grass. He took
-out three more, each one a little bigger than the last, and laid them
-side by side in the shade from the tree. His face was sweaty and happy.
-
-“How are yours?”
-
-“Smaller.”
-
-“Let’s see them.”
-
-“They’re packed.”
-
-“How big are they really?”
-
-“They’re all about the size of your smallest.”
-
-“You’re not holding out on me?”
-
-“I wish I were.”
-
-“Get them all on worms?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“You lazy bum!”
-
-Bill put the trout in the bag and started for the river, swinging the
-open bag. He was wet from the waist down and I knew he must have been
-wading the stream.
-
-I walked up the road and got out the two bottles of wine. They were
-cold. Moisture beaded on the bottles as I walked back to the trees. I
-spread the lunch on a newspaper, and uncorked one of the bottles and
-leaned the other against a tree. Bill came up drying his hands, his bag
-plump with ferns.
-
-“Let’s see that bottle,” he said. He pulled the cork, and tipped up the
-bottle and drank. “Whew! That makes my eyes ache.”
-
-“Let’s try it.”
-
-The wine was icy cold and tasted faintly rusty.
-
-“That’s not such filthy wine,” Bill said.
-
-“The cold helps it,” I said.
-
-We unwrapped the little parcels of lunch.
-
-“Chicken.”
-
-“There’s hard-boiled eggs.”
-
-“Find any salt?”
-
-“First the egg,” said Bill. “Then the chicken. Even Bryan could see
-that.”
-
-“He’s dead. I read it in the paper yesterday.”
-
-“No. Not really?”
-
-“Yes. Bryan’s dead.”
-
-Bill laid down the egg he was peeling.
-
-“Gentlemen,” he said, and unwrapped a drumstick from a piece of
-newspaper. “I reverse the order. For Bryan’s sake. As a tribute to the
-Great Commoner. First the chicken; then the egg.”
-
-“Wonder what day God created the chicken?”
-
-“Oh,” said Bill, sucking the drumstick, “how should we know? We should
-not question. Our stay on earth is not for long. Let us rejoice and
-believe and give thanks.”
-
-“Eat an egg.”
-
-Bill gestured with the drumstick in one hand and the bottle of wine in
-the other.
-
-“Let us rejoice in our blessings. Let us utilize the fowls of the air.
-Let us utilize the product of the vine. Will you utilize a little,
-brother?”
-
-“After you, brother.”
-
-Bill took a long drink.
-
-“Utilize a little, brother,” he handed me the bottle. “Let us not doubt,
-brother. Let us not pry into the holy mysteries of the hen-coop with
-simian fingers. Let us accept on faith and simply say—I want you to
-join with me in saying—What shall we say, brother?” He pointed the
-drumstick at me and went on. “Let me tell you. We will say, and I for
-one am proud to say—and I want you to say with me, on your knees,
-brother. Let no man be ashamed to kneel here in the great out-of-doors.
-Remember the woods were God’s first temples. Let us kneel and say:
-‘Don’t eat that, Lady—that’s Mencken.’”
-
-“Here,” I said. “Utilize a little of this.”
-
-We uncorked the other bottle.
-
-“What’s the matter?” I said. “Didn’t you like Bryan?”
-
-“I loved Bryan,” said Bill. “We were like brothers.”
-
-“Where did you know him?”
-
-“He and Mencken and I all went to Holy Cross together.”
-
-“And Frankie Fritsch.”
-
-“It’s a lie. Frankie Fritsch went to Fordham.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “I went to Loyola with Bishop Manning.”
-
-“It’s a lie,” Bill said. “I went to Loyola with Bishop Manning myself.”
-
-“You’re cock-eyed,” I said.
-
-“On wine?”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“It’s the humidity,” Bill said. “They ought to take this damn humidity
-away.”
-
-“Have another shot.”
-
-“Is this all we’ve got?”
-
-“Only the two bottles.”
-
-“Do you know what you are?” Bill looked at the bottle affectionately.
-
-“No,” I said.
-
-“You’re in the pay of the Anti-Saloon League.”
-
-“I went to Notre Dame with Wayne B. Wheeler.”
-
-“It’s a lie,” said Bill. “I went to Austin Business College with Wayne
-B. Wheeler. He was class president.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “the saloon must go.”
-
-“You’re right there, old classmate,” Bill said. “The saloon must go, and
-I will take it with me.”
-
-“You’re cock-eyed.”
-
-“On wine?”
-
-“On wine.”
-
-“Well, maybe I am.”
-
-“Want to take a nap?”
-
-“All right.”
-
-We lay with our heads in the shade and looked up into the trees.
-
-“You asleep?”
-
-“No,” Bill said. “I was thinking.”
-
-I shut my eyes. It felt good lying on the ground.
-
-“Say,” Bill said, “what about this Brett business?”
-
-“What about it?”
-
-“Were you ever in love with her?”
-
-“Sure.”
-
-“For how long?”
-
-“Off and on for a hell of a long time.”
-
-“Oh, hell!” Bill said. “I’m sorry, fella.”
-
-“It’s all right,” I said. “I don’t give a damn any more.”
-
-“Really?”
-
-“Really. Only I’d a hell of a lot rather not talk about it.”
-
-“You aren’t sore I asked you?”
-
-“Why the hell should I be?”
-
-“I’m going to sleep,” Bill said. He put a newspaper over his face.
-
-“Listen, Jake,” he said, “are you really a Catholic?”
-
-“Technically.”
-
-“What does that mean?”
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“All right, I’ll go to sleep now,” he said. “Don’t keep me awake by
-talking so much.”
-
-I went to sleep, too. When I woke up Bill was packing the rucksack. It
-was late in the afternoon and the shadow from the trees was long and
-went out over the dam. I was stiff from sleeping on the ground.
-
-“What did you do? Wake up?” Bill asked. “Why didn’t you spend the
-night?” I stretched and rubbed my eyes.
-
-“I had a lovely dream,” Bill said. “I don’t remember what it was about,
-but it was a lovely dream.”
-
-“I don’t think I dreamt.”
-
-“You ought to dream,” Bill said. “All our biggest business men have been
-dreamers. Look at Ford. Look at President Coolidge. Look at Rockefeller.
-Look at Jo Davidson.”
-
-I disjointed my rod and Bill’s and packed them in the rod-case. I put
-the reels in the tackle-bag. Bill had packed the rucksack and we put one
-of the trout-bags in. I carried the other.
-
-“Well,” said Bill, “have we got everything?”
-
-“The worms.”
-
-“Your worms. Put them in there.”
-
-He had the pack on his back and I put the worm-cans in one of the
-outside flap pockets.
-
-“You got everything now?”
-
-I looked around on the grass at the foot of the elm-trees.
-
-“Yes.”
-
-We started up the road into the woods. It was a long walk home to
-Burguete, and it was dark when we came down across the fields to the
-road, and along the road between the houses of the town, their windows
-lighted, to the inn.
-
-We stayed five days at Burguete and had good fishing. The nights were
-cold and the days were hot, and there was always a breeze even in the
-heat of the day. It was hot enough so that it felt good to wade in a
-cold stream, and the sun dried you when you came out and sat on the
-bank. We found a stream with a pool deep enough to swim in. In the
-evenings we played three-handed bridge with an Englishman named Harris,
-who had walked over from Saint Jean Pied de Port and was stopping at the
-inn for the fishing. He was very pleasant and went with us twice to the
-Irati River. There was no word from Robert Cohn nor from Brett and Mike.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 13
-
-
-One morning I went down to breakfast and the Englishman, Harris, was
-already at the table. He was reading the paper through spectacles. He
-looked up and smiled.
-
-“Good morning,” he said. “Letter for you. I stopped at the post and they
-gave it me with mine.”
-
-The letter was at my place at the table, leaning against a coffee-cup.
-Harris was reading the paper again. I opened the letter. It had been
-forwarded from Pamplona. It was dated San Sebastian, Sunday:
-
- DEAR JAKE,
-
- We got here Friday, Brett passed out on the train, so brought
- her here for 3 days rest with old friends of ours. We go to
- Montoya Hotel Pamplona Tuesday, arriving at I don’t know what
- hour. Will you send a note by the bus to tell us what to do to
- rejoin you all on Wednesday. All our love and sorry to be late,
- but Brett was really done in and will be quite all right by
- Tues. and is practically so now. I know her so well and try to
- look after her but it’s not so easy. Love to all the chaps,
-
- MICHAEL.
-
-“What day of the week is it?” I asked Harris.
-
-“Wednesday, I think. Yes, quite. Wednesday. Wonderful how one loses
-track of the days up here in the mountains.”
-
-“Yes. We’ve been here nearly a week.”
-
-“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving?”
-
-“Yes. We’ll go in on the afternoon bus, I’m afraid.”
-
-“What a rotten business. I had hoped we’d all have another go at the
-Irati together.”
-
-“We have to go _into_ Pamplona. We’re meeting people there.”
-
-“What rotten luck for me. We’ve had a jolly time here at Burguete.”
-
-“Come on in to Pamplona. We can play some bridge there, and there’s
-going to be a damned fine fiesta.”
-
-“I’d like to. Awfully nice of you to ask me. I’d best stop on here,
-though. I’ve not much more time to fish.”
-
-“You want those big ones in the Irati.”
-
-“I say, I do, you know. They’re enormous trout there.”
-
-“I’d like to try them once more.”
-
-“Do. Stop over another day. Be a good chap.”
-
-“We really have to get into town,” I said.
-
-“What a pity.”
-
-After breakfast Bill and I were sitting warming in the sun on a bench
-out in front of the inn and talking it over. I saw a girl coming up the
-road from the centre of the town. She stopped in front of us and took a
-telegram out of the leather wallet that hung against her skirt.
-
-“Por ustedes?”
-
-I looked at it. The address was: “Barnes, Burguete.”
-
-“Yes. It’s for us.”
-
-She brought out a book for me to sign, and I gave her a couple of
-coppers. The telegram was in Spanish: “Vengo Jueves Cohn.”
-
-I handed it to Bill.
-
-“What does the word Cohn mean?” he asked.
-
-“What a lousy telegram!” I said. “He could send ten words for the same
-price. ‘I come Thursday.’ That gives you a lot of dope, doesn’t it?”
-
-“It gives you all the dope that’s of interest to Cohn.”
-
-“We’re going in, anyway,” I said. “There’s no use trying to move Brett
-and Mike out here and back before the fiesta. Should we answer it?”
-
-“We might as well,” said Bill. “There’s no need for us to be snooty.”
-
-We walked up to the post-office and asked for a telegraph blank.
-
-“What will we say?” Bill asked.
-
-“‘Arriving to-night.’ That’s enough.”
-
-We paid for the message and walked back to the inn. Harris was there and
-the three of us walked up to Roncesvalles. We went through the
-monastery.
-
-“It’s a remarkable place,” Harris said, when we came out. “But you know
-I’m not much on those sort of places.”
-
-“Me either,” Bill said.
-
-“It’s a remarkable place, though,” Harris said. “I wouldn’t not have
-seen it. I’d been intending coming up each day.”
-
-“It isn’t the same as fishing, though, is it?” Bill asked. He liked
-Harris.
-
-“I say not.”
-
-We were standing in front of the old chapel of the monastery.
-
-“Isn’t that a pub across the way?” Harris asked. “Or do my eyes deceive
-me?”
-
-“It has the look of a pub,” Bill said.
-
-“It looks to me like a pub,” I said.
-
-“I say,” said Harris, “let’s utilize it.” He had taken up utilizing from
-Bill.
-
-We had a bottle of wine apiece. Harris would not let us pay. He talked
-Spanish quite well, and the innkeeper would not take our money.
-
-“I say. You don’t know what it’s meant to me to have you chaps up here.”
-
-“We’ve had a grand time, Harris.”
-
-Harris was a little tight.
-
-“I say. Really you don’t know how much it means. I’ve not had much fun
-since the war.”
-
-“We’ll fish together again, some time. Don’t you forget it, Harris.”
-
-“We must. We _have_ had such a jolly good time.”
-
-“How about another bottle around?”
-
-“Jolly good idea,” said Harris.
-
-“This is mine,” said Bill. “Or we don’t drink it.”
-
-“I wish you’d let me pay for it. It _does_ give me pleasure, you know.”
-
-“This is going to give me pleasure,” Bill said.
-
-The innkeeper brought in the fourth bottle. We had kept the same
-glasses. Harris lifted his glass.
-
-“I say. You know this does utilize well.”
-
-Bill slapped him on the back.
-
-“Good old Harris.”
-
-“I say. You know my name isn’t really Harris. It’s Wilson-Harris. All
-one name. With a hyphen, you know.”
-
-“Good old Wilson-Harris,” Bill said. “We call you Harris because we’re
-so fond of you.”
-
-“I say, Barnes. You don’t know what this all means to me.”
-
-“Come on and utilize another glass,” I said.
-
-“Barnes. Really, Barnes, you can’t know. That’s all.”
-
-“Drink up, Harris.”
-
-We walked back down the road from Roncesvalles with Harris between us.
-We had lunch at the inn and Harris went with us to the bus. He gave us
-his card, with his address in London and his club and his business
-address, and as we got on the bus he handed us each an envelope. I
-opened mine and there were a dozen flies in it. Harris had tied them
-himself. He tied all his own flies.
-
-“I say, Harris—” I began.
-
-“No, no!” he said. He was climbing down from the bus. “They’re not
-first-rate flies at all. I only thought if you fished them some time it
-might remind you of what a good time we had.”
-
-The bus started. Harris stood in front of the post-office. He waved. As
-we started along the road he turned and walked back toward the inn.
-
-“Say, wasn’t that Harris nice?” Bill said.
-
-“I think he really did have a good time.”
-
-“Harris? You bet he did.”
-
-“I wish he’d come into Pamplona.”
-
-“He wanted to fish.”
-
-“Yes. You couldn’t tell how English would mix with each other, anyway.”
-
-“I suppose not.”
-
-We got into Pamplona late in the afternoon and the bus stopped in front
-of the Hotel Montoya. Out in the plaza they were stringing
-electric-light wires to light the plaza for the fiesta. A few kids came
-up when the bus stopped, and a customs officer for the town made all the
-people getting down from the bus open their bundles on the sidewalk. We
-went into the hotel and on the stairs I met Montoya. He shook hands with
-us, smiling in his embarrassed way.
-
-“Your friends are here,” he said.
-
-“Mr. Campbell?”
-
-“Yes. Mr. Cohn and Mr. Campbell and Lady Ashley.”
-
-He smiled as though there were something I would hear about.
-
-“When did they get in?”
-
-“Yesterday. I’ve saved you the rooms you had.”
-
-“That’s fine. Did you give Mr. Campbell the room on the plaza?”
-
-“Yes. All the rooms we looked at.”
-
-“Where are our friends now?”
-
-“I think they went to the pelota.”
-
-“And how about the bulls?”
-
-Montoya smiled. “To-night,” he said. “To-night at seven o’clock they
-bring in the Villar bulls, and to-morrow come the Miuras. Do you all go
-down?”
-
-“Oh, yes. They’ve never seen a desencajonada.”
-
-Montoya put his hand on my shoulder.
-
-“I’ll see you there.”
-
-He smiled again. He always smiled as though bull-fighting were a very
-special secret between the two of us; a rather shocking but really very
-deep secret that we knew about. He always smiled as though there were
-something lewd about the secret to outsiders, but that it was something
-that we understood. It would not do to expose it to people who would not
-understand.
-
-“Your friend, is he aficionado, too?” Montoya smiled at Bill.
-
-“Yes. He came all the way from New York to see the San Fermines.”
-
-“Yes?” Montoya politely disbelieved. “But he’s not aficionado like you.”
-
-He put his hand on my shoulder again embarrassedly.
-
-“Yes,” I said. “He’s a real aficionado.”
-
-“But he’s not aficionado like you are.”
-
-Aficion means passion. An aficionado is one who is passionate about the
-bull-fights. All the good bull-fighters stayed at Montoya’s hotel; that
-is, those with aficion stayed there. The commercial bull-fighters stayed
-once, perhaps, and then did not come back. The good ones came each year.
-In Montoya’s room were their photographs. The photographs were dedicated
-to Juanito Montoya or to his sister. The photographs of bull-fighters
-Montoya had really believed in were framed. Photographs of bull-fighters
-who had been without aficion Montoya kept in a drawer of his desk. They
-often had the most flattering inscriptions. But they did not mean
-anything. One day Montoya took them all out and dropped them in the
-waste-basket. He did not want them around.
-
-We often talked about bulls and bull-fighters. I had stopped at the
-Montoya for several years. We never talked for very long at a time. It
-was simply the pleasure of discovering what we each felt. Men would come
-in from distant towns and before they left Pamplona stop and talk for a
-few minutes with Montoya about bulls. These men were aficionados. Those
-who were aficionados could always get rooms even when the hotel was
-full. Montoya introduced me to some of them. They were always very
-polite at first, and it amused them very much that I should be an
-American. Somehow it was taken for granted that an American could not
-have aficion. He might simulate it or confuse it with excitement, but he
-could not really have it. When they saw that I had aficion, and there
-was no password, no set questions that could bring it out, rather it was
-a sort of oral spiritual examination with the questions always a little
-on the defensive and never apparent, there was this same embarrassed
-putting the hand on the shoulder, or a “Buen hombre.” But nearly always
-there was the actual touching. It seemed as though they wanted to touch
-you to make it certain.
-
-Montoya could forgive anything of a bull-fighter who had aficion. He
-could forgive attacks of nerves, panic, bad unexplainable actions, all
-sorts of lapses. For one who had aficion he could forgive anything. At
-once he forgave me all my friends. Without his ever saying anything they
-were simply a little something shameful between us, like the spilling
-open of the horses in bull-fighting.
-
-Bill had gone up-stairs as we came in, and I found him washing and
-changing in his room.
-
-“Well,” he said, “talk a lot of Spanish?”
-
-“He was telling me about the bulls coming in to-night.”
-
-“Let’s find the gang and go down.”
-
-“All right. They’ll probably be at the café.”
-
-“Have you got tickets?”
-
-“Yes. I got them for all the unloadings.”
-
-“What’s it like?” He was pulling his cheek before the glass, looking to
-see if there were unshaved patches under the line of the jaw.
-
-“It’s pretty good,” I said. “They let the bulls out of the cages one at
-a time, and they have steers in the corral to receive them and keep them
-from fighting, and the bulls tear in at the steers and the steers run
-around like old maids trying to quiet them down.”
-
-“Do they ever gore the steers?”
-
-“Sure. Sometimes they go right after them and kill them.”
-
-“Can’t the steers do anything?”
-
-“No. They’re trying to make friends.”
-
-“What do they have them in for?”
-
-“To quiet down the bulls and keep them from breaking horns against the
-stone walls, or goring each other.”
-
-“Must be swell being a steer.”
-
-We went down the stairs and out of the door and walked across the square
-toward the Café Iruña. There were two lonely looking ticket-houses
-standing in the square. Their windows, marked SOL, SOL Y SOMBRA, and
-SOMBRA, were shut. They would not open until the day before the fiesta.
-
-Across the square the white wicker tables and chairs of the Iruña
-extended out beyond the Arcade to the edge of the street. I looked for
-Brett and Mike at the tables. There they were. Brett and Mike and Robert
-Cohn. Brett was wearing a Basque beret. So was Mike. Robert Cohn was
-bare-headed and wearing his spectacles. Brett saw us coming and waved.
-Her eyes crinkled up as we came up to the table.
-
-“Hello, you chaps!” she called.
-
-Brett was happy. Mike had a way of getting an intensity of feeling into
-shaking hands. Robert Cohn shook hands because we were back.
-
-“Where the hell have you been?” I asked.
-
-“I brought them up here,” Cohn said.
-
-“What rot,” Brett said. “We’d have gotten here earlier if you hadn’t
-come.”
-
-“You’d never have gotten here.”
-
-“What rot! You chaps are brown. Look at Bill.”
-
-“Did you get good fishing?” Mike asked. “We wanted to join you.”
-
-“It wasn’t bad. We missed you.”
-
-“I wanted to come,” Cohn said, “but I thought I ought to bring them.”
-
-“You bring us. What rot.”
-
-“Was it really good?” Mike asked. “Did you take many?”
-
-“Some days we took a dozen apiece. There was an Englishman up there.”
-
-“Named Harris,” Bill said. “Ever know him, Mike? He was in the war,
-too.”
-
-“Fortunate fellow,” Mike said. “What times we had. How I wish those dear
-days were back.”
-
-“Don’t be an ass.”
-
-“Were you in the war, Mike?” Cohn asked.
-
-“Was I not.”
-
-“He was a very distinguished soldier,” Brett said. “Tell them about the
-time your horse bolted down Piccadilly.”
-
-“I’ll not. I’ve told that four times.”
-
-“You never told me,” Robert Cohn said.
-
-“I’ll not tell that story. It reflects discredit on me.”
-
-“Tell them about your medals.”
-
-“I’ll not. That story reflects great discredit on me.”
-
-“What story’s that?”
-
-“Brett will tell you. She tells all the stories that reflect discredit
-on me.”
-
-“Go on. Tell it, Brett.”
-
-“Should I?”
-
-“I’ll tell it myself.”
-
-“What medals have you got, Mike?”
-
-“I haven’t got any medals.”
-
-“You must have some.”
-
-“I suppose I’ve the usual medals. But I never sent in for them. One time
-there was this wopping big dinner and the Prince of Wales was to be
-there, and the cards said medals will be worn. So naturally I had no
-medals, and I stopped at my tailor’s and he was impressed by the
-invitation, and I thought that’s a good piece of business, and I said to
-him: ‘You’ve got to fix me up with some medals.’ He said: ‘What medals,
-sir?’ And I said: ‘Oh, any medals. Just give me a few medals.’ So he
-said: ‘What medals _have_ you, sir?’ And I said: ‘How should I know?’
-Did he think I spent all my time reading the bloody gazette? ‘Just give
-me a good lot. Pick them out yourself.’ So he got me some medals, you
-know, miniature medals, and handed me the box, and I put it in my pocket
-and forgot it. Well, I went to the dinner, and it was the night they’d
-shot Henry Wilson, so the Prince didn’t come and the King didn’t come,
-and no one wore any medals, and all these coves were busy taking off
-their medals, and I had mine in my pocket.”
-
-He stopped for us to laugh.
-
-“Is that all?”
-
-“That’s all. Perhaps I didn’t tell it right.”
-
-“You didn’t,” said Brett. “But no matter.”
-
-We were all laughing.
-
-“Ah, yes,” said Mike. “I know now. It was a damn dull dinner, and I
-couldn’t stick it, so I left. Later on in the evening I found the box in
-my pocket. What’s this? I said. Medals? Bloody military medals? So I cut
-them all off their backing—you know, they put them on a strip—and gave
-them all around. Gave one to each girl. Form of souvenir. They thought I
-was hell’s own shakes of a soldier. Give away medals in a night club.
-Dashing fellow.”
-
-“Tell the rest,” Brett said.
-
-“Don’t you think that was funny?” Mike asked. We were all laughing. “It
-was. I swear it was. Any rate, my tailor wrote me and wanted the medals
-back. Sent a man around. Kept on writing for months. Seems some chap had
-left them to be cleaned. Frightfully military cove. Set hell’s own store
-by them.” Mike paused. “Rotten luck for the tailor,” he said.
-
-“You don’t mean it,” Bill said. “I should think it would have been grand
-for the tailor.”
-
-“Frightfully good tailor. Never believe it to see me now,” Mike said. “I
-used to pay him a hundred pounds a year just to keep him quiet. So he
-wouldn’t send me any bills. Frightful blow to him when I went bankrupt.
-It was right after the medals. Gave his letters rather a bitter tone.”
-
-“How did you go bankrupt?” Bill asked.
-
-“Two ways,” Mike said. “Gradually and then suddenly.”
-
-“What brought it on?”
-
-“Friends,” said Mike. “I had a lot of friends. False friends. Then I had
-creditors, too. Probably had more creditors than anybody in England.”
-
-“Tell them about in the court,” Brett said.
-
-“I don’t remember,” Mike said. “I was just a little tight.”
-
-“Tight!” Brett exclaimed. “You were blind!”
-
-“Extraordinary thing,” Mike said. “Met my former partner the other day.
-Offered to buy me a drink.”
-
-“Tell them about your learned counsel,” Brett said.
-
-“I will not,” Mike said. “My learned counsel was blind, too. I say this
-is a gloomy subject. Are we going down and see these bulls unloaded or
-not?”
-
-“Let’s go down.”
-
-We called the waiter, paid, and started to walk through the town. I
-started off walking with Brett, but Robert Cohn came up and joined her
-on the other side. The three of us walked along, past the Ayuntamiento
-with the banners hung from the balcony, down past the market and down
-past the steep street that led to the bridge across the Arga. There were
-many people walking to go and see the bulls, and carriages drove down
-the hill and across the bridge, the drivers, the horses, and the whips
-rising above the walking people in the street. Across the bridge we
-turned up a road to the corrals. We passed a wine-shop with a sign in
-the window: Good Wine 30 Centimes A Liter.
-
-“That’s where we’ll go when funds get low,” Brett said.
-
-The woman standing in the door of the wine-shop looked at us as we
-passed. She called to some one in the house and three girls came to the
-window and stared. They were staring at Brett.
-
-At the gate of the corrals two men took tickets from the people that
-went in. We went in through the gate. There were trees inside and a low,
-stone house. At the far end was the stone wall of the corrals, with
-apertures in the stone that were like loopholes running all along the
-face of each corral. A ladder led up to the top of the wall, and people
-were climbing up the ladder and spreading down to stand on the walls
-that separated the two corrals. As we came up the ladder, walking across
-the grass under the trees, we passed the big, gray painted cages with
-the bulls in them. There was one bull in each travelling-box. They had
-come by train from a bull-breeding ranch in Castile, and had been
-unloaded off flat-cars at the station and brought up here to be let out
-of their cages into the corrals. Each cage was stencilled with the name
-and the brand of the bull-breeder.
-
-We climbed up and found a place on the wall looking down into the
-corral. The stone walls were whitewashed, and there was straw on the
-ground and wooden feed-boxes and water-troughs set against the wall.
-
-“Look up there,” I said.
-
-Beyond the river rose the plateau of the town. All along the old walls
-and ramparts people were standing. The three lines of fortifications
-made three black lines of people. Above the walls there were heads in
-the windows of the houses. At the far end of the plateau boys had
-climbed into the trees.
-
-“They must think something is going to happen,” Brett said.
-
-“They want to see the bulls.”
-
-Mike and Bill were on the other wall across the pit of the corral. They
-waved to us. People who had come late were standing behind us, pressing
-against us when other people crowded them.
-
-“Why don’t they start?” Robert Cohn asked.
-
-A single mule was hitched to one of the cages and dragged it up against
-the gate in the corral wall. The men shoved and lifted it with crowbars
-into position against the gate. Men were standing on the wall ready to
-pull up the gate of the corral and then the gate of the cage. At the
-other end of the corral a gate opened and two steers came in, swaying
-their heads and trotting, their lean flanks swinging. They stood
-together at the far end, their heads toward the gate where the bull
-would enter.
-
-“They don’t look happy,” Brett said.
-
-The men on top of the wall leaned back and pulled up the door of the
-corral. Then they pulled up the door of the cage.
-
-I leaned way over the wall and tried to see into the cage. It was dark.
-Some one rapped on the cage with an iron bar. Inside something seemed to
-explode. The bull, striking into the wood from side to side with his
-horns, made a great noise. Then I saw a dark muzzle and the shadow of
-horns, and then, with a clattering on the wood in the hollow box, the
-bull charged and came out into the corral, skidding with his forefeet in
-the straw as he stopped, his head up, the great hump of muscle on his
-neck swollen tight, his body muscles quivering as he looked up at the
-crowd on the stone walls. The two steers backed away against the wall,
-their heads sunken, their eyes watching the bull.
-
-The bull saw them and charged. A man shouted from behind one of the
-boxes and slapped his hat against the planks, and the bull, before he
-reached the steer, turned, gathered himself and charged where the man
-had been, trying to reach him behind the planks with a half-dozen quick,
-searching drives with the right horn.
-
-“My God, isn’t he beautiful?” Brett said. We were looking right down on
-him.
-
-“Look how he knows how to use his horns,” I said. “He’s got a left and a
-right just like a boxer.”
-
-“Not really?”
-
-“You watch.”
-
-“It goes too fast.”
-
-“Wait. There’ll be another one in a minute.”
-
-They had backed up another cage into the entrance. In the far corner a
-man, from behind one of the plank shelters, attracted the bull, and
-while the bull was facing away the gate was pulled up and a second bull
-came out into the corral.
-
-He charged straight for the steers and two men ran out from behind the
-planks and shouted, to turn him. He did not change his direction and the
-men shouted: “Hah! Hah! Toro!” and waved their arms; the two steers
-turned sideways to take the shock, and the bull drove into one of the
-steers.
-
-“Don’t look,” I said to Brett. She was watching, fascinated.
-
-“Fine,” I said. “If it doesn’t buck you.”
-
-“I saw it,” she said. “I saw him shift from his left to his right horn.”
-
-“Damn good!”
-
-The steer was down now, his neck stretched out, his head twisted, he lay
-the way he had fallen. Suddenly the bull left off and made for the other
-steer which had been standing at the far end, his head swinging,
-watching it all. The steer ran awkwardly and the bull caught him, hooked
-him lightly in the flank, and then turned away and looked up at the
-crowd on the walls, his crest of muscle rising. The steer came up to him
-and made as though to nose at him and the bull hooked perfunctorily. The
-next time he nosed at the steer and then the two of them trotted over to
-the other bull.
-
-When the next bull came out, all three, the two bulls and the steer,
-stood together, their heads side by side, their horns against the
-newcomer. In a few minutes the steer picked the new bull up, quieted him
-down, and made him one of the herd. When the last two bulls had been
-unloaded the herd were all together.
-
-The steer who had been gored had gotten to his feet and stood against
-the stone wall. None of the bulls came near him, and he did not attempt
-to join the herd.
-
-We climbed down from the wall with the crowd, and had a last look at the
-bulls through the loopholes in the wall of the corral. They were all
-quiet now, their heads down. We got a carriage outside and rode up to
-the café. Mike and Bill came in half an hour later. They had stopped on
-the way for several drinks.
-
-We were sitting in the café.
-
-“That’s an extraordinary business,” Brett said.
-
-“Will those last ones fight as well as the first?” Robert Cohn asked.
-“They seemed to quiet down awfully fast.”
-
-“They all know each other,” I said. “They’re only dangerous when they’re
-alone, or only two or three of them together.”
-
-“What do you mean, dangerous?” Bill said. “They all looked dangerous to
-me.”
-
-“They only want to kill when they’re alone. Of course, if you went in
-there you’d probably detach one of them from the herd, and he’d be
-dangerous.”
-
-“That’s too complicated,” Bill said. “Don’t you ever detach me from the
-herd, Mike.”
-
-“I say,” Mike said, “they _were_ fine bulls, weren’t they? Did you see
-their horns?”
-
-“Did I not,” said Brett. “I had no idea what they were like.”
-
-“Did you see the one hit that steer?” Mike asked. “That was
-extraordinary.”
-
-“It’s no life being a steer,” Robert Cohn said.
-
-“Don’t you think so?” Mike said. “I would have thought you’d loved being
-a steer, Robert.”
-
-“What do you mean, Mike?”
-
-“They lead such a quiet life. They never say anything and they’re always
-hanging about so.”
-
-We were embarrassed. Bill laughed. Robert Cohn was angry. Mike went on
-talking.
-
-“I should think you’d love it. You’d never have to say a word. Come on,
-Robert. Do say something. Don’t just sit there.”
-
-“I said something, Mike. Don’t you remember? About the steers.”
-
-“Oh, say something more. Say something funny. Can’t you see we’re all
-having a good time here?”
-
-“Come off it, Michael. You’re drunk,” Brett said.
-
-“I’m not drunk. I’m quite serious. _Is_ Robert Cohn going to follow
-Brett around like a steer all the time?”
-
-“Shut up, Michael. Try and show a little breeding.”
-
-“Breeding be damned. Who has any breeding, anyway, except the bulls?
-Aren’t the bulls lovely? Don’t you like them, Bill? Why don’t you say
-something, Robert? Don’t sit there looking like a bloody funeral. What
-if Brett did sleep with you? She’s slept with lots of better people than
-you.”
-
-“Shut up,” Cohn said. He stood up. “Shut up, Mike.”
-
-“Oh, don’t stand up and act as though you were going to hit me. That
-won’t make any difference to me. Tell me, Robert. Why do you follow
-Brett around like a poor bloody steer? Don’t you know you’re not wanted?
-I know when I’m not wanted. Why don’t you know when you’re not wanted?
-You came down to San Sebastian where you weren’t wanted, and followed
-Brett around like a bloody steer. Do you think that’s right?”
-
-“Shut up. You’re drunk.”
-
-“Perhaps I am drunk. Why aren’t you drunk? Why don’t you ever get drunk,
-Robert? You know you didn’t have a good time at San Sebastian because
-none of our friends would invite you on any of the parties. You can’t
-blame them hardly. Can you? I asked them to. They wouldn’t do it. You
-can’t blame them, now. Can you? Now, answer me. Can you blame them?”
-
-“Go to hell, Mike.”
-
-“I can’t blame them. Can you blame them? Why do you follow Brett around?
-Haven’t you any manners? How do you think it makes _me_ feel?”
-
-“You’re a splendid one to talk about manners,” Brett said. “You’ve such
-lovely manners.”
-
-“Come on, Robert,” Bill said.
-
-“What do you follow her around for?”
-
-Bill stood up and took hold of Cohn.
-
-“Don’t go,” Mike said. “Robert Cohn’s going to buy a drink.”
-
-Bill went off with Cohn. Cohn’s face was sallow. Mike went on talking. I
-sat and listened for a while. Brett looked disgusted.
-
-“I say, Michael, you might not be such a bloody ass,” she interrupted.
-“I’m not saying he’s not right, you know.” She turned to me.
-
-The emotion left Mike’s voice. We were all friends together.
-
-“I’m not so damn drunk as I sounded,” he said.
-
-“I know you’re not,” Brett said.
-
-“We’re none of us sober,” I said.
-
-“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.”
-
-“But you put it so badly,” Brett laughed.
-
-“He was an ass, though. He came down to San Sebastian where he damn well
-wasn’t wanted. He hung around Brett and just _looked_ at her. It made me
-damned well sick.”
-
-“He did behave very badly,” Brett said.
-
-“Mark you. Brett’s had affairs with men before. She tells me all about
-everything. She gave me this chap Cohn’s letters to read. I wouldn’t
-read them.”
-
-“Damned noble of you.”
-
-“No, listen, Jake. Brett’s gone off with men. But they weren’t ever
-Jews, and they didn’t come and hang about afterward.”
-
-“Damned good chaps,” Brett said. “It’s all rot to talk about it. Michael
-and I understand each other.”
-
-“She gave me Robert Cohn’s letters. I wouldn’t read them.”
-
-“You wouldn’t read any letters, darling. You wouldn’t read mine.”
-
-“I can’t read letters,” Mike said. “Funny, isn’t it?”
-
-“You can’t read anything.”
-
-“No. You’re wrong there. I read quite a bit. I read when I’m at home.”
-
-“You’ll be writing next,” Brett said. “Come on, Michael. Do buck up.
-You’ve got to go through with this thing now. He’s here. Don’t spoil the
-fiesta.”
-
-“Well, let him behave, then.”
-
-“He’ll behave. I’ll tell him.”
-
-“You tell him, Jake. Tell him either he must behave or get out.”
-
-“Yes,” I said, “it would be nice for me to tell him.”
-
-“Look, Brett. Tell Jake what Robert calls you. That is perfect, you
-know.”
-
-“Oh, no. I can’t.”
-
-“Go on. We’re all friends. Aren’t we all friends, Jake?”
-
-“I can’t tell him. It’s too ridiculous.”
-
-“I’ll tell him.”
-
-“You won’t, Michael. Don’t be an ass.”
-
-“He calls her Circe,” Mike said. “He claims she turns men into swine.
-Damn good. I wish I were one of these literary chaps.”
-
-“He’d be good, you know,” Brett said. “He writes a good letter.”
-
-“I know,” I said. “He wrote me from San Sebastian.”
-
-“That was nothing,” Brett said. “He can write a damned amusing letter.”
-
-“She made me write that. She was supposed to be ill.”
-
-“I damned well was, too.”
-
-“Come on,” I said, “we must go in and eat.”
-
-“How should I meet Cohn?” Mike said.
-
-“Just act as though nothing had happened.”
-
-“It’s quite all right with me,” Mike said. “I’m not embarrassed.”
-
-“If he says anything, just say you were tight.”
-
-“Quite. And the funny thing is I think I was tight.”
-
-“Come on,” Brett said. “Are these poisonous things paid for? I must
-bathe before dinner.”
-
-We walked across the square. It was dark and all around the square were
-the lights from the cafés under the arcades. We walked across the gravel
-under the trees to the hotel.
-
-They went up-stairs and I stopped to speak with Montoya.
-
-“Well, how did you like the bulls?” he asked.
-
-“Good. They were nice bulls.”
-
-“They’re all right”—Montoya shook his head—“but they’re not too good.”
-
-“What didn’t you like about them?”
-
-“I don’t know. They just didn’t give me the feeling that they were so
-good.”
-
-“I know what you mean.”
-
-“They’re all right.”
-
-“Yes. They’re all right.”
-
-“How did your friends like them?”
-
-“Fine.”
-
-“Good,” Montoya said.
-
-I went up-stairs. Bill was in his room standing on the balcony looking
-out at the square. I stood beside him.
-
-“Where’s Cohn?”
-
-“Up-stairs in his room.”
-
-“How does he feel?”
-
-“Like hell, naturally. Mike was awful. He’s terrible when he’s tight.”
-
-“He wasn’t so tight.”
-
-“The hell he wasn’t. I know what we had before we came to the café.”
-
-“He sobered up afterward.”
-
-“Good. He was terrible. I don’t like Cohn, God knows, and I think it was
-a silly trick for him to go down to San Sebastian, but nobody has any
-business to talk like Mike.”
-
-“How’d you like the bulls?”
-
-“Grand. It’s grand the way they bring them out.”
-
-“To-morrow come the Miuras.”
-
-“When does the fiesta start?”
-
-“Day after to-morrow.”
-
-“We’ve got to keep Mike from getting so tight. That kind of stuff is
-terrible.”
-
-“We’d better get cleaned up for supper.”
-
-“Yes. That will be a pleasant meal.”
-
-“Won’t it?”
-
-As a matter of fact, supper was a pleasant meal. Brett wore a black,
-sleeveless evening dress. She looked quite beautiful. Mike acted as
-though nothing had happened. I had to go up and bring Robert Cohn down.
-He was reserved and formal, and his face was still taut and sallow, but
-he cheered up finally. He could not stop looking at Brett. It seemed to
-make him happy. It must have been pleasant for him to see her looking so
-lovely, and know he had been away with her and that every one knew it.
-They could not take that away from him. Bill was very funny. So was
-Michael. They were good together.
-
-It was like certain dinners I remember from the war. There was much
-wine, an ignored tension, and a feeling of things coming that you could
-not prevent happening. Under the wine I lost the disgusted feeling and
-was happy. It seemed they were all such nice people.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 14
-
-
-I do not know what time I got to bed. I remember undressing, putting on
-a bathrobe, and standing out on the balcony. I knew I was quite drunk,
-and when I came in I put on the light over the head of the bed and
-started to read. I was reading a book by Turgenieff. Probably I read the
-same two pages over several times. It was one of the stories in “A
-Sportsman’s Sketches.” I had read it before, but it seemed quite new.
-The country became very clear and the feeling of pressure in my head
-seemed to loosen. I was very drunk and I did not want to shut my eyes
-because the room would go round and round. If I kept on reading that
-feeling would pass.
-
-I heard Brett and Robert Cohn come up the stairs. Cohn said good night
-outside the door and went on up to his room. I heard Brett go into the
-room next door. Mike was already in bed. He had come in with me an hour
-before. He woke as she came in, and they talked together. I heard them
-laugh. I turned off the light and tried to go to sleep. It was not
-necessary to read any more. I could shut my eyes without getting the
-wheeling sensation. But I could not sleep. There is no reason why
-because it is dark you should look at things differently from when it is
-light. The hell there isn’t!
-
-I figured that all out once, and for six months I never slept with the
-electric light off. That was another bright idea. To hell with women,
-anyway. To hell with you, Brett Ashley.
-
-Women made such swell friends. Awfully swell. In the first place, you
-had to be in love with a woman to have a basis of friendship. I had been
-having Brett for a friend. I had not been thinking about her side of it.
-I had been getting something for nothing. That only delayed the
-presentation of the bill. The bill always came. That was one of the
-swell things you could count on.
-
-I thought I had paid for everything. Not like the woman pays and pays
-and pays. No idea of retribution or punishment. Just exchange of values.
-You gave up something and got something else. Or you worked for
-something. You paid some way for everything that was any good. I paid my
-way into enough things that I liked, so that I had a good time. Either
-you paid by learning about them, or by experience, or by taking chances,
-or by money. Enjoying living was learning to get your money’s worth and
-knowing when you had it. You could get your money’s worth. The world was
-a good place to buy in. It seemed like a fine philosophy. In five years,
-I thought, it will seem just as silly as all the other fine philosophies
-I’ve had.
-
-Perhaps that wasn’t true, though. Perhaps as you went along you did
-learn something. I did not care what it was all about. All I wanted to
-know was how to live in it. Maybe if you found out how to live in it you
-learned from that what it was all about.
-
-I wished Mike would not behave so terribly to Cohn, though. Mike was a
-bad drunk. Brett was a good drunk. Bill was a good drunk. Cohn was never
-drunk. Mike was unpleasant after he passed a certain point. I liked to
-see him hurt Cohn. I wished he would not do it, though, because
-afterward it made me disgusted at myself. That was morality; things that
-made you disgusted afterward. No, that must be immorality. That was a
-large statement. What a lot of bilge I could think up at night. What
-rot, I could hear Brett say it. What rot! When you were with English you
-got into the habit of using English expressions in your thinking. The
-English spoken language—the upper classes, anyway—must have fewer
-words than the Eskimo. Of course I didn’t know anything about the
-Eskimo. Maybe the Eskimo was a fine language. Say the Cherokee. I didn’t
-know anything about the Cherokee, either. The English talked with
-inflected phrases. One phrase to mean everything. I liked them, though.
-I liked the way they talked. Take Harris. Still Harris was not the upper
-classes.
-
-I turned on the light again and read. I read the Turgenieff. I knew that
-now, reading it in the oversensitized state of my mind after much too
-much brandy, I would remember it somewhere, and afterward it would seem
-as though it had really happened to me. I would always have it. That was
-another good thing you paid for and then had. Some time along toward
-daylight I went to sleep.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The next two days in Pamplona were quiet, and there were no more rows.
-The town was getting ready for the fiesta. Workmen put up the gate-posts
-that were to shut off the side streets when the bulls were released from
-the corrals and came running through the streets in the morning on their
-way to the ring. The workmen dug holes and fitted in the timbers, each
-timber numbered for its regular place. Out on the plateau beyond the
-town employees of the bull-ring exercised picador horses, galloping them
-stiff-legged on the hard, sun-baked fields behind the bull-ring. The big
-gate of the bull-ring was open, and inside the amphitheatre was being
-swept. The ring was rolled and sprinkled, and carpenters replaced
-weakened or cracked planks in the barrera. Standing at the edge of the
-smooth rolled sand you could look up in the empty stands and see old
-women sweeping out the boxes.
-
-Outside, the fence that led from the last street of the town to the
-entrance of the bull-ring was already in place and made a long pen; the
-crowd would come running down with the bulls behind them on the morning
-of the day of the first bull-fight. Out across the plain, where the
-horse and cattle fair would be, some gypsies had camped under the trees.
-The wine and aguardiente sellers were putting up their booths. One booth
-advertised =ANIS DEL TORO=. The cloth sign hung against the
-planks in the hot sun. In the big square that was the centre of the town
-there was no change yet. We sat in the white wicker chairs on the
-terrasse of the café and watched the motor-buses come in and unload
-peasants from the country coming in to the market, and we watched the
-buses fill up and start out with peasants sitting with their saddle-bags
-full of the things they had bought in the town. The tall gray
-motor-buses were the only life of the square except for the pigeons and
-the man with a hose who sprinkled the gravelled square and watered the
-streets.
-
-In the evening was the paseo. For an hour after dinner every one, all
-the good-looking girls, the officers from the garrison, all the
-fashionable people of the town, walked in the street on one side of the
-square while the café tables filled with the regular after-dinner crowd.
-
-During the morning I usually sat in the café and read the Madrid papers
-and then walked in the town or out into the country. Sometimes Bill went
-along. Sometimes he wrote in his room. Robert Cohn spent the mornings
-studying Spanish or trying to get a shave at the barber-shop. Brett and
-Mike never got up until noon. We all had a vermouth at the café. It was
-a quiet life and no one was drunk. I went to church a couple of times,
-once with Brett. She said she wanted to hear me go to confession, but I
-told her that not only was it impossible but it was not as interesting
-as it sounded, and, besides, it would be in a language she did not know.
-We met Cohn as we came out of church, and although it was obvious he had
-followed us, yet he was very pleasant and nice, and we all three went
-for a walk out to the gypsy camp, and Brett had her fortune told.
-
-It was a good morning, there were high white clouds above the mountains.
-It had rained a little in the night and it was fresh and cool on the
-plateau, and there was a wonderful view. We all felt good and we felt
-healthy, and I felt quite friendly to Cohn. You could not be upset about
-anything on a day like that.
-
-That was the last day before the fiesta.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 15
-
-
-At noon of Sunday, the 6th of July, the fiesta exploded. There is no
-other way to describe it. People had been coming in all day from the
-country, but they were assimilated in the town and you did not notice
-them. The square was as quiet in the hot sun as on any other day. The
-peasants were in the outlying wine-shops. There they were drinking,
-getting ready for the fiesta. They had come in so recently from the
-plains and the hills that it was necessary that they make their shifting
-in values gradually. They could not start in paying café prices. They
-got their money’s worth in the wine-shops. Money still had a definite
-value in hours worked and bushels of grain sold. Late in the fiesta it
-would not matter what they paid, nor where they bought.
-
-Now on the day of the starting of the fiesta of San Fermin they had been
-in the wine-shops of the narrow streets of the town since early morning.
-Going down the streets in the morning on the way to mass in the
-cathedral, I heard them singing through the open doors of the shops.
-They were warming up. There were many people at the eleven o’clock mass.
-San Fermin is also a religious festival.
-
-I walked down the hill from the cathedral and up the street to the café
-on the square. It was a little before noon. Robert Cohn and Bill were
-sitting at one of the tables. The marble-topped tables and the white
-wicker chairs were gone. They were replaced by cast-iron tables and
-severe folding chairs. The café was like a battleship stripped for
-action. To-day the waiters did not leave you alone all morning to read
-without asking if you wanted to order something. A waiter came up as
-soon as I sat down.
-
-“What are you drinking?” I asked Bill and Robert.
-
-“Sherry,” Cohn said.
-
-“Jerez,” I said to the waiter.
-
-Before the waiter brought the sherry the rocket that announced the
-fiesta went up in the square. It burst and there was a gray ball of
-smoke high up above the Theatre Gayarre, across on the other side of the
-plaza. The ball of smoke hung in the sky like a shrapnel burst, and as I
-watched, another rocket came up to it, trickling smoke in the bright
-sunlight. I saw the bright flash as it burst and another little cloud of
-smoke appeared. By the time the second rocket had burst there were so
-many people in the arcade, that had been empty a minute before, that the
-waiter, holding the bottle high up over his head, could hardly get
-through the crowd to our table. People were coming into the square from
-all sides, and down the street we heard the pipes and the fifes and the
-drums coming. They were playing the _riau-riau_ music, the pipes shrill
-and the drums pounding, and behind them came the men and boys dancing.
-When the fifers stopped they all crouched down in the street, and when
-the reed-pipes and the fifes shrilled, and the flat, dry, hollow drums
-tapped it out again, they all went up in the air dancing. In the crowd
-you saw only the heads and shoulders of the dancers going up and down.
-
-In the square a man, bent over, was playing on a reed-pipe, and a crowd
-of children were following him shouting, and pulling at his clothes. He
-came out of the square, the children following him, and piped them past
-the café and down a side street. We saw his blank pockmarked face as he
-went by, piping, the children close behind him shouting and pulling at
-him.
-
-“He must be the village idiot,” Bill said. “My God! look at that!”
-
-Down the street came dancers. The street was solid with dancers, all
-men. They were all dancing in time behind their own fifers and drummers.
-They were a club of some sort, and all wore workmen’s blue smocks, and
-red handkerchiefs around their necks, and carried a great banner on two
-poles. The banner danced up and down with them as they came down
-surrounded by the crowd.
-
-“Hurray for Wine! Hurray for the Foreigners!” was painted on the banner.
-
-“Where are the foreigners?” Robert Cohn asked.
-
-“We’re the foreigners,” Bill said.
-
-All the time rockets were going up. The café tables were all full now.
-The square was emptying of people and the crowd was filling the cafés.
-
-“Where’s Brett and Mike?” Bill asked.
-
-“I’ll go and get them,” Cohn said.
-
-“Bring them here.”
-
-The fiesta was really started. It kept up day and night for seven days.
-The dancing kept up, the drinking kept up, the noise went on. The things
-that happened could only have happened during a fiesta. Everything
-became quite unreal finally and it seemed as though nothing could have
-any consequences. It seemed out of place to think of consequences during
-the fiesta. All during the fiesta you had the feeling, even when it was
-quiet, that you had to shout any remark to make it heard. It was the
-same feeling about any action. It was a fiesta and it went on for seven
-days.
-
-That afternoon was the big religious procession. San Fermin was
-translated from one church to another. In the procession were all the
-dignitaries, civil and religious. We could not see them because the
-crowd was too great. Ahead of the formal procession and behind it danced
-the _riau-riau_ dancers. There was one mass of yellow shirts dancing up
-and down in the crowd. All we could see of the procession through the
-closely pressed people that crowded all the side streets and curbs were
-the great giants, cigar-store Indians, thirty feet high, Moors, a King
-and Queen, whirling and waltzing solemnly to the _riau-riau_.
-
-They were all standing outside the chapel where San Fermin and the
-dignitaries had passed in, leaving a guard of soldiers, the giants, with
-the men who danced in them standing beside their resting frames, and the
-dwarfs moving with their whacking bladders through the crowd. We started
-inside and there was a smell of incense and people filing back into the
-church, but Brett was stopped just inside the door because she had no
-hat, so we went out again and along the street that ran back from the
-chapel into town. The street was lined on both sides with people keeping
-their place at the curb for the return of the procession. Some dancers
-formed a circle around Brett and started to dance. They wore big wreaths
-of white garlics around their necks. They took Bill and me by the arms
-and put us in the circle. Bill started to dance, too. They were all
-chanting. Brett wanted to dance but they did not want her to. They
-wanted her as an image to dance around. When the song ended with the
-sharp _riau-riau!_ they rushed us into a wine-shop.
-
-We stood at the counter. They had Brett seated on a wine-cask. It was
-dark in the wine-shop and full of men singing, hard-voiced singing. Back
-of the counter they drew the wine from casks. I put down money for the
-wine, but one of the men picked it up and put it back in my pocket.
-
-“I want a leather wine-bottle,” Bill said.
-
-“There’s a place down the street,” I said. “I’ll go get a couple.”
-
-The dancers did not want me to go out. Three of them were sitting on the
-high wine-cask beside Brett, teaching her to drink out of the
-wine-skins. They had hung a wreath of garlics around her neck. Some one
-insisted on giving her a glass. Somebody was teaching Bill a song.
-Singing it into his ear. Beating time on Bill’s back.
-
-I explained to them that I would be back. Outside in the street I went
-down the street looking for the shop that made leather wine-bottles. The
-crowd was packed on the sidewalks and many of the shops were shuttered,
-and I could not find it. I walked as far as the church, looking on both
-sides of the street. Then I asked a man and he took me by the arm and
-led me to it. The shutters were up but the door was open.
-
-Inside it smelled of fresh tanned leather and hot tar. A man was
-stencilling completed wine-skins. They hung from the roof in bunches. He
-took one down, blew it up, screwed the nozzle tight, and then jumped on
-it
-
-“See! It doesn’t leak.”
-
-“I want another one, too. A big one.”
-
-He took down a big one that would hold a gallon or more, from the roof.
-He blew it up, his cheeks puffing ahead of the wine-skin, and stood on
-the bota holding on to a chair.
-
-“What are you going to do? Sell them in Bayonne?”
-
-“No. Drink out of them.”
-
-He slapped me on the back.
-
-“Good man. Eight pesetas for the two. The lowest price.”
-
-The man who was stencilling the new ones and tossing them into a pile
-stopped.
-
-“It’s true,” he said. “Eight pesetas is cheap.”
-
-I paid and went out and along the street back to the wine-shop. It was
-darker than ever inside and very crowded. I did not see Brett and Bill,
-and some one said they were in the back room. At the counter the girl
-filled the two wine-skins for me. One held two litres. The other held
-five litres. Filling them both cost three pesetas sixty centimos. Some
-one at the counter, that I had never seen before, tried to pay for the
-wine, but I finally paid for it myself. The man who had wanted to pay
-then bought me a drink. He would not let me buy one in return, but said
-he would take a rinse of the mouth from the new wine-bag. He tipped the
-big five-litre bag up and squeezed it so the wine hissed against the
-back of his throat.
-
-“All right,” he said, and handed back the bag.
-
-In the back room Brett and Bill were sitting on barrels surrounded by
-the dancers. Everybody had his arms on everybody else’s shoulders, and
-they were all singing. Mike was sitting at a table with several men in
-their shirt-sleeves, eating from a bowl of tuna fish, chopped onions and
-vinegar. They were all drinking wine and mopping up the oil and vinegar
-with pieces of bread.
-
-“Hello, Jake. Hello!” Mike called. “Come here. I want you to meet my
-friends. We’re all having an hors-d’œuvre.”
-
-I was introduced to the people at the table. They supplied their names
-to Mike and sent for a fork for me.
-
-“Stop eating their dinner, Michael,” Brett shouted from the
-wine-barrels.
-
-“I don’t want to eat up your meal,” I said when some one handed me a
-fork.
-
-“Eat,” he said. “What do you think it’s here for?”
-
-I unscrewed the nozzle of the big wine-bottle and handed it around.
-Every one took a drink, tipping the wine-skin at arm’s length.
-
-Outside, above the singing, we could hear the music of the procession
-going by.
-
-“Isn’t that the procession?” Mike asked.
-
-“Nada,” some one said. “It’s nothing. Drink up. Lift the bottle.”
-
-“Where did they find you?” I asked Mike.
-
-“Some one brought me here,” Mike said. “They said you were here.”
-
-“Where’s Cohn?”
-
-“He’s passed out,” Brett called. “They’ve put him away somewhere.”
-
-“Where is he?”
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“How should we know,” Bill said. “I think he’s dead.”
-
-“He’s not dead,” Mike said. “I know he’s not dead. He’s just passed out
-on Anis del Mono.”
-
-As he said Anis del Mono one of the men at the table looked up, brought
-out a bottle from inside his smock, and handed it to me.
-
-“No,” I said. “No, thanks!”
-
-“Yes. Yes. Arriba! Up with the bottle!”
-
-I took a drink. It tasted of licorice and warmed all the way. I could
-feel it warming in my stomach.
-
-“Where the hell is Cohn?”
-
-“I don’t know,” Mike said. “I’ll ask. Where is the drunken comrade?” he
-asked in Spanish.
-
-“You want to see him?”
-
-“Yes,” I said.
-
-“Not me,” said Mike. “This gent.”
-
-The Anis del Mono man wiped his mouth and stood up.
-
-“Come on.”
-
-In a back room Robert Cohn was sleeping quietly on some wine-casks. It
-was almost too dark to see his face. They had covered him with a coat
-and another coat was folded under his head. Around his neck and on his
-chest was a big wreath of twisted garlics.
-
-“Let him sleep,” the man whispered. “He’s all right.”
-
-Two hours later Cohn appeared. He came into the front room still with
-the wreath of garlics around his neck. The Spaniards shouted when he
-came in. Cohn wiped his eyes and grinned.
-
-“I must have been sleeping,” he said.
-
-“Oh, not at all,” Brett said.
-
-“You were only dead,” Bill said.
-
-“Aren’t we going to go and have some supper?” Cohn asked.
-
-“Do you want to eat?”
-
-“Yes. Why not? I’m hungry.”
-
-“Eat those garlics, Robert,” Mike said. “I say. Do eat those garlics.”
-
-Cohn stood there. His sleep had made him quite all right.
-
-“Do let’s go and eat,” Brett said. “I must get a bath.”
-
-“Come on,” Bill said. “Let’s translate Brett to the hotel.”
-
-We said good-bye to many people and shook hands with many people and
-went out. Outside it was dark.
-
-“What time is it do you suppose?” Cohn asked.
-
-“It’s to-morrow,” Mike said. “You’ve been asleep two days.”
-
-“No,” said Cohn, “what time is it?”
-
-“It’s ten o’clock.”
-
-“What a lot we’ve drunk.”
-
-“You mean what a lot _we’ve_ drunk. You went to sleep.”
-
-Going down the dark streets to the hotel we saw the sky-rockets going up
-in the square. Down the side streets that led to the square we saw the
-square solid with people, those in the centre all dancing.
-
-It was a big meal at the hotel. It was the first meal of the prices
-being doubled for the fiesta, and there were several new courses. After
-the dinner we were out in the town. I remember resolving that I would
-stay up all night to watch the bulls go through the streets at six
-o’clock in the morning, and being so sleepy that I went to bed around
-four o’clock. The others stayed up.
-
-My own room was locked and I could not find the key, so I went up-stairs
-and slept on one of the beds in Cohn’s room. The fiesta was going on
-outside in the night, but I was too sleepy for it to keep me awake. When
-I woke it was the sound of the rocket exploding that announced the
-release of the bulls from the corrals at the edge of town. They would
-race through the streets and out to the bull-ring. I had been sleeping
-heavily and I woke feeling I was too late. I put on a coat of Cohn’s and
-went out on the balcony. Down below the narrow street was empty. All the
-balconies were crowded with people. Suddenly a crowd came down the
-street. They were all running, packed close together. They passed along
-and up the street toward the bull-ring and behind them came more men
-running faster, and then some stragglers who were really running. Behind
-them was a little bare space, and then the bulls galloping, tossing
-their heads up and down. It all went out of sight around the corner. One
-man fell, rolled to the gutter, and lay quiet. But the bulls went right
-on and did not notice him. They were all running together.
-
-After they went out of sight a great roar came from the bull-ring. It
-kept on. Then finally the pop of the rocket that meant the bulls had
-gotten through the people in the ring and into the corrals. I went back
-in the room and got into bed. I had been standing on the stone balcony
-in bare feet. I knew our crowd must have all been out at the bull-ring.
-Back in bed, I went to sleep.
-
-Cohn woke me when he came in. He started to undress and went over and
-closed the window because the people on the balcony of the house just
-across the street were looking in.
-
-“Did you see the show?” I asked.
-
-“Yes. We were all there.”
-
-“Anybody get hurt?”
-
-“One of the bulls got into the crowd in the ring and tossed six or eight
-people.”
-
-“How did Brett like it?”
-
-“It was all so sudden there wasn’t any time for it to bother anybody.”
-
-“I wish I’d been up.”
-
-“We didn’t know where you were. We went to your room but it was locked.”
-
-“Where did you stay up?”
-
-“We danced at some club.”
-
-“I got sleepy,” I said.
-
-“My gosh! I’m sleepy now,” Cohn said. “Doesn’t this thing ever stop?”
-
-“Not for a week.”
-
-Bill opened the door and put his head in.
-
-“Where were you, Jake?”
-
-“I saw them go through from the balcony. How was it?”
-
-“Grand.”
-
-“Where you going?”
-
-“To sleep.”
-
-No one was up before noon. We ate at tables set out under the arcade.
-The town was full of people. We had to wait for a table. After lunch we
-went over to the Iruña. It had filled up, and as the time for the
-bull-fight came it got fuller, and the tables were crowded closer. There
-was a close, crowded hum that came every day before the bull-fight. The
-café did not make this same noise at any other time, no matter how
-crowded it was. This hum went on, and we were in it and a part of it.
-
-I had taken six seats for all the fights. Three of them were barreras,
-the first row at the ring-side, and three were sobrepuertos, seats with
-wooden backs, half-way up the amphitheatre. Mike thought Brett had best
-sit high up for her first time, and Cohn wanted to sit with them. Bill
-and I were going to sit in the barreras, and I gave the extra ticket to
-a waiter to sell. Bill said something to Cohn about what to do and how
-to look so he would not mind the horses. Bill had seen one season of
-bull-fights.
-
-“I’m not worried about how I’ll stand it. I’m only afraid I may be
-bored,” Cohn said.
-
-“You think so?”
-
-“Don’t look at the horses, after the bull hits them,” I said to Brett.
-“Watch the charge and see the picador try and keep the bull off, but
-then don’t look again until the horse is dead if it’s been hit.”
-
-“I’m a little nervy about it,” Brett said. “I’m worried whether I’ll be
-able to go through with it all right.”
-
-“You’ll be all right. There’s nothing but that horse part that will
-bother you, and they’re only in for a few minutes with each bull. Just
-don’t watch when it’s bad.”
-
-“She’ll be all right,” Mike said. “I’ll look after her.”
-
-“I don’t think you’ll be bored,” Bill said.
-
-“I’m going over to the hotel to get the glasses and the wine-skin,” I
-said. “See you back here. Don’t get cock-eyed.”
-
-“I’ll come along,” Bill said. Brett smiled at us.
-
-We walked around through the arcade to avoid the heat of the square.
-
-“That Cohn gets me,” Bill said. “He’s got this Jewish superiority so
-strong that he thinks the only emotion he’ll get out of the fight will
-be being bored.”
-
-“We’ll watch him with the glasses,” I said.
-
-“Oh, to hell with him!”
-
-“He spends a lot of time there.”
-
-“I want him to stay there.”
-
-In the hotel on the stairs we met Montoya.
-
-“Come on,” said Montoya. “Do you want to meet Pedro Romero?”
-
-“Fine,” said Bill. “Let’s go see him.”
-
-We followed Montoya up a flight and down the corridor.
-
-“He’s in room number eight,” Montoya explained. “He’s getting dressed
-for the bull-fight.”
-
-Montoya knocked on the door and opened it. It was a gloomy room with a
-little light coming in from the window on the narrow street. There were
-two beds separated by a monastic partition. The electric light was on.
-The boy stood very straight and unsmiling in his bull-fighting clothes.
-His jacket hung over the back of a chair. They were just finishing
-winding his sash. His black hair shone under the electric light. He wore
-a white linen shirt and the sword-handler finished his sash and stood up
-and stepped back. Pedro Romero nodded, seeming very far away and
-dignified when we shook hands. Montoya said something about what great
-aficionados we were, and that we wanted to wish him luck. Romero
-listened very seriously. Then he turned to me. He was the best-looking
-boy I have ever seen.
-
-“You go to the bull-fight,” he said in English.
-
-“You know English,” I said, feeling like an idiot.
-
-“No,” he answered, and smiled.
-
-One of three men who had been sitting on the beds came up and asked us
-if we spoke French. “Would you like me to interpret for you? Is there
-anything you would like to ask Pedro Romero?”
-
-We thanked him. What was there that you would like to ask? The boy was
-nineteen years old, alone except for his sword-handler, and the three
-hangers-on, and the bull-fight was to commence in twenty minutes. We
-wished him “Mucha suerte,” shook hands, and went out. He was standing,
-straight and handsome and altogether by himself, alone in the room with
-the hangers-on as we shut the door.
-
-“He’s a fine boy, don’t you think so?” Montoya asked.
-
-“He’s a good-looking kid,” I said.
-
-“He looks like a torero,” Montoya said. “He has the type.”
-
-“He’s a fine boy.”
-
-“We’ll see how he is in the ring,” Montoya said.
-
-We found the big leather wine-bottle leaning against the wall in my
-room, took it and the field-glasses, locked the door, and went
-down-stairs.
-
-It was a good bull-fight. Bill and I were very excited about Pedro
-Romero. Montoya was sitting about ten places away. After Romero had
-killed his first bull Montoya caught my eye and nodded his head. This
-was a real one. There had not been a real one for a long time. Of the
-other two matadors, one was very fair and the other was passable. But
-there was no comparison with Romero, although neither of his bulls was
-much.
-
-Several times during the bull-fight I looked up at Mike and Brett and
-Cohn, with the glasses. They seemed to be all right. Brett did not look
-upset. All three were leaning forward on the concrete railing in front
-of them.
-
-“Let me take the glasses,” Bill said.
-
-“Does Cohn look bored?” I asked.
-
-“That kike!”
-
-Outside the ring, after the bull-fight was over, you could not move in
-the crowd. We could not make our way through but had to be moved with
-the whole thing, slowly, as a glacier, back to town. We had that
-disturbed emotional feeling that always comes after a bull-fight, and
-the feeling of elation that comes after a good bull-fight. The fiesta
-was going on. The drums pounded and the pipe music was shrill, and
-everywhere the flow of the crowd was broken by patches of dancers. The
-dancers were in a crowd, so you did not see the intricate play of the
-feet. All you saw was the heads and shoulders going up and down, up and
-down. Finally, we got out of the crowd and made for the café. The waiter
-saved chairs for the others, and we each ordered an absinthe and watched
-the crowd in the square and the dancers.
-
-“What do you suppose that dance is?” Bill asked.
-
-“It’s a sort of jota.”
-
-“They’re not all the same,” Bill said. “They dance differently to all
-the different tunes.”
-
-“It’s swell dancing.”
-
-In front of us on a clear part of the street a company of boys were
-dancing. The steps were very intricate and their faces were intent and
-concentrated. They all looked down while they danced. Their rope-soled
-shoes tapped and spatted on the pavement. The toes touched. The heels
-touched. The balls of the feet touched. Then the music broke wildly and
-the step was finished and they were all dancing on up the street.
-
-“Here come the gentry,” Bill said.
-
-They were crossing the street
-
-“Hello, men,” I said.
-
-“Hello, gents!” said Brett. “You saved us seats? How nice.”
-
-“I say,” Mike said, “that Romero what’shisname is somebody. Am I wrong?”
-
-“Oh, isn’t he lovely,” Brett said. “And those green trousers.”
-
-“Brett never took her eyes off them.”
-
-“I say, I must borrow your glasses to-morrow.”
-
-“How did it go?”
-
-“Wonderfully! Simply perfect. I say, it is a spectacle!”
-
-“How about the horses?”
-
-“I couldn’t help looking at them.”
-
-“She couldn’t take her eyes off them,” Mike said. “She’s an
-extraordinary wench.”
-
-“They do have some rather awful things happen to them,” Brett said. “I
-couldn’t look away, though.”
-
-“Did you feel all right?”
-
-“I didn’t feel badly at all.”
-
-“Robert Cohn did,” Mike put in. “You were quite green, Robert.”
-
-“The first horse did bother me,” Cohn said.
-
-“You weren’t bored, were you?” asked Bill.
-
-Cohn laughed.
-
-“No. I wasn’t bored. I wish you’d forgive me that.”
-
-“It’s all right,” Bill said, “so long as you weren’t bored.”
-
-“He didn’t look bored,” Mike said. “I thought he was going to be sick.”
-
-“I never felt that bad. It was just for a minute.”
-
-“I thought he was going to be sick. You weren’t bored, were you,
-Robert?”
-
-“Let up on that, Mike. I said I was sorry I said it.”
-
-“He was, you know. He was positively green.”
-
-“Oh, shove it along, Michael.”
-
-“You mustn’t ever get bored at your first bull-fight, Robert,” Mike
-said. “It might make such a mess.”
-
-“Oh, shove it along, Michael,” Brett said.
-
-“He said Brett was a sadist,” Mike said. “Brett’s not a sadist. She’s
-just a lovely, healthy wench.”
-
-“Are you a sadist, Brett?” I asked.
-
-“Hope not.”
-
-“He said Brett was a sadist just because she has a good, healthy
-stomach.”
-
-“Won’t be healthy long.”
-
-Bill got Mike started on something else than Cohn. The waiter brought
-the absinthe glasses.
-
-“Did you really like it?” Bill asked Cohn.
-
-“No, I can’t say I liked it. I think it’s a wonderful show.”
-
-“Gad, yes! What a spectacle!” Brett said.
-
-“I wish they didn’t have the horse part,” Cohn said.
-
-“They’re not important,” Bill said. “After a while you never notice
-anything disgusting.”
-
-“It is a bit strong just at the start,” Brett said. “There’s a dreadful
-moment for me just when the bull starts for the horse.”
-
-“The bulls were fine,” Cohn said.
-
-“They were very good,” Mike said.
-
-“I want to sit down below, next time.” Brett drank from her glass of
-absinthe.
-
-“She wants to see the bull-fighters close by,” Mike said.
-
-“They are something,” Brett said. “That Romero lad is just a child.”
-
-“He’s a damned good-looking boy,” I said. “When we were up in his room I
-never saw a better-looking kid.”
-
-“How old do you suppose he is?”
-
-“Nineteen or twenty.”
-
-“Just imagine it.”
-
-The bull-fight on the second day was much better than on the first.
-Brett sat between Mike and me at the barrera, and Bill and Cohn went up
-above. Romero was the whole show. I do not think Brett saw any other
-bull-fighter. No one else did either, except the hard-shelled
-technicians. It was all Romero. There were two other matadors, but they
-did not count. I sat beside Brett and explained to Brett what it was all
-about. I told her about watching the bull, not the horse, when the bulls
-charged the picadors, and got her to watching the picador place the
-point of his pic so that she saw what it was all about, so that it
-became more something that was going on with a definite end, and less of
-a spectacle with unexplained horrors. I had her watch how Romero took
-the bull away from a fallen horse with his cape, and how he held him
-with the cape and turned him, smoothly and suavely, never wasting the
-bull. She saw how Romero avoided every brusque movement and saved his
-bulls for the last when he wanted them, not winded and discomposed but
-smoothly worn down. She saw how close Romero always worked to the bull,
-and I pointed out to her the tricks the other bull-fighters used to make
-it look as though they were working closely. She saw why she liked
-Romero’s cape-work and why she did not like the others.
-
-Romero never made any contortions, always it was straight and pure and
-natural in line. The others twisted themselves like corkscrews, their
-elbows raised, and leaned against the flanks of the bull after his horns
-had passed, to give a faked look of danger. Afterward, all that was
-faked turned bad and gave an unpleasant feeling. Romero’s bull-fighting
-gave real emotion, because he kept the absolute purity of line in his
-movements and always quietly and calmly let the horns pass him close
-each time. He did not have to emphasize their closeness. Brett saw how
-something that was beautiful done close to the bull was ridiculous if it
-were done a little way off. I told her how since the death of Joselito
-all the bull-fighters had been developing a technic that simulated this
-appearance of danger in order to give a fake emotional feeling, while
-the bull-fighter was really safe. Romero had the old thing, the holding
-of his purity of line through the maximum of exposure, while he
-dominated the bull by making him realize he was unattainable, while he
-prepared him for the killing.
-
-“I’ve never seen him do an awkward thing,” Brett said.
-
-“You won’t until he gets frightened,” I said.
-
-“He’ll never be frightened,” Mike said. “He knows too damned much.”
-
-“He knew everything when he started. The others can’t ever learn what he
-was born with.”
-
-“And God, what looks,” Brett said.
-
-“I believe, you know, that she’s falling in love with this bull-fighter
-chap,” Mike said.
-
-“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
-
-“Be a good chap, Jake. Don’t tell her anything more about him. Tell her
-how they beat their old mothers.”
-
-“Tell me what drunks they are.”
-
-“Oh, frightful,” Mike said. “Drunk all day and spend all their time
-beating their poor old mothers.”
-
-“He looks that way,” Brett said.
-
-“Doesn’t he?” I said.
-
-They had hitched the mules to the dead bull and then the whips cracked,
-the men ran, and the mules, straining forward, their legs pushing, broke
-into a gallop, and the bull, one horn up, his head on its side, swept a
-swath smoothly across the sand and out the red gate.
-
-“This next is the last one.”
-
-“Not really,” Brett said. She leaned forward on the barrera. Romero
-waved his picadors to their places, then stood, his cape against his
-chest, looking across the ring to where the bull would come out.
-
-After it was over we went out and were pressed tight in the crowd.
-
-“These bull-fights are hell on one,” Brett said. “I’m limp as a rag.”
-
-“Oh, you’ll get a drink,” Mike said.
-
-The next day Pedro Romero did not fight. It was Miura bulls, and a very
-bad bull-fight. The next day there was no bull-fight scheduled. But all
-day and all night the fiesta kept on.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 16
-
-
-In the morning it was raining. A fog had come over the mountains from
-the sea. You could not see the tops of the mountains. The plateau was
-dull and gloomy, and the shapes of the trees and the houses were
-changed. I walked out beyond the town to look at the weather. The bad
-weather was coming over the mountains from the sea.
-
-The flags in the square hung wet from the white poles and the banners
-were wet and hung damp against the front of the houses, and in between
-the steady drizzle the rain came down and drove every one under the
-arcades and made pools of water in the square, and the streets wet and
-dark and deserted; yet the fiesta kept up without any pause. It was only
-driven under cover.
-
-The covered seats of the bull-ring had been crowded with people sitting
-out of the rain watching the concourse of Basque and Navarrais dancers
-and singers, and afterward the Val Carlos dancers in their costumes
-danced down the street in the rain, the drums sounding hollow and damp,
-and the chiefs of the bands riding ahead on their big, heavy-footed
-horses, their costumes wet, the horses’ coats wet in the rain. The crowd
-was in the cafés and the dancers came in, too, and sat, their
-tight-wound white legs under the tables, shaking the water from their
-belled caps, and spreading their red and purple jackets over the chairs
-to dry. It was raining hard outside.
-
-I left the crowd in the café and went over to the hotel to get shaved
-for dinner. I was shaving in my room when there was a knock on the door.
-
-“Come in,” I called.
-
-Montoya walked in.
-
-“How are you?” he said.
-
-“Fine,” I said.
-
-“No bulls to-day.”
-
-“No,” I said, “nothing but rain.”
-
-“Where are your friends?”
-
-“Over at the Iruña.”
-
-Montoya smiled his embarrassed smile.
-
-“Look,” he said. “Do you know the American ambassador?”
-
-“Yes,” I said. “Everybody knows the American ambassador.”
-
-“He’s here in town, now.”
-
-“Yes,” I said. “Everybody’s seen them.”
-
-“I’ve seen them, too,” Montoya said. He didn’t say anything. I went on
-shaving.
-
-“Sit down,” I said. “Let me send for a drink.”
-
-“No, I have to go.”
-
-I finished shaving and put my face down into the bowl and washed it with
-cold water. Montoya was standing there looking more embarrassed.
-
-“Look,” he said. “I’ve just had a message from them at the Grand Hotel
-that they want Pedro Romero and Marcial Lalanda to come over for coffee
-to-night after dinner.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “it can’t hurt Marcial any.”
-
-“Marcial has been in San Sebastian all day. He drove over in a car this
-morning with Marquez. I don’t think they’ll be back to-night.”
-
-Montoya stood embarrassed. He wanted me to say something.
-
-“Don’t give Romero the message,” I said.
-
-“You think so?”
-
-“Absolutely.”
-
-Montoya was very pleased.
-
-“I wanted to ask you because you were an American,” he said.
-
-“That’s what I’d do.”
-
-“Look,” said Montoya. “People take a boy like that. They don’t know what
-he’s worth. They don’t know what he means. Any foreigner can flatter
-him. They start this Grand Hotel business, and in one year they’re
-through.”
-
-“Like Algabeno,” I said.
-
-“Yes, like Algabeno.”
-
-“They’re a fine lot,” I said. “There’s one American woman down here now
-that collects bull-fighters.”
-
-“I know. They only want the young ones.”
-
-“Yes,” I said. “The old ones get fat.”
-
-“Or crazy like Gallo.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “it’s easy. All you have to do is not give him the
-message.”
-
-“He’s such a fine boy,” said Montoya. “He ought to stay with his own
-people. He shouldn’t mix in that stuff.”
-
-“Won’t you have a drink?” I asked.
-
-“No,” said Montoya, “I have to go.” He went out.
-
-I went down-stairs and out the door and took a walk around through the
-arcades around the square. It was still raining. I looked in at the
-Iruña for the gang and they were not there, so I walked on around the
-square and back to the hotel. They were eating dinner in the down-stairs
-dining-room.
-
-They were well ahead of me and it was no use trying to catch them. Bill
-was buying shoe-shines for Mike. Bootblacks opened the street door and
-each one Bill called over and started to work on Mike.
-
-“This is the eleventh time my boots have been polished,” Mike said. “I
-say, Bill is an ass.”
-
-The bootblacks had evidently spread the report. Another came in.
-
-“Limpia botas?” he said to Bill.
-
-“No,” said Bill. “For this Señor.”
-
-The bootblack knelt down beside the one at work and started on Mike’s
-free shoe that shone already in the electric light.
-
-“Bill’s a yell of laughter,” Mike said.
-
-I was drinking red wine, and so far behind them that I felt a little
-uncomfortable about all this shoe-shining. I looked around the room. At
-the next table was Pedro Romero. He stood up when I nodded, and asked me
-to come over and meet a friend. His table was beside ours, almost
-touching. I met the friend, a Madrid bull-fight critic, a little man
-with a drawn face. I told Romero how much I liked his work, and he was
-very pleased. We talked Spanish and the critic knew a little French. I
-reached to our table for my wine-bottle, but the critic took my arm.
-Romero laughed.
-
-“Drink here,” he said in English.
-
-He was very bashful about his English, but he was really very pleased
-with it, and as we went on talking he brought out words he was not sure
-of, and asked me about them. He was anxious to know the English for
-_Corrida de toros_, the exact translation. Bull-fight he was suspicious
-of. I explained that bull-fight in Spanish was the _lidia_ of a _toro_.
-The Spanish word _corrida_ means in English the running of bulls—the
-French translation is _Course de taureaux_. The critic put that in.
-There is no Spanish word for bull-fight.
-
-Pedro Romero said he had learned a little English in Gibraltar. He was
-born in Ronda. That is not far above Gibraltar. He started bull-fighting
-in Malaga in the bull-fighting school there. He had only been at it
-three years. The bull-fight critic joked him about the number of
-_Malagueño_ expressions he used. He was nineteen years old, he said. His
-older brother was with him as a banderillero, but he did not live in
-this hotel. He lived in a smaller hotel with the other people who worked
-for Romero. He asked me how many times I had seen him in the ring. I
-told him only three. It was really only two, but I did not want to
-explain after I had made the mistake.
-
-“Where did you see me the other time? In Madrid?”
-
-“Yes,” I lied. I had read the accounts of his two appearances in Madrid
-in the bull-fight papers, so I was all right.
-
-“The first or the second time?”
-
-“The first.”
-
-“I was very bad,” he said. “The second time I was better. You remember?”
-He turned to the critic.
-
-He was not at all embarrassed. He talked of his work as something
-altogether apart from himself. There was nothing conceited or braggartly
-about him.
-
-“I like it very much that you like my work,” he said. “But you haven’t
-seen it yet. To-morrow, if I get a good bull, I will try and show it to
-you.”
-
-When he said this he smiled, anxious that neither the bull-fight critic
-nor I would think he was boasting.
-
-“I am anxious to see it,” the critic said. “I would like to be
-convinced.”
-
-“He doesn’t like my work much.” Romero turned to me. He was serious.
-
-The critic explained that he liked it very much, but that so far it had
-been incomplete.
-
-“Wait till to-morrow, if a good one comes out.”
-
-“Have you seen the bulls for to-morrow?” the critic asked me.
-
-“Yes. I saw them unloaded.”
-
-Pedro Romero leaned forward.
-
-“What did you think of them?”
-
-“Very nice,” I said. “About twenty-six arrobas. Very short horns.
-Haven’t you seen them?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Romero.
-
-“They won’t weigh twenty-six arrobas,” said the critic.
-
-“No,” said Romero.
-
-“They’ve got bananas for horns,” the critic said.
-
-“You call them bananas?” asked Romero. He turned to me and smiled.
-“_You_ wouldn’t call them bananas?”
-
-“No,” I said. “They’re horns all right.”
-
-“They’re very short,” said Pedro Romero. “Very, very short. Still, they
-aren’t bananas.”
-
-“I say, Jake,” Brett called from the next table, “you _have_ deserted
-us.”
-
-“Just temporarily,” I said. “We’re talking bulls.”
-
-“You _are_ superior.”
-
-“Tell him that bulls have no balls,” Mike shouted. He was drunk.
-
-Romero looked at me inquiringly.
-
-“Drunk,” I said. “Borracho! Muy borracho!”
-
-“You might introduce your friends,” Brett said. She had not stopped
-looking at Pedro Romero. I asked them if they would like to have coffee
-with us. They both stood up. Romero’s face was very brown. He had very
-nice manners.
-
-I introduced them all around and they started to sit down, but there was
-not enough room, so we all moved over to the big table by the wall to
-have coffee. Mike ordered a bottle of Fundador and glasses for
-everybody. There was a lot of drunken talking.
-
-“Tell him I think writing is lousy,” Bill said. “Go on, tell him. Tell
-him I’m ashamed of being a writer.”
-
-Pedro Romero was sitting beside Brett and listening to her.
-
-“Go on. Tell him!” Bill said.
-
-Romero looked up smiling.
-
-“This gentleman,” I said, “is a writer.”
-
-Romero was impressed. “This other one, too,” I said, pointing at Cohn.
-
-“He looks like Villalta,” Romero said, looking at Bill. “Rafael, doesn’t
-he look like Villalta?”
-
-“I can’t see it,” the critic said.
-
-“Really,” Romero said in Spanish. “He looks a lot like Villalta. What
-does the drunken one do?”
-
-“Nothing.”
-
-“Is that why he drinks?”
-
-“No. He’s waiting to marry this lady.”
-
-“Tell him bulls have no balls!” Mike shouted, very drunk, from the other
-end of the table.
-
-“What does he say?”
-
-“He’s drunk.”
-
-“Jake,” Mike called. “Tell him bulls have no balls!”
-
-“You understand?” I said.
-
-“Yes.”
-
-I was sure he didn’t, so it was all right.
-
-“Tell him Brett wants to see him put on those green pants.”
-
-“Pipe down, Mike.”
-
-“Tell him Brett is dying to know how he can get into those pants.”
-
-“Pipe down.”
-
-During this Romero was fingering his glass and talking with Brett. Brett
-was talking French and he was talking Spanish and a little English, and
-laughing.
-
-Bill was filling the glasses.
-
-“Tell him Brett wants to come into——”
-
-“Oh, pipe down, Mike, for Christ’s sake!”
-
-Romero looked up smiling. “Pipe down! I know that,” he said.
-
-Just then Montoya came into the room. He started to smile at me, then he
-saw Pedro Romero with a big glass of cognac in his hand, sitting
-laughing between me and a woman with bare shoulders, at a table full of
-drunks. He did not even nod.
-
-Montoya went out of the room. Mike was on his feet proposing a toast.
-“Let’s all drink to—” he began. “Pedro Romero,” I said. Everybody stood
-up. Romero took it very seriously, and we touched glasses and drank it
-down, I rushing it a little because Mike was trying to make it clear
-that that was not at all what he was going to drink to. But it went off
-all right, and Pedro Romero shook hands with every one and he and the
-critic went out together.
-
-“My God! he’s a lovely boy,” Brett said. “And how I would love to see
-him get into those clothes. He must use a shoe-horn.”
-
-“I started to tell him,” Mike began. “And Jake kept interrupting me. Why
-do you interrupt me? Do you think you talk Spanish better than I do?”
-
-“Oh, shut up, Mike! Nobody interrupted you.”
-
-“No, I’d like to get this settled.” He turned away from me. “Do you
-think you amount to something, Cohn? Do you think you belong here among
-us? People who are out to have a good time? For God’s sake don’t be so
-noisy, Cohn!”
-
-“Oh, cut it out, Mike,” Cohn said.
-
-“Do you think Brett wants you here? Do you think you add to the party?
-Why don’t you say something?”
-
-“I said all I had to say the other night, Mike.”
-
-“I’m not one of you literary chaps.” Mike stood shakily and leaned
-against the table. “I’m not clever. But I do know when I’m not wanted.
-Why don’t you see when you’re not wanted, Cohn? Go away. Go away, for
-God’s sake. Take that sad Jewish face away. Don’t you think I’m right?”
-
-He looked at us.
-
-“Sure,” I said. “Let’s all go over to the Iruña.”
-
-“No. Don’t you think I’m right? I love that woman.”
-
-“Oh, don’t start that again. Do shove it along, Michael,” Brett said.
-
-“Don’t you think I’m right, Jake?”
-
-Cohn still sat at the table. His face had the sallow, yellow look it got
-when he was insulted, but somehow he seemed to be enjoying it. The
-childish, drunken heroics of it. It was his affair with a lady of title.
-
-“Jake,” Mike said. He was almost crying. “You know I’m right. Listen,
-you!” He turned to Cohn: “Go away! Go away now!”
-
-“But I won’t go, Mike,” said Cohn.
-
-“Then I’ll make you!” Mike started toward him around the table. Cohn
-stood up and took off his glasses. He stood waiting, his face sallow,
-his hands fairly low, proudly and firmly waiting for the assault, ready
-to do battle for his lady love.
-
-I grabbed Mike. “Come on to the café,” I said. “You can’t hit him here
-in the hotel.”
-
-“Good!” said Mike. “Good idea!”
-
-We started off. I looked back as Mike stumbled up the stairs and saw
-Cohn putting his glasses on again. Bill was sitting at the table pouring
-another glass of Fundador. Brett was sitting looking straight ahead at
-nothing.
-
-Outside on the square it had stopped raining and the moon was trying to
-get through the clouds. There was a wind blowing. The military band was
-playing and the crowd was massed on the far side of the square where the
-fireworks specialist and his son were trying to send up fire balloons. A
-balloon would start up jerkily, on a great bias, and be torn by the wind
-or blown against the houses of the square. Some fell into the crowd. The
-magnesium flared and the fireworks exploded and chased about in the
-crowd. There was no one dancing in the square. The gravel was too wet.
-
-Brett came out with Bill and joined us. We stood in the crowd and
-watched Don Manuel Orquito, the fireworks king, standing on a little
-platform, carefully starting the balloons with sticks, standing above
-the heads of the crowd to launch the balloons off into the wind. The
-wind brought them all down, and Don Manuel Orquito’s face was sweaty in
-the light of his complicated fireworks that fell into the crowd and
-charged and chased, sputtering and cracking, between the legs of the
-people. The people shouted as each new luminous paper bubble careened,
-caught fire, and fell.
-
-“They’re razzing Don Manuel,” Bill said.
-
-“How do you know he’s Don Manuel?” Brett said.
-
-“His name’s on the programme. Don Manuel Orquito, the pirotecnico of
-esta ciudad.”
-
-“Globos illuminados,” Mike said. “A collection of globos illuminados.
-That’s what the paper said.”
-
-The wind blew the band music away.
-
-“I say, I wish one would go up,” Brett said. “That Don Manuel chap is
-furious.”
-
-“He’s probably worked for weeks fixing them to go off, spelling out
-‘Hail to San Fermin,’” Bill said.
-
-“Globos illuminados,” Mike said. “A bunch of bloody globos illuminados.”
-
-“Come on,” said Brett. “We can’t stand here.”
-
-“Her ladyship wants a drink,” Mike said.
-
-“How you know things,” Brett said.
-
-Inside, the café was crowded and very noisy. No one noticed us come in.
-We could not find a table. There was a great noise going on.
-
-“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Bill said.
-
-Outside the paseo was going in under the arcade. There were some English
-and Americans from Biarritz in sport clothes scattered at the tables.
-Some of the women stared at the people going by with lorgnons. We had
-acquired, at some time, a friend of Bill’s from Biarritz. She was
-staying with another girl at the Grand Hotel. The other girl had a
-headache and had gone to bed.
-
-“Here’s the pub,” Mike said. It was the Bar Milano, a small, tough bar
-where you could get food and where they danced in the back room. We all
-sat down at a table and ordered a bottle of Fundador. The bar was not
-full. There was nothing going on.
-
-“This is a hell of a place,” Bill said.
-
-“It’s too early.”
-
-“Let’s take the bottle and come back later,” Bill said. “I don’t want to
-sit here on a night like this.”
-
-“Let’s go and look at the English,” Mike said. “I love to look at the
-English.”
-
-“They’re awful,” Bill said. “Where did they all come from?”
-
-“They come from Biarritz,” Mike said, “They come to see the last day of
-the quaint little Spanish fiesta.”
-
-“I’ll festa them,” Bill said.
-
-“You’re an extraordinarily beautiful girl.” Mike turned to Bill’s
-friend. “When did you come here?”
-
-“Come off it, Michael.”
-
-“I say, she _is_ a lovely girl. Where have I been? Where have I been
-looking all this while? You’re a lovely thing. _Have_ we met? Come along
-with me and Bill. We’re going to festa the English.”
-
-“I’ll festa them,” Bill said, “What the hell are they doing at this
-fiesta?”
-
-“Come on,” Mike said. “Just us three. We’re going to festa the bloody
-English. I hope you’re not English? I’m Scotch. I hate the English. I’m
-going to festa them. Come on, Bill.”
-
-Through the window we saw them, all three arm in arm, going toward the
-café. Rockets were going up in the square.
-
-“I’m going to sit here,” Brett said.
-
-“I’ll stay with you,” Cohn said.
-
-“Oh, don’t!” Brett said. “For God’s sake, go off somewhere. Can’t you
-see Jake and I want to talk?”
-
-“I didn’t,” Cohn said. “I thought I’d sit here because I felt a little
-tight.”
-
-“What a hell of a reason for sitting with any one. If you’re tight, go
-to bed. Go on to bed.”
-
-“Was I rude enough to him?” Brett asked. Cohn was gone. “My God! I’m so
-sick of him!”
-
-“He doesn’t add much to the gayety.”
-
-“He depresses me so.”
-
-“He’s behaved very badly.”
-
-“Damned badly. He had a chance to behave so well.”
-
-“He’s probably waiting just outside the door now.”
-
-“Yes. He would. You know I do know how he feels. He can’t believe it
-didn’t mean anything.”
-
-“I know.”
-
-“Nobody else would behave as badly. Oh, I’m so sick of the whole thing.
-And Michael. Michael’s been lovely, too.”
-
-“It’s been damned hard on Mike.”
-
-“Yes. But he didn’t need to be a swine.”
-
-“Everybody behaves badly,” I said. “Give them the proper chance.”
-
-“You wouldn’t behave badly.” Brett looked at me.
-
-“I’d be as big an ass as Cohn,” I said.
-
-“Darling, don’t let’s talk a lot of rot.”
-
-“All right. Talk about anything you like.”
-
-“Don’t be difficult. You’re the only person I’ve got, and I feel rather
-awful to-night.”
-
-“You’ve got Mike.”
-
-“Yes, Mike. Hasn’t he been pretty?”
-
-“Well,” I said, “it’s been damned hard on Mike, having Cohn around and
-seeing him with you.”
-
-“Don’t I know it, darling? Please don’t make me feel any worse than I
-do.”
-
-Brett was nervous as I had never seen her before. She kept looking away
-from me and looking ahead at the wall.
-
-“Want to go for a walk?”
-
-“Yes. Come on.”
-
-I corked up the Fundador bottle and gave it to the bartender.
-
-“Let’s have one more drink of that,” Brett said. “My nerves are rotten.”
-
-We each drank a glass of the smooth amontillado brandy.
-
-“Come on,” said Brett.
-
-As we came out the door I saw Cohn walk out from under the arcade.
-
-“He _was_ there,” Brett said.
-
-“He can’t be away from you.”
-
-“Poor devil!”
-
-“I’m not sorry for him. I hate him, myself.”
-
-“I hate him, too,” she shivered. “I hate his damned suffering.”
-
-We walked arm in arm down the side street away from the crowd and the
-lights of the square. The street was dark and wet, and we walked along
-it to the fortifications at the edge of town. We passed wine-shops with
-light coming out from their doors onto the black, wet street, and sudden
-bursts of music.
-
-“Want to go in?”
-
-“No.”
-
-We walked out across the wet grass and onto the stone wall of the
-fortifications. I spread a newspaper on the stone and Brett sat down.
-Across the plain it was dark, and we could see the mountains. The wind
-was high up and took the clouds across the moon. Below us were the dark
-pits of the fortifications. Behind were the trees and the shadow of the
-cathedral, and the town silhouetted against the moon.
-
-“Don’t feel bad,” I said.
-
-“I feel like hell,” Brett said. “Don’t let’s talk.”
-
-We looked out at the plain. The long lines of trees were dark in the
-moonlight. There were the lights of a car on the road climbing the
-mountain. Up on the top of the mountain we saw the lights of the fort.
-Below to the left was the river. It was high from the rain, and black
-and smooth. Trees were dark along the banks. We sat and looked out.
-Brett stared straight ahead. Suddenly she shivered.
-
-“It’s cold.”
-
-“Want to walk back?”
-
-“Through the park.”
-
-We climbed down. It was clouding over again. In the park it was dark
-under the trees.
-
-“Do you still love me, Jake?”
-
-“Yes,” I said.
-
-“Because I’m a goner,” Brett said.
-
-“How?”
-
-“I’m a goner. I’m mad about the Romero boy. I’m in love with him, I
-think.”
-
-“I wouldn’t be if I were you.”
-
-“I can’t help it. I’m a goner. It’s tearing me all up inside.”
-
-“Don’t do it.”
-
-“I can’t help it. I’ve never been able to help anything.”
-
-“You ought to stop it.”
-
-“How can I stop it? I can’t stop things. Feel that?”
-
-Her hand was trembling.
-
-“I’m like that all through.”
-
-“You oughtn’t to do it.”
-
-“I can’t help it. I’m a goner now, anyway. Don’t you see the
-difference?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to do something I really want to do.
-I’ve lost my self-respect.”
-
-“You don’t have to do that.”
-
-“Oh, darling, don’t be difficult. What do you think it’s meant to have
-that damned Jew about, and Mike the way he’s acted?”
-
-“Sure.”
-
-“I can’t just stay tight all the time.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Oh, darling, please stay by me. Please stay by me and see me through
-this.”
-
-“Sure.”
-
-“I don’t say it’s right. It is right though for me. God knows, I’ve
-never felt such a bitch.”
-
-“What do you want me to do?”
-
-“Come on,” Brett said. “Let’s go and find him.”
-
-Together we walked down the gravel path in the park in the dark, under
-the trees and then out from under the trees and past the gate into the
-street that led into town.
-
-Pedro Romero was in the café. He was at a table with other bull-fighters
-and bull-fight critics. They were smoking cigars. When we came in they
-looked up. Romero smiled and bowed. We sat down at a table half-way down
-the room.
-
-“Ask him to come over and have a drink.”
-
-“Not yet. He’ll come over.”
-
-“I can’t look at him.”
-
-“He’s nice to look at,” I said.
-
-“I’ve always done just what I wanted.”
-
-“I know.”
-
-“I do feel such a bitch.”
-
-“Well,” I said.
-
-“My God!” said Brett, “the things a woman goes through.”
-
-“Yes?”
-
-“Oh, I do feel such a bitch.”
-
-I looked across at the table. Pedro Romero smiled. He said something to
-the other people at his table, and stood up. He came over to our table.
-I stood up and we shook hands.
-
-“Won’t you have a drink?”
-
-“You must have a drink with me,” he said. He seated himself, asking
-Brett’s permission without saying anything. He had very nice manners.
-But he kept on smoking his cigar. It went well with his face.
-
-“You like cigars?” I asked.
-
-“Oh, yes. I always smoke cigars.”
-
-It was part of his system of authority. It made him seem older. I
-noticed his skin. It was clear and smooth and very brown. There was a
-triangular scar on his cheek-bone. I saw he was watching Brett. He felt
-there was something between them. He must have felt it when Brett gave
-him her hand. He was being very careful. I think he was sure, but he did
-not want to make any mistake.
-
-“You fight to-morrow?” I said.
-
-“Yes,” he said. “Algabeno was hurt to-day in Madrid. Did you hear?”
-
-“No,” I said. “Badly?”
-
-He shook his head.
-
-“Nothing. Here,” he showed his hand. Brett reached out and spread the
-fingers apart.
-
-“Oh!” he said in English, “you tell fortunes?”
-
-“Sometimes. Do you mind?”
-
-“No. I like it.” He spread his hand flat on the table. “Tell me I live
-for always, and be a millionaire.”
-
-He was still very polite, but he was surer of himself. “Look,” he said,
-“do you see any bulls in my hand?”
-
-He laughed. His hand was very fine and the wrist was small.
-
-“There are thousands of bulls,” Brett said. She was not at all nervous
-now. She looked lovely.
-
-“Good,” Romero laughed. “At a thousand duros apiece,” he said to me in
-Spanish. “Tell me some more.”
-
-“It’s a good hand,” Brett said. “I think he’ll live a long time.”
-
-“Say it to me. Not to your friend.”
-
-“I said you’d live a long time.”
-
-“I know it,” Romero said. “I’m never going to die.”
-
-I tapped with my finger-tips on the table. Romero saw it. He shook his
-head.
-
-“No. Don’t do that. The bulls are my best friends.”
-
-I translated to Brett.
-
-“You kill your friends?” she asked.
-
-“Always,” he said in English, and laughed. “So they don’t kill me.” He
-looked at her across the table.
-
-“You know English well.”
-
-“Yes,” he said. “Pretty well, sometimes. But I must not let anybody
-know. It would be very bad, a torero who speaks English.”
-
-“Why?” asked Brett.
-
-“It would be bad. The people would not like it. Not yet.”
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“They would not like it. Bull-fighters are not like that.”
-
-“What are bull-fighters like?”
-
-He laughed and tipped his hat down over his eyes and changed the angle
-of his cigar and the expression of his face.
-
-“Like at the table,” he said. I glanced over. He had mimicked exactly
-the expression of Nacional. He smiled, his face natural again. “No. I
-must forget English.”
-
-“Don’t forget it, yet,” Brett said.
-
-“No?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“All right.”
-
-He laughed again.
-
-“I would like a hat like that,” Brett said.
-
-“Good. I’ll get you one.”
-
-“Right. See that you do.”
-
-“I will. I’ll get you one to-night.”
-
-I stood up. Romero rose, too.
-
-“Sit down,” I said. “I must go and find our friends and bring them
-here.”
-
-He looked at me. It was a final look to ask if it were understood. It
-was understood all right.
-
-“Sit down,” Brett said to him. “You must teach me Spanish.”
-
-He sat down and looked at her across the table. I went out. The
-hard-eyed people at the bull-fighter table watched me go. It was not
-pleasant. When I came back and looked in the café, twenty minutes later,
-Brett and Pedro Romero were gone. The coffee-glasses and our three empty
-cognac-glasses were on the table. A waiter came with a cloth and picked
-up the glasses and mopped off the table.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 17
-
-
-Outside the Bar Milano I found Bill and Mike and Edna. Edna was the
-girl’s name.
-
-“We’ve been thrown out,” Edna said.
-
-“By the police,” said Mike. “There’s some people in there that don’t
-like me.”
-
-“I’ve kept them out of four fights,” Edna said. “You’ve got to help me.”
-
-Bill’s face was red.
-
-“Come back in, Edna,” he said. “Go on in there and dance with Mike.”
-
-“It’s silly,” Edna said. “There’ll just be another row.”
-
-“Damned Biarritz swine,” Bill said.
-
-“Come on,” Mike said. “After all, it’s a pub. They can’t occupy a whole
-pub.”
-
-“Good old Mike,” Bill said. “Damned English swine come here and insult
-Mike and try and spoil the fiesta.”
-
-“They’re so bloody,” Mike said. “I hate the English.”
-
-“They can’t insult Mike,” Bill said. “Mike is a swell fellow. They can’t
-insult Mike. I won’t stand it. Who cares if he is a damn bankrupt?” His
-voice broke.
-
-“Who cares?” Mike said. “I don’t care. Jake doesn’t care. Do _you_
-care?”
-
-“No,” Edna said. “Are you a bankrupt?”
-
-“Of course I am. You don’t care, do you, Bill?”
-
-Bill put his arm around Mike’s shoulder.
-
-“I wish to hell I was a bankrupt. I’d show those bastards.”
-
-“They’re just English,” Mike said. “It never makes any difference what
-the English say.”
-
-“The dirty swine,” Bill said. “I’m going to clean them out.”
-
-“Bill,” Edna looked at me. “Please don’t go in again, Bill. They’re so
-stupid.”
-
-“That’s it,” said Mike. “They’re stupid. I knew that was what it was.”
-
-“They can’t say things like that about Mike,” Bill said.
-
-“Do you know them?” I asked Mike.
-
-“No. I never saw them. They say they know me.”
-
-“I won’t stand it,” Bill said.
-
-“Come on. Let’s go over to the Suizo,” I said.
-
-“They’re a bunch of Edna’s friends from Biarritz,” Bill said.
-
-“They’re simply stupid,” Edna said.
-
-“One of them’s Charley Blackman, from Chicago,” Bill said.
-
-“I was never in Chicago,” Mike said.
-
-Edna started to laugh and could not stop.
-
-“Take me away from here,” she said, “you bankrupts.”
-
-“What kind of a row was it?” I asked Edna. We were walking across the
-square to the Suizo. Bill was gone.
-
-“I don’t know what happened, but some one had the police called to keep
-Mike out of the back room. There were some people that had known Mike at
-Cannes. What’s the matter with Mike?”
-
-“Probably he owes them money” I said. “That’s what people usually get
-bitter about.”
-
-In front of the ticket-booths out in the square there were two lines of
-people waiting. They were sitting on chairs or crouched on the ground
-with blankets and newspapers around them. They were waiting for the
-wickets to open in the morning to buy tickets for the bull-fight. The
-night was clearing and the moon was out. Some of the people in the line
-were sleeping.
-
-At the Café Suizo we had just sat down and ordered Fundador when Robert
-Cohn came up.
-
-“Where’s Brett?” he asked.
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“She was with you.”
-
-“She must have gone to bed.”
-
-“She’s not.”
-
-“I don’t know where she is.”
-
-His face was sallow under the light. He was standing up.
-
-“Tell me where she is.”
-
-“Sit down,” I said. “I don’t know where she is.”
-
-“The hell you don’t!”
-
-“You can shut your face.”
-
-“Tell me where Brett is.”
-
-“I’ll not tell you a damn thing.”
-
-“You know where she is.”
-
-“If I did I wouldn’t tell you.”
-
-“Oh, go to hell, Cohn,” Mike called from the table. “Brett’s gone off
-with the bull-fighter chap. They’re on their honeymoon.”
-
-“You shut up.”
-
-“Oh, go to hell!” Mike said languidly.
-
-“Is that where she is?” Cohn turned to me.
-
-“Go to hell!”
-
-“She was with you. Is that where she is?”
-
-“Go to hell!”
-
-“I’ll make you tell me”—he stepped forward—“you damned pimp.”
-
-I swung at him and he ducked. I saw his face duck sideways in the light.
-He hit me and I sat down on the pavement. As I started to get on my feet
-he hit me twice. I went down backward under a table. I tried to get up
-and felt I did not have any legs. I felt I must get on my feet and try
-and hit him. Mike helped me up. Some one poured a carafe of water on my
-head. Mike had an arm around me, and I found I was sitting on a chair.
-Mike was pulling at my ears.
-
-“I say, you were cold,” Mike said.
-
-“Where the hell were you?”
-
-“Oh, I was around.”
-
-“You didn’t want to mix in it?”
-
-“He knocked Mike down, too,” Edna said.
-
-“He didn’t knock me out,” Mike said. “I just lay there.”
-
-“Does this happen every night at your fiestas?” Edna asked. “Wasn’t that
-Mr. Cohn?”
-
-“I’m all right,” I said. “My head’s a little wobbly.”
-
-There were several waiters and a crowd of people standing around.
-
-“Vaya!” said Mike. “Get away. Go on.”
-
-The waiters moved the people away.
-
-“It was quite a thing to watch,” Edna said. “He must be a boxer.”
-
-“He is.”
-
-“I wish Bill had been here,” Edna said. “I’d like to have seen Bill
-knocked down, too. I’ve always wanted to see Bill knocked down. He’s so
-big.”
-
-“I was hoping he would knock down a waiter,” Mike said, “and get
-arrested. I’d like to see Mr. Robert Cohn in jail.”
-
-“No,” I said.
-
-“Oh, no,” said Edna. “You don’t mean that.”
-
-“I do, though,” Mike said. “I’m not one of these chaps likes being
-knocked about. I never play games, even.”
-
-Mike took a drink.
-
-“I never liked to hunt, you know. There was always the danger of having
-a horse fall on you. How do you feel, Jake?”
-
-“All right.”
-
-“You’re nice,” Edna said to Mike. “Are you really a bankrupt?”
-
-“I’m a tremendous bankrupt,” Mike said. “I owe money to everybody. Don’t
-you owe any money?”
-
-“Tons.”
-
-“I owe everybody money,” Mike said. “I borrowed a hundred pesetas from
-Montoya to-night.”
-
-“The hell you did,” I said.
-
-“I’ll pay it back,” Mike said. “I always pay everything back.”
-
-“That’s why you’re a bankrupt, isn’t it?” Edna said.
-
-I stood up. I had heard them talking from a long way away. It all seemed
-like some bad play.
-
-“I’m going over to the hotel,” I said. Then I heard them talking about
-me.
-
-“Is he all right?” Edna asked.
-
-“We’d better walk with him.”
-
-“I’m all right,” I said. “Don’t come. I’ll see you all later.”
-
-I walked away from the café. They were sitting at the table. I looked
-back at them and at the empty tables. There was a waiter sitting at one
-of the tables with his head in his hands.
-
-Walking across the square to the hotel everything looked new and
-changed. I had never seen the trees before. I had never seen the
-flagpoles before, nor the front of the theatre. It was all different. I
-felt as I felt once coming home from an out-of-town football game. I was
-carrying a suitcase with my football things in it, and I walked up the
-street from the station in the town I had lived in all my life and it
-was all new. They were raking the lawns and burning leaves in the road,
-and I stopped for a long time and watched. It was all strange. Then I
-went on, and my feet seemed to be a long way off, and everything seemed
-to come from a long way off, and I could hear my feet walking a great
-distance away. I had been kicked in the head early in the game. It was
-like that crossing the square. It was like that going up the stairs in
-the hotel. Going up the stairs took a long time, and I had the feeling
-that I was carrying my suitcase. There was a light in the room. Bill
-came out and met me in the hall.
-
-“Say,” he said, “go up and see Cohn. He’s been in a jam, and he’s asking
-for you.”
-
-“The hell with him.”
-
-“Go on. Go on up and see him.”
-
-I did not want to climb another flight of stairs.
-
-“What are you looking at me that way for?”
-
-“I’m not looking at you. Go on up and see Cohn. He’s in bad shape.”
-
-“You were drunk a little while ago,” I said.
-
-“I’m drunk now,” Bill said. “But you go up and see Cohn. He wants to see
-you.”
-
-“All right,” I said. It was just a matter of climbing more stairs. I
-went on up the stairs carrying my phantom suitcase. I walked down the
-hall to Cohn’s room. The door was shut and I knocked.
-
-“Who is it?”
-
-“Barnes.”
-
-“Come in, Jake.”
-
-I opened the door and went in, and set down my suitcase. There was no
-light in the room. Cohn was lying, face down, on the bed in the dark.
-
-“Hello, Jake.”
-
-“Don’t call me Jake.”
-
-I stood by the door. It was just like this that I had come home. Now it
-was a hot bath that I needed. A deep, hot bath, to lie back in.
-
-“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.
-
-Cohn was crying. There he was, face down on the bed, crying. He had on a
-white polo shirt, the kind he’d worn at Princeton.
-
-“I’m sorry, Jake. Please forgive me.”
-
-“Forgive you, hell.”
-
-“Please forgive me, Jake.”
-
-I did not say anything. I stood there by the door.
-
-“I was crazy. You must see how it was.”
-
-“Oh, that’s all right.”
-
-“I couldn’t stand it about Brett.”
-
-“You called me a pimp.”
-
-I did not care. I wanted a hot bath. I wanted a hot bath in deep water.
-
-“I know. Please don’t remember it. I was crazy.”
-
-“That’s all right.”
-
-He was crying. His voice was funny. He lay there in his white shirt on
-the bed in the dark. His polo shirt.
-
-“I’m going away in the morning.”
-
-He was crying without making any noise.
-
-“I just couldn’t stand it about Brett. I’ve been through hell, Jake.
-It’s been simply hell. When I met her down here Brett treated me as
-though I were a perfect stranger. I just couldn’t stand it. We lived
-together at San Sebastian. I suppose you know it. I can’t stand it any
-more.”
-
-He lay there on the bed.
-
-“Well,” I said, “I’m going to take a bath.”
-
-“You were the only friend I had, and I loved Brett so.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “so long.”
-
-“I guess it isn’t any use,” he said. “I guess it isn’t any damn use.”
-
-“What?”
-
-“Everything. Please say you forgive me, Jake.”
-
-“Sure,” I said. “It’s all right.”
-
-“I felt so terribly. I’ve been through such hell, Jake. Now everything’s
-gone. Everything.”
-
-“Well,” I said, “so long. I’ve got to go.”
-
-He rolled over, sat on the edge of the bed, and then stood up.
-
-“So long, Jake,” he said. “You’ll shake hands, won’t you?”
-
-“Sure. Why not?”
-
-We shook hands. In the dark I could not see his face very well.
-
-“Well,” I said, “see you in the morning.”
-
-“I’m going away in the morning.”
-
-“Oh, yes,” I said.
-
-I went out. Cohn was standing in the door of the room.
-
-“Are you all right, Jake?” he asked.
-
-“Oh, yes,” I said. “I’m all right.”
-
-I could not find the bathroom. After a while I found it. There was a
-deep stone tub. I turned on the taps and the water would not run. I sat
-down on the edge of the bath-tub. When I got up to go I found I had
-taken off my shoes. I hunted for them and found them and carried them
-down-stairs. I found my room and went inside and undressed and got into
-bed.
-
- * * * * *
-
-I woke with a headache and the noise of the bands going by in the
-street. I remembered I had promised to take Bill’s friend Edna to see
-the bulls go through the street and into the ring. I dressed and went
-down-stairs and out into the cold early morning. People were crossing
-the square, hurrying toward the bull-ring. Across the square were the
-two lines of men in front of the ticket-booths. They were still waiting
-for the tickets to go on sale at seven o’clock. I hurried across the
-street to the café. The waiter told me that my friends had been there
-and gone.
-
-“How many were they?”
-
-“Two gentlemen and a lady.”
-
-That was all right. Bill and Mike were with Edna. She had been afraid
-last night they would pass out. That was why I was to be sure to take
-her. I drank the coffee and hurried with the other people toward the
-bull-ring. I was not groggy now. There was only a bad headache.
-Everything looked sharp and clear, and the town smelt of the early
-morning.
-
-The stretch of ground from the edge of the town to the bull-ring was
-muddy. There was a crowd all along the fence that led to the ring, and
-the outside balconies and the top of the bull-ring were solid with
-people. I heard the rocket and I knew I could not get into the ring in
-time to see the bulls come in, so I shoved through the crowd to the
-fence. I was pushed close against the planks of the fence. Between the
-two fences of the runway the police were clearing the crowd along. They
-walked or trotted on into the bull-ring. Then people commenced to come
-running. A drunk slipped and fell. Two policemen grabbed him and rushed
-him over to the fence. The crowd were running fast now. There was a
-great shout from the crowd, and putting my head through between the
-boards I saw the bulls just coming out of the street into the long
-running pen. They were going fast and gaining on the crowd. Just then
-another drunk started out from the fence with a blouse in his hands. He
-wanted to do capework with the bulls. The two policemen tore out,
-collared him, one hit him with a club, and they dragged him against the
-fence and stood flattened out against the fence as the last of the crowd
-and the bulls went by. There were so many people running ahead of the
-bulls that the mass thickened and slowed up going through the gate into
-the ring, and as the bulls passed, galloping together, heavy,
-muddy-sided, horns swinging, one shot ahead, caught a man in the running
-crowd in the back and lifted him in the air. Both the man’s arms were by
-his sides, his head went back as the horn went in, and the bull lifted
-him and then dropped him. The bull picked another man running in front,
-but the man disappeared into the crowd, and the crowd was through the
-gate and into the ring with the bulls behind them. The red door of the
-ring went shut, the crowd on the outside balconies of the bull-ring were
-pressing through to the inside, there was a shout, then another shout.
-
-The man who had been gored lay face down in the trampled mud. People
-climbed over the fence, and I could not see the man because the crowd
-was so thick around him. From inside the ring came the shouts. Each
-shout meant a charge by some bull into the crowd. You could tell by the
-degree of intensity in the shout how bad a thing it was that was
-happening. Then the rocket went up that meant the steers had gotten the
-bulls out of the ring and into the corrals. I left the fence and started
-back toward the town.
-
-Back in the town I went to the café to have a second coffee and some
-buttered toast. The waiters were sweeping out the café and mopping off
-the tables. One came over and took my order.
-
-“Anything happen at the encierro?”
-
-“I didn’t see it all. One man was badly cogido.”
-
-“Where?”
-
-“Here.” I put one hand on the small of my back and the other on my
-chest, where it looked as though the horn must have come through. The
-waiter nodded his head and swept the crumbs from the table with his
-cloth.
-
-“Badly cogido,” he said. “All for sport. All for pleasure.”
-
-He went away and came back with the long-handled coffee and milk pots.
-He poured the milk and coffee. It came out of the long spouts in two
-streams into the big cup. The waiter nodded his head.
-
-“Badly cogido through the back,” he said. He put the pots down on the
-table and sat down in the chair at the table. “A big horn wound. All for
-fun. Just for fun. What do you think of that?”
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“That’s it. All for fun. Fun, you understand.”
-
-“You’re not an aficionado?”
-
-“Me? What are bulls? Animals. Brute animals.” He stood up and put his
-hand on the small of his back. “Right through the back. A cornada right
-through the back. For fun—you understand.”
-
-He shook his head and walked away, carrying the coffee-pots. Two men
-were going by in the street. The waiter shouted to them. They were
-grave-looking. One shook his head. “Muerto!” he called.
-
-The waiter nodded his head. The two men went on. They were on some
-errand. The waiter came over to my table.
-
-“You hear? Muerto. Dead. He’s dead. With a horn through him. All for
-morning fun. Es muy flamenco.”
-
-“It’s bad.”
-
-“Not for me,” the waiter said. “No fun in that for me.”
-
-Later in the day we learned that the man who was killed was named
-Vicente Girones, and came from near Tafalla. The next day in the paper
-we read that he was twenty-eight years old, and had a farm, a wife, and
-two children. He had continued to come to the fiesta each year after he
-was married. The next day his wife came in from Tafalla to be with the
-body, and the day after there was a service in the chapel of San Fermin,
-and the coffin was carried to the railway-station by members of the
-dancing and drinking society of Tafalla. The drums marched ahead, and
-there was music on the fifes, and behind the men who carried the coffin
-walked the wife and two children. . . . Behind them marched all the
-members of the dancing and drinking societies of Pamplona, Estella,
-Tafalla, and Sanguesa who could stay over for the funeral. The coffin
-was loaded into the baggage-car of the train, and the widow and the two
-children rode, sitting, all three together, in an open third-class
-railway-carriage. The train started with a jerk, and then ran smoothly,
-going down grade around the edge of the plateau and out into the fields
-of grain that blew in the wind on the plain on the way to Tafalla.
-
-The bull who killed Vicente Girones was named Bocanegra, was Number 118
-of the bull-breeding establishment of Sanchez Tabemo, and was killed by
-Pedro Romero as the third bull of that same afternoon. His ear was cut
-by popular acclamation and given to Pedro Romero, who, in turn, gave it
-to Brett, who wrapped it in a handkerchief belonging to myself, and left
-both ear and handkerchief, along with a number of Muratti
-cigarette-stubs, shoved far back in the drawer of the bed-table that
-stood beside her bed in the Hotel Montoya, in Pamplona.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Back in the hotel, the night watchman was sitting on a bench inside the
-door. He had been there all night and was very sleepy. He stood up as I
-came in. Three of the waitresses came in at the same time. They had been
-to the morning show at the bull-ring. They went up-stairs laughing. I
-followed them up-stairs and went into my room. I took off my shoes and
-lay down on the bed. The window was open onto the balcony and the
-sunlight was bright in the room. I did not feel sleepy. It must have
-been half past three o’clock when I had gone to bed and the bands had
-waked me at six. My jaw was sore on both sides. I felt it with my thumb
-and fingers. That damn Cohn. He should have hit somebody the first time
-he was insulted, and then gone away. He was so sure that Brett loved
-him. He was going to stay, and true love would conquer all. Some one
-knocked on the door.
-
-“Come in.”
-
-It was Bill and Mike. They sat down on the bed.
-
-“Some encierro,” Bill said. “Some encierro.”
-
-“I say, weren’t you there?” Mike asked. “Ring for some beer, Bill.”
-
-“What a morning!” Bill said. He mopped off his face. “My God! what a
-morning! And here’s old Jake. Old Jake, the human punching-bag.”
-
-“What happened inside?”
-
-“Good God!” Bill said, “what happened, Mike?”
-
-“There were these bulls coming in,” Mike said. “Just ahead of them was
-the crowd, and some chap tripped and brought the whole lot of them
-down.”
-
-“And the bulls all came in right over them,” Bill said.
-
-“I heard them yell.”
-
-“That was Edna,” Bill said.
-
-“Chaps kept coming out and waving their shirts.”
-
-“One bull went along the barrera and hooked everybody over.”
-
-“They took about twenty chaps to the infirmary,” Mike said.
-
-“What a morning!” Bill said. “The damn police kept arresting chaps that
-wanted to go and commit suicide with the bulls.”
-
-“The steers took them in, in the end,” Mike said.
-
-“It took about an hour.”
-
-“It was really about a quarter of an hour,” Mike objected.
-
-“Oh, go to hell,” Bill said. “You’ve been in the war. It was two hours
-and a half for me.”
-
-“Where’s that beer?” Mike asked.
-
-“What did you do with the lovely Edna?”
-
-“We took her home just now. She’s gone to bed.”
-
-“How did she like it?”
-
-“Fine. We told her it was just like that every morning.”
-
-“She was impressed,” Mike said.
-
-“She wanted us to go down in the ring, too,” Bill said. “She likes
-action.”
-
-“I said it wouldn’t be fair to my creditors,” Mike said.
-
-“What a morning,” Bill said. “And what a night!”
-
-“How’s your jaw, Jake?” Mike asked.
-
-“Sore,” I said.
-
-Bill laughed.
-
-“Why didn’t you hit him with a chair?”
-
-“You can talk,” Mike said. “He’d have knocked you out, too. I never saw
-him hit me. I rather think I saw him just before, and then quite
-suddenly I was sitting down in the street, and Jake was lying under a
-table.”
-
-“Where did he go afterward?” I asked.
-
-“Here she is,” Mike said. “Here’s the beautiful lady with the beer.”
-
-The chambermaid put the tray with the beer-bottles and glasses down on
-the table.
-
-“Now bring up three more bottles,” Mike said.
-
-“Where did Cohn go after he hit me?” I asked Bill.
-
-“Don’t you know about that?” Mike was opening a beer-bottle. He poured
-the beer into one of the glasses, holding the glass close to the bottle.
-
-“Really?” Bill asked.
-
-“Why he went in and found Brett and the bull-fighter chap in the
-bull-fighter’s room, and then he massacred the poor, bloody
-bull-fighter.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“What a night!” Bill said.
-
-“He nearly killed the poor, bloody bull-fighter. Then Cohn wanted to
-take Brett away. Wanted to make an honest woman of her, I imagine.
-Damned touching scene.”
-
-He took a long drink of the beer.
-
-“He is an ass.”
-
-“What happened?”
-
-“Brett gave him what for. She told him off. I think she was rather
-good.”
-
-“I’ll bet she was,” Bill said.
-
-“Then Cohn broke down and cried, and wanted to shake hands with the
-bull-fighter fellow. He wanted to shake hands with Brett, too.”
-
-“I know. He shook hands with me.”
-
-“Did he? Well, they weren’t having any of it. The bull-fighter fellow
-was rather good. He didn’t say much, but he kept getting up and getting
-knocked down again. Cohn couldn’t knock him out. It must have been
-damned funny.”
-
-“Where did you hear all this?”
-
-“Brett. I saw her this morning.”
-
-“What happened finally?”
-
-“It seems the bull-fighter fellow was sitting on the bed. He’d been
-knocked down about fifteen times, and he wanted to fight some more.
-Brett held him and wouldn’t let him get up. He was weak, but Brett
-couldn’t hold him, and he got up. Then Cohn said he wouldn’t hit him
-again. Said he couldn’t do it. Said it would be wicked. So the
-bull-fighter chap sort of rather staggered over to him. Cohn went back
-against the wall.
-
-“‘So you won’t hit me?’
-
-“‘No,’ said Cohn. ‘I’d be ashamed to.’
-
-“So the bull-fighter fellow hit him just as hard as he could in the
-face, and then sat down on the floor. He couldn’t get up, Brett said.
-Cohn wanted to pick him up and carry him to the bed. He said if Cohn
-helped him he’d kill him, and he’d kill him anyway this morning if Cohn
-wasn’t out of town. Cohn was crying, and Brett had told him off, and he
-wanted to shake hands. I’ve told you that before.”
-
-“Tell the rest,” Bill said.
-
-“It seems the bull-fighter chap was sitting on the floor. He was waiting
-to get strength enough to get up and hit Cohn again. Brett wasn’t having
-any shaking hands, and Cohn was crying and telling her how much he loved
-her, and she was telling him not to be a ruddy ass. Then Cohn leaned
-down to shake hands with the bull-fighter fellow. No hard feelings, you
-know. All for forgiveness. And the bull-fighter chap hit him in the face
-again.”
-
-“That’s quite a kid,” Bill said.
-
-“He ruined Cohn,” Mike said. “You know I don’t think Cohn will ever want
-to knock people about again.”
-
-“When did you see Brett?”
-
-“This morning. She came in to get some things. She’s looking after this
-Romero lad.”
-
-He poured out another bottle of beer.
-
-“Brett’s rather cut up. But she loves looking after people. That’s how
-we came to go off together. She was looking after me.”
-
-“I know,” I said.
-
-“I’m rather drunk,” Mike said. “I think I’ll _stay_ rather drunk. This
-is all awfully amusing, but it’s not too pleasant. It’s not too pleasant
-for me.”
-
-He drank off the beer.
-
-“I gave Brett what for, you know. I said if she would go about with Jews
-and bull-fighters and such people, she must expect trouble.” He leaned
-forward. “I say, Jake, do you mind if I drink that bottle of yours?
-She’ll bring you another one.”
-
-“Please,” I said. “I wasn’t drinking it, anyway.”
-
-Mike started to open the bottle. “Would you mind opening it?” I pressed
-up the wire fastener and poured it for him.
-
-“You know,” Mike went on, “Brett was rather good. She’s always rather
-good. I gave her a fearful hiding about Jews and bull-fighters, and all
-those sort of people, and do you know what she said: ‘Yes. I’ve had such
-a hell of a happy life with the British aristocracy!’”
-
-He took a drink.
-
-“That was rather good. Ashley, chap she got the title from, was a
-sailor, you know. Ninth baronet. When he came home he wouldn’t sleep in
-a bed. Always made Brett sleep on the floor. Finally, when he got really
-bad, he used to tell her he’d kill her. Always slept with a loaded
-service revolver. Brett used to take the shells out when he’d gone to
-sleep. She hasn’t had an absolutely happy life. Brett. Damned shame,
-too. She enjoys things so.”
-
-He stood up. His hand was shaky.
-
-“I’m going in the room. Try and get a little sleep.”
-
-He smiled.
-
-“We go too long without sleep in these fiestas. I’m going to start now
-and get plenty of sleep. Damn bad thing not to get sleep. Makes you
-frightfully nervy.”
-
-“We’ll see you at noon at the Iruña,” Bill said.
-
-Mike went out the door. We heard him in the next room.
-
-He rang the bell and the chambermaid came and knocked at the door.
-
-“Bring up half a dozen bottles of beer and a bottle of Fundador,” Mike
-told her.
-
-“Si, Señorito.”
-
-“I’m going to bed,” Bill said. “Poor old Mike. I had a hell of a row
-about him last night.”
-
-“Where? At that Milano place?”
-
-“Yes. There was a fellow there that had helped pay Brett and Mike out of
-Cannes, once. He was damned nasty.”
-
-“I know the story.”
-
-“I didn’t. Nobody ought to have a right to say things about Mike.”
-
-“That’s what makes it bad.”
-
-“They oughtn’t to have any right. I wish to hell they didn’t have any
-right. I’m going to bed.”
-
-“Was anybody killed in the ring?”
-
-“I don’t think so. Just badly hurt.”
-
-“A man was killed outside in the runway.”
-
-“Was there?” said Bill.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 18
-
-
-At noon we were all at the café. It was crowded. We were eating shrimps
-and drinking beer. The town was crowded. Every street was full. Big
-motor-cars from Biarritz and San Sebastian kept driving up and parking
-around the square. They brought people for the bull-fight. Sight-seeing
-cars came up, too. There was one with twenty-five Englishwomen in it.
-They sat in the big, white car and looked through their glasses at the
-fiesta. The dancers were all quite drunk. It was the last day of the
-fiesta.
-
-The fiesta was solid and unbroken, but the motor-cars and tourist-cars
-made little islands of onlookers. When the cars emptied, the onlookers
-were absorbed into the crowd. You did not see them again except as sport
-clothes, odd-looking at a table among the closely packed peasants in
-black smocks. The fiesta absorbed even the Biarritz English so that you
-did not see them unless you passed close to a table. All the time there
-was music in the street. The drums kept on pounding and the pipes were
-going. Inside the cafés men with their hands gripping the table, or on
-each other’s shoulders, were singing the hard-voiced singing.
-
-“Here comes Brett,” Bill said.
-
-I looked and saw her coming through the crowd in the square, walking,
-her head up, as though the fiesta were being staged in her honor, and
-she found it pleasant and amusing.
-
-“Hello, you chaps!” she said. “I say, I _have_ a thirst.”
-
-“Get another big beer,” Bill said to the waiter.
-
-“Shrimps?”
-
-“Is Cohn gone?” Brett asked.
-
-“Yes,” Bill said. “He hired a car.”
-
-The beer came. Brett started to lift the glass mug and her hand shook.
-She saw it and smiled, and leaned forward and took a long sip.
-
-“Good beer.”
-
-“Very good,” I said. I was nervous about Mike. I did not think he had
-slept. He must have been drinking all the time, but he seemed to be
-under control.
-
-“I heard Cohn had hurt you, Jake,” Brett said.
-
-“No. Knocked me out. That was all.”
-
-“I say, he did hurt Pedro Romero,” Brett said. “He hurt him most badly.”
-
-“How is he?”
-
-“He’ll be all right. He won’t go out of the room.”
-
-“Does he look badly?”
-
-“Very. He was really hurt. I told him I wanted to pop out and see you
-chaps for a minute.”
-
-“Is he going to fight?”
-
-“Rather. I’m going with you, if you don’t mind.”
-
-“How’s your boy friend?” Mike asked. He had not listened to anything
-that Brett had said.
-
-“Brett’s got a bull-fighter,” he said. “She had a Jew named Cohn, but he
-turned out badly.”
-
-Brett stood up.
-
-“I am not going to listen to that sort of rot from you, Michael.”
-
-“How’s your boy friend?”
-
-“Damned well,” Brett said. “Watch him this afternoon.”
-
-“Brett’s got a bull-fighter,” Mike said. “A beautiful, bloody
-bull-fighter.”
-
-“Would you mind walking over with me? I want to talk to you, Jake.”
-
-“Tell him all about your bull-fighter,” Mike said. “Oh, to hell with
-your bull-fighter!” He tipped the table so that all the beers and the
-dish of shrimps went over in a crash.
-
-“Come on,” Brett said. “Let’s get out of this.”
-
-In the crowd crossing the square I said: “How is it?”
-
-“I’m not going to see him after lunch until the fight. His people come
-in and dress him. They’re very angry about me, he says.”
-
-Brett was radiant. She was happy. The sun was out and the day was
-bright.
-
-“I feel altogether changed,” Brett said. “You’ve no idea, Jake.”
-
-“Anything you want me to do?”
-
-“No, just go to the fight with me.”
-
-“We’ll see you at lunch?”
-
-“No. I’m eating with him.”
-
-We were standing under the arcade at the door of the hotel. They were
-carrying tables out and setting them up under the arcade.
-
-“Want to take a turn out to the park?” Brett asked. “I don’t want to go
-up yet. I fancy he’s sleeping.”
-
-We walked along past the theatre and out of the square and along through
-the barracks of the fair, moving with the crowd between the lines of
-booths. We came out on a cross-street that led to the Paseo de Sarasate.
-We could see the crowd walking there, all the fashionably dressed
-people. They were making the turn at the upper end of the park.
-
-“Don’t let’s go there,” Brett said. “I don’t want staring at just now.”
-
-We stood in the sunlight. It was hot and good after the rain and the
-clouds from the sea.
-
-“I hope the wind goes down,” Brett said. “It’s very bad for him.”
-
-“So do I.”
-
-“He says the bulls are all right.”
-
-“They’re good.”
-
-“Is that San Fermin’s?”
-
-Brett looked at the yellow wall of the chapel.
-
-“Yes. Where the show started on Sunday.”
-
-“Let’s go in. Do you mind? I’d rather like to pray a little for him or
-something.”
-
-We went in through the heavy leather door that moved very lightly. It
-was dark inside. Many people were praying. You saw them as your eyes
-adjusted themselves to the half-light. We knelt at one of the long
-wooden benches. After a little I felt Brett stiffen beside me, and saw
-she was looking straight ahead.
-
-“Come on,” she whispered throatily. “Let’s get out of here. Makes me
-damned nervous.”
-
-Outside in the hot brightness of the street Brett looked up at the
-tree-tops in the wind. The praying had not been much of a success.
-
-“Don’t know why I get so nervy in church,” Brett said. “Never does me
-any good.”
-
-We walked along.
-
-“I’m damned bad for a religious atmosphere,” Brett said. “I’ve the wrong
-type of face.
-
-“You know,” Brett said, “I’m not worried about him at all. I just feel
-happy about him.”
-
-“Good.”
-
-“I wish the wind would drop, though.”
-
-“It’s liable to go down by five o’clock.”
-
-“Let’s hope.”
-
-“You might pray,” I laughed.
-
-“Never does me any good. I’ve never gotten anything I prayed for. Have
-you?”
-
-“Oh, yes.”
-
-“Oh, rot,” said Brett. “Maybe it works for some people, though. You
-don’t look very religious, Jake.”
-
-“I’m pretty religious.”
-
-“Oh, rot,” said Brett. “Don’t start proselyting to-day. To-day’s going
-to be bad enough as it is.”
-
-It was the first time I had seen her in the old happy, careless way
-since before she went off with Cohn. We were back again in front of the
-hotel. All the tables were set now, and already several were filled with
-people eating.
-
-“Do look after Mike,” Brett said. “Don’t let him get too bad.”
-
-“Your frients haff gone up-stairs,” the German maître d’hôtel said in
-English. He was a continual eavesdropper. Brett turned to him:
-
-“Thank you, so much. Have you anything else to say?”
-
-“No, _ma’am_.”
-
-“Good,” said Brett.
-
-“Save us a table for three,” I said to the German. He smiled his dirty
-little pink-and-white smile.
-
-“Iss madam eating here?”
-
-“No,” Brett said.
-
-“Den I think a tabul for two will be enuff.”
-
-“Don’t talk to him,” Brett said. “Mike must have been in bad shape,” she
-said on the stairs. We passed Montoya on the stairs. He bowed and did
-not smile.
-
-“I’ll see you at the café,” Brett said. “Thank you, so much, Jake.”
-
-We had stopped at the floor our rooms were on. She went straight down
-the hall and into Romero’s room. She did not knock. She simply opened
-the door, went in, and closed it behind her.
-
-I stood in front of the door of Mike’s room and knocked. There was no
-answer. I tried the knob and it opened. Inside the room was in great
-disorder. All the bags were opened and clothing was strewn around. There
-were empty bottles beside the bed. Mike lay on the bed looking like a
-death mask of himself. He opened his eyes and looked at me.
-
-“Hello, Jake,” he said very slowly. “I’m getting a lit tle sleep. I’ve
-want ed a lit tle sleep for a long time.”
-
-“Let me cover you over.”
-
-“No. I’m quite warm.”
-
-“Don’t go. I have n’t got ten to sleep yet.”
-
-“You’ll sleep, Mike. Don’t worry, boy.”
-
-“Brett’s got a bull-fighter,” Mike said. “But her Jew has gone away.”
-
-He turned his head and looked at me.
-
-“Damned good thing, what?”
-
-“Yes. Now go to sleep, Mike. You ought to get some sleep.”
-
-“I’m just start ing. I’m go ing to get a lit tle sleep.”
-
-He shut his eyes. I went out of the room and turned the door to quietly.
-Bill was in my room reading the paper.
-
-“See Mike?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Let’s go and eat.”
-
-“I won’t eat down-stairs with that German head waiter. He was damned
-snotty when I was getting Mike up-stairs.”
-
-“He was snotty to us, too.”
-
-“Let’s go out and eat in the town.”
-
-We went down the stairs. On the stairs we passed a girl coming up with a
-covered tray.
-
-“There goes Brett’s lunch,” Bill said.
-
-“And the kid’s,” I said.
-
-Outside on the terrace under the arcade the German head waiter came up.
-His red cheeks were shiny. He was being polite.
-
-“I haff a tabul for two for you gentlemen,” he said.
-
-“Go sit at it,” Bill said. We went on out across the street.
-
-We ate at a restaurant in a side street off the square. They were all
-men eating in the restaurant. It was full of smoke and drinking and
-singing. The food was good and so was the wine. We did not talk much.
-Afterward we went to the café and watched the fiesta come to the
-boiling-point. Brett came over soon after lunch. She said she had looked
-in the room and that Mike was asleep.
-
-When the fiesta boiled over and toward the bull-ring we went with the
-crowd. Brett sat at the ringside between Bill and me. Directly below us
-was the callejon, the passageway between the stands and the red fence of
-the barrera. Behind us the concrete stands filled solidly. Out in front,
-beyond the red fence, the sand of the ring was smooth-rolled and yellow.
-It looked a little heavy from the rain, but it was dry in the sun and
-firm and smooth. The sword-handlers and bull-ring servants came down the
-callejon carrying on their shoulders the wicker baskets of fighting
-capes and muletas. They were bloodstained and compactly folded and
-packed in the baskets. The sword-handlers opened the heavy leather
-sword-cases so the red wrapped hilts of the sheaf of swords showed as
-the leather case leaned against the fence. They unfolded the
-dark-stained red flannel of the muletas and fixed batons in them to
-spread the stuff and give the matador something to hold. Brett watched
-it all. She was absorbed in the professional details.
-
-“He’s his name stencilled on all the capes and muletas,” she said. “Why
-do they call them muletas?”
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-“I wonder if they ever launder them.”
-
-“I don’t think so. It might spoil the color.”
-
-“The blood must stiffen them,” Bill said.
-
-“Funny,” Brett said. “How one doesn’t mind the blood.”
-
-Below in the narrow passage of the callejon the sword-handlers arranged
-everything. All the seats were full. Above, all the boxes were full.
-There was not an empty seat except in the President’s box. When he came
-in the fight would start. Across the smooth sand, in the high doorway
-that led into the corrals, the bull-fighters were standing, their arms
-furled in their capes, talking, waiting for the signal to march in
-across the arena. Brett was watching them with the glasses.
-
-“Here, would you like to look?”
-
-I looked through the glasses and saw the three matadors. Romero was in
-the centre, Belmonte on his left, Marcial on his right. Back of them
-were their people, and behind the banderilleros, back in the passageway
-and in the open space of the corral, I saw the picadors. Romero was
-wearing a black suit. His tricornered hat was low down over his eyes. I
-could not see his face clearly under the hat, but it looked badly
-marked. He was looking straight ahead. Marcial was smoking a cigarette
-guardedly, holding it in his hand. Belmonte looked ahead, his face wan
-and yellow, his long wolf jaw out. He was looking at nothing. Neither he
-nor Romero seemed to have anything in common with the others. They were
-all alone. The President came in; there was handclapping above us in the
-grand stand, and I handed the glasses to Brett. There was applause. The
-music started. Brett looked through the glasses.
-
-“Here, take them,” she said.
-
-Through the glasses I saw Belmonte speak to Romero. Marcial straightened
-up and dropped his cigarette, and, looking straight ahead, their heads
-back, their free arms swinging, the three matadors walked out. Behind
-them came all the procession, opening out, all striding in step, all the
-capes furled, everybody with free arms swinging, and behind rode the
-picadors, their pics rising like lances. Behind all came the two trains
-of mules and the bull-ring servants. The matadors bowed, holding their
-hats on, before the President’s box, and then came over to the barrera
-below us. Pedro Romero took off his heavy gold-brocaded cape and handed
-it over the fence to his sword-handler. He said something to the
-sword-handler. Close below us we saw Romero’s lips were puffed, both
-eyes were discolored. His face was discolored and swollen. The
-sword-handler took the cape, looked up at Brett, and came over to us and
-handed up the cape.
-
-“Spread it out in front of you,” I said.
-
-Brett leaned forward. The cape was heavy and smoothly stiff with gold.
-The sword-handler looked back, shook his head, and said something. A man
-beside me leaned over toward Brett.
-
-“He doesn’t want you to spread it,” he said. “You should fold it and
-keep it in your lap.”
-
-Brett folded the heavy cape.
-
-Romero did not look up at us. He was speaking to Belmonte. Belmonte had
-sent his formal cape over to some friends. He looked across at them and
-smiled, his wolf smile that was only with the mouth. Romero leaned over
-the barrera and asked for the water-jug. The sword-handler brought it
-and Romero poured water over the percale of his fighting-cape, and then
-scuffed the lower folds in the sand with his slippered foot.
-
-“What’s that for?” Brett asked.
-
-“To give it weight in the wind.”
-
-“His face looks bad,” Bill said.
-
-“He feels very badly,” Brett said. “He should be in bed.”
-
-The first bull was Belmonte’s. Belmonte was very good. But because he
-got thirty thousand pesetas and people had stayed in line all night to
-buy tickets to see him, the crowd demanded that he should be more than
-very good. Belmonte’s great attraction is working close to the bull. In
-bull-fighting they speak of the terrain of the bull and the terrain of
-the bull-fighter. As long as a bull-fighter stays in his own terrain he
-is comparatively safe. Each time he enters into the terrain of the bull
-he is in great danger. Belmonte, in his best days, worked always in the
-terrain of the bull. This way he gave the sensation of coming tragedy.
-People went to the corrida to see Belmonte, to be given tragic
-sensations, and perhaps to see the death of Belmonte. Fifteen years ago
-they said if you wanted to see Belmonte you should go quickly, while he
-was still alive. Since then he has killed more than a thousand bulls.
-When he retired the legend grew up about how his bull-fighting had been,
-and when he came out of retirement the public were disappointed because
-no real man could work as close to the bulls as Belmonte was supposed to
-have done, not, of course, even Belmonte.
-
-Also Belmonte imposed conditions and insisted that his bulls should not
-be too large, nor too dangerously armed with horns, and so the element
-that was necessary to give the sensation of tragedy was not there, and
-the public, who wanted three times as much from Belmonte, who was sick
-with a fistula, as Belmonte had ever been able to give, felt defrauded
-and cheated, and Belmonte’s jaw came further out in contempt, and his
-face turned yellower, and he moved with greater difficulty as his pain
-increased, and finally the crowd were actively against him, and he was
-utterly contemptuous and indifferent. He had meant to have a great
-afternoon, and instead it was an afternoon of sneers, shouted insults,
-and finally a volley of cushions and pieces of bread and vegetables,
-thrown down at him in the plaza where he had had his greatest triumphs.
-His jaw only went further out. Sometimes he turned to smile that
-toothed, long-jawed, lipless smile when he was called something
-particularly insulting, and always the pain that any movement produced
-grew stronger and stronger, until finally his yellow face was parchment
-color, and after his second bull was dead and the throwing of bread and
-cushions was over, after he had saluted the President with the same
-wolf-jawed smile and contemptuous eyes, and handed his sword over the
-barrera to be wiped, and put back in its case, he passed through into
-the callejon and leaned on the barrera below us, his head on his arms,
-not seeing, not hearing anything, only going through his pain. When he
-looked up, finally, he asked for a drink of water. He swallowed a
-little, rinsed his mouth, spat the water, took his cape, and went back
-into the ring.
-
-Because they were against Belmonte the public were for Romero. From the
-moment he left the barrera and went toward the bull they applauded him.
-Belmonte watched Romero, too, watched him always without seeming to. He
-paid no attention to Marcial. Marcial was the sort of thing he knew all
-about. He had come out of retirement to compete with Marcial, knowing it
-was a competition gained in advance. He had expected to compete with
-Marcial and the other stars of the decadence of bull-fighting, and he
-knew that the sincerity of his own bull-fighting would be so set off by
-the false æsthetics of the bull-fighters of the decadent period that he
-would only have to be in the ring. His return from retirement had been
-spoiled by Romero. Romero did always, smoothly, calmly, and beautifully,
-what he, Belmonte, could only bring himself to do now sometimes. The
-crowd felt it, even the people from Biarritz, even the American
-ambassador saw it, finally. It was a competition that Belmonte would not
-enter because it would lead only to a bad horn wound or death. Belmonte
-was no longer well enough. He no longer had his greatest moments in the
-bull-ring. He was not sure that there were any great moments. Things
-were not the same and now life only came in flashes. He had flashes of
-the old greatness with his bulls, but they were not of value because he
-had discounted them in advance when he had picked the bulls out for
-their safety, getting out of a motor and leaning on a fence, looking
-over at the herd on the ranch of his friend the bull-breeder. So he had
-two small, manageable bulls without much horns, and when he felt the
-greatness again coming, just a little of it through the pain that was
-always with him, it had been discounted and sold in advance, and it did
-not give him a good feeling. It was the greatness, but it did not make
-bull-fighting wonderful to him any more.
-
-Pedro Romero had the greatness. He loved bull-fighting, and I think he
-loved the bulls, and I think he loved Brett. Everything of which he
-could control the locality he did in front of her all that afternoon.
-Never once did he look up. He made it stronger that way, and did it for
-himself, too, as well as for her. Because he did not look up to ask if
-it pleased he did it all for himself inside, and it strengthened him,
-and yet he did it for her, too. But he did not do it for her at any loss
-to himself. He gained by it all through the afternoon.
-
-His first “quite” was directly below us. The three matadors take the
-bull in turn after each charge he makes at a picador. Belmonte was the
-first. Marcial was the second. Then came Romero. The three of them were
-standing at the left of the horse. The picador, his hat down over his
-eyes, the shaft of his pic angling sharply toward the bull, kicked in
-the spurs and held them and with the reins in his left hand walked the
-horse forward toward the bull. The bull was watching. Seemingly he
-watched the white horse, but really he watched the triangular steel
-point of the pic. Romero, watching, saw the bull start to turn his head.
-He did not want to charge. Romero flicked his cape so the color caught
-the bull’s eye. The bull charged with the reflex, charged, and found not
-the flash of color but a white horse, and a man leaned far over the
-horse, shot the steel point of the long hickory shaft into the hump of
-muscle on the bull’s shoulder, and pulled his horse sideways as he
-pivoted on the pic, making a wound, enforcing the iron into the bull’s
-shoulder, making him bleed for Belmonte.
-
-The bull did not insist under the iron. He did not really want to get at
-the horse. He turned and the group broke apart and Romero was taking him
-out with his cape. He took him out softly and smoothly, and then stopped
-and, standing squarely in front of the bull, offered him the cape. The
-bull’s tail went up and he charged, and Romero moved his arms ahead of
-the bull, wheeling, his feet firmed. The dampened, mud-weighted cape
-swung open and full as a sail fills, and Romero pivoted with it just
-ahead of the bull. At the end of the pass they were facing each other
-again. Romero smiled. The bull wanted it again, and Romero’s cape filled
-again, this time on the other side. Each time he let the bull pass so
-close that the man and the bull and the cape that filled and pivoted
-ahead of the bull were all one sharply etched mass. It was all so slow
-and so controlled. It was as though he were rocking the bull to sleep.
-He made four veronicas like that, and finished with a half-veronica that
-turned his back on the bull and came away toward the applause, his hand
-on his hip, his cape on his arm, and the bull watching his back going
-away.
-
-In his own bulls he was perfect. His first bull did not see well. After
-the first two passes with the cape Romero knew exactly how bad the
-vision was impaired. He worked accordingly. It was not brilliant
-bull-fighting. It was only perfect bull-fighting. The crowd wanted the
-bull changed. They made a great row. Nothing very fine could happen with
-a bull that could not see the lures, but the President would not order
-him replaced.
-
-“Why don’t they change him?” Brett asked.
-
-“They’ve paid for him. They don’t want to lose their money.”
-
-“It’s hardly fair to Romero.”
-
-“Watch how he handles a bull that can’t see the color.”
-
-“It’s the sort of thing I don’t like to see.”
-
-It was not nice to watch if you cared anything about the person who was
-doing it. With the bull who could not see the colors of the capes, or
-the scarlet flannel of the muleta, Romero had to make the bull consent
-with his body. He had to get so close that the bull saw his body, and
-would start for it, and then shift the bull’s charge to the flannel and
-finish out the pass in the classic manner. The Biarritz crowd did not
-like it They thought Romero was afraid, and that was why he gave that
-little sidestep each time as he transferred the bull’s charge from his
-own body to the flannel. They preferred Belmonte’s imitation of himself
-or Marcial’s imitation of Belmonte. There were three of them in the row
-behind us.
-
-“What’s he afraid of the bull for? The bull’s so dumb he only goes after
-the cloth.”
-
-“He’s just a young bull-fighter. He hasn’t learned it yet.”
-
-“But I thought he was fine with the cape before.”
-
-“Probably he’s nervous now.”
-
-Out in the centre of the ring, all alone, Romero was going on with the
-same thing, getting so close that the bull could see him plainly,
-offering the body, offering it again a little closer, the bull watching
-dully, then so close that the bull thought he had him, offering again
-and finally drawing the charge and then, just before the horns came,
-giving the bull the red cloth to follow with at little, almost
-imperceptible, jerk that so offended the critical judgment of the
-Biarritz bull-fight experts.
-
-“He’s going to kill now,” I said to Brett. “The bull’s still strong. He
-wouldn’t wear himself out.”
-
-Out in the centre of the ring Romero profiled in front of the bull, drew
-the sword out from the folds of the muleta, rose on his toes, and
-sighted along the blade. The bull charged as Romero charged. Romero’s
-left hand dropped the muleta over the bull’s muzzle to blind him, his
-left shoulder went forward between the horns as the sword went in, and
-for just an instant he and the bull were one, Romero way out over the
-bull, the right arm extended high up to where the hilt of the sword had
-gone in between the bull’s shoulders. Then the figure was broken. There
-was a little jolt as Romero came clear, and then he was standing, one
-hand up, facing the bull, his shirt ripped out from under his sleeve,
-the white blowing in the wind, and the bull, the red sword hilt tight
-between his shoulders, his head going down and his legs settling.
-
-“There he goes,” Bill said.
-
-Romero was close enough so the bull could see him. His hand still up, he
-spoke to the bull. The bull gathered himself, then his head went forward
-and he went over slowly, then all over, suddenly, four feet in the air.
-
-They handed the sword to Romero, and carrying it blade down, the muleta
-in his other hand, he walked over to in front of the President’s box,
-bowed, straightened, and came over to the barrera and handed over the
-sword and muleta.
-
-“Bad one,” said the sword-handler.
-
-“He made me sweat,” said Romero. He wiped off his face. The
-sword-handler handed him the water-jug. Romero wiped his lips. It hurt
-him to drink out of the jug. He did not look up at us.
-
-Marcial had a big day. They were still applauding him when Romero’s last
-bull came in. It was the bull that had sprinted out and killed the man
-in the morning running.
-
-During Romero’s first bull his hurt face had been very noticeable.
-Everything he did showed it. All the concentration of the awkwardly
-delicate working with the bull that could not see well brought it out.
-The fight with Cohn had not touched his spirit but his face had been
-smashed and his body hurt. He was wiping all that out now. Each thing
-that he did with this bull wiped that out a little cleaner. It was a
-good bull, a big bull, and with horns, and it turned and recharged
-easily and surely. He was what Romero wanted in bulls.
-
-When he had finished his work with the muleta and was ready to kill, the
-crowd made him go on. They did not want the bull killed yet, they did
-not want it to be over. Romero went on. It was like a course in
-bull-fighting. All the passes he linked up, all completed, all slow,
-templed and smooth. There were no tricks and no mystifications. There
-was no brusqueness. And each pass as it reached the summit gave you a
-sudden ache inside. The crowd did not want it ever to be finished.
-
-The bull was squared on all four feet to be killed, and Romero killed
-directly below us. He killed not as he had been forced to by the last
-bull, but as he wanted to. He profiled directly in front of the bull,
-drew the sword out of the folds of the muleta and sighted along the
-blade. The bull watched him. Romero spoke to the bull and tapped one of
-his feet. The bull charged and Romero waited for the charge, the muleta
-held low, sighting along the blade, his feet firm. Then without taking a
-step forward, he became one with the bull, the sword was in high between
-the shoulders, the bull had followed the low-swung flannel, that
-disappeared as Romero lurched clear to the left, and it was over. The
-bull tried to go forward, his legs commenced to settle, he swung from
-side to side, hesitated, then went down on his knees, and Romero’s older
-brother leaned forward behind him and drove a short knife into the
-bull’s neck at the base of the horns. The first time he missed. He drove
-the knife in again, and the bull went over, twitching and rigid.
-Romero’s brother, holding the bull’s horn in one hand, the knife in the
-other, looked up at the President’s box. Handkerchiefs were waving all
-over the bull-ring. The President looked down from the box and waved his
-handkerchief. The brother cut the notched black ear from the dead bull
-and trotted over with it to Romero. The bull lay heavy and black on the
-sand, his tongue out. Boys were running toward him from all parts of the
-arena, making a little circle around him. They were starting to dance
-around the bull.
-
-Romero took the ear from his brother and held it up toward the
-President. The President bowed and Romero, running to get ahead of the
-crowd, came toward us. He leaned up against the barrera and gave the ear
-to Brett. He nodded his head and smiled. The crowd were all about him.
-Brett held down the cape.
-
-“You liked it?” Romero called.
-
-Brett did not say anything. They looked at each other and smiled. Brett
-had the ear in her hand.
-
-“Don’t get bloody,” Romero said, and grinned. The crowd wanted him.
-Several boys shouted at Brett. The crowd was the boys, the dancers, and
-the drunks. Romero turned and tried to get through the crowd. They were
-all around him trying to lift him and put him on their shoulders. He
-fought and twisted away, and started running, in the midst of them,
-toward the exit. He did not want to be carried on people’s shoulders.
-But they held him and lifted him. It was uncomfortable and his legs were
-spraddled and his body was very sore. They were lifting him and all
-running toward the gate. He had his hand on somebody’s shoulder. He
-looked around at us apologetically. The crowd, running, went out the
-gate with him.
-
-We all three went back to the hotel. Brett went up-stairs. Bill and I
-sat in the down-stairs dining-room and ate some hard-boiled eggs and
-drank several bottles of beer. Belmonte came down in his street clothes
-with his manager and two other men. They sat at the next table and ate.
-Belmonte ate very little. They were leaving on the seven o’clock train
-for Barcelona. Belmonte wore a blue-striped shirt and a dark suit, and
-ate soft-boiled eggs. The others ate a big meal. Belmonte did not talk.
-He only answered questions.
-
-Bill was tired after the bull-fight. So was I. We both took a bull-fight
-very hard. We sat and ate the eggs and I watched Belmonte and the people
-at his table. The men with him were tough-looking and businesslike.
-
-“Come on over to the café,” Bill said. “I want an absinthe.”
-
-It was the last day of the fiesta. Outside it was beginning to be cloudy
-again. The square was full of people and the fireworks experts were
-making up their set pieces for the night and covering them over with
-beech branches. Boys were watching. We passed stands of rockets with
-long bamboo stems. Outside the café there was a great crowd. The music
-and the dancing were going on. The giants and the dwarfs were passing.
-
-“Where’s Edna?” I asked Bill.
-
-“I don’t know.”
-
-We watched the beginning of the evening of the last night of the fiesta.
-The absinthe made everything seem better. I drank it without sugar in
-the dripping glass, and it was pleasantly bitter.
-
-“I feel sorry about Cohn,” Bill said. “He had an awful time.”
-
-“Oh, to hell with Cohn,” I said.
-
-“Where do you suppose he went?”
-
-“Up to Paris.”
-
-“What do you suppose he’ll do?”
-
-“Oh, to hell with him.”
-
-“What do you suppose he’ll do?”
-
-“Pick up with his old girl, probably.”
-
-“Who was his old girl?”
-
-“Somebody named Frances.”
-
-We had another absinthe.
-
-“When do you go back?” I asked.
-
-“To-morrow.”
-
-After a little while Bill said: “Well, it was a swell fiesta.”
-
-“Yes,” I said; “something doing all the time.”
-
-“You wouldn’t believe it. It’s like a wonderful nightmare.”
-
-“Sure,” I said. “I’d believe anything. Including nightmares.”
-
-“What’s the matter? Feel low?”
-
-“Low as hell.”
-
-“Have another absinthe. Here, waiter! Another absinthe for this señor.”
-
-“I feel like hell,” I said.
-
-“Drink that,” said Bill. “Drink it slow.”
-
-It was beginning to get dark. The fiesta was going on. I began to feel
-drunk but I did not feel any better.
-
-“How do you feel?”
-
-“I feel like hell.”
-
-“Have another?”
-
-“It won’t do any good.”
-
-“Try it. You can’t tell; maybe this is the one that gets it. Hey,
-waiter! Another absinthe for this señor!”
-
-I poured the water directly into it and stirred it instead of letting it
-drip. Bill put in a lump of ice. I stirred the ice around with a spoon
-in the brownish, cloudy mixture.
-
-“How is it?”
-
-“Fine.”
-
-“Don’t drink it fast that way. It will make you sick.”
-
-I set down the glass. I had not meant to drink it fast.
-
-“I feel tight.”
-
-“You ought to.”
-
-“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
-
-“Sure. Get tight. Get over your damn depression.”
-
-“Well, I’m tight. Is that what you want?”
-
-“Sit down.”
-
-“I won’t sit down,” I said. “I’m going over to the hotel.”
-
-I was very drunk. I was drunker than I ever remembered having been. At
-the hotel I went up-stairs. Brett’s door was open. I put my head in the
-room. Mike was sitting on the bed. He waved a bottle.
-
-“Jake,” he said. “Come in, Jake.”
-
-I went in and sat down. The room was unstable unless I looked at some
-fixed point.
-
-“Brett, you know. She’s gone off with the bull-fighter chap.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Yes. She looked for you to say good-bye. They went on the seven o’clock
-train.”
-
-“Did they?”
-
-“Bad thing to do,” Mike said. “She shouldn’t have done it.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Have a drink? Wait while I ring for some beer.”
-
-“I’m drunk,” I said. “I’m going in and lie down.”
-
-“Are you blind? I was blind myself.”
-
-“Yes,” I said, “I’m blind.”
-
-“Well, bung-o,” Mike said. “Get some sleep, old Jake.”
-
-I went out the door and into my own room and lay on the bed. The bed
-went sailing off and I sat up in bed and looked at the wall to make it
-stop. Outside in the square the fiesta was going on. It did not mean
-anything. Later Bill and Mike came in to get me to go down and eat with
-them. I pretended to be asleep.
-
-“He’s asleep. Better let him alone.”
-
-“He’s blind as a tick,” Mike said. They went out.
-
-I got up and went to the balcony and looked out at the dancing in the
-square. The world was not wheeling any more. It was just very clear and
-bright, and inclined to blur at the edges. I washed, brushed my hair. I
-looked strange to myself in the glass, and went down-stairs to the
-dining-room.
-
-“Here he is!” said Bill. “Good old Jake! I knew you wouldn’t pass out.”
-
-“Hello, you old drunk,” Mike said.
-
-“I got hungry and woke up.”
-
-“Eat some soup,” Bill said.
-
-The three of us sat at the table, and it seemed as though about six
-people were missing.
-
-
-
-
- BOOK III
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER
- 19
-
-
-In the morning it was all over. The fiesta was finished. I woke about
-nine o’clock, had a bath, dressed, and went down-stairs. The square was
-empty and there were no people on the streets. A few children were
-picking up rocket-sticks in the square. The cafés were just opening and
-the waiters were carrying out the comfortable white wicker chairs and
-arranging them around the marble-topped tables in the shade of the
-arcade. They were sweeping the streets and sprinkling them with a hose.
-
-I sat in one of the wicker chairs and leaned back comfortably. The
-waiter was in no hurry to come. The white-paper announcements of the
-unloading of the bulls and the big schedules of special trains were
-still up on the pillars of the arcade. A waiter wearing a blue apron
-came out with a bucket of water and a cloth, and commenced to tear down
-the notices, pulling the paper off in strips and washing and rubbing
-away the paper that stuck to the stone. The fiesta was over.
-
-I drank a coffee and after a while Bill came over. I watched him come
-walking across the square. He sat down at the table and ordered a
-coffee.
-
-“Well,” he said, “it’s all over.”
-
-“Yes,” I said. “When do you go?”
-
-“I don’t know. We better get a car, I think. Aren’t you going back to
-Paris?”
-
-“No. I can stay away another week. I think I’ll go to San Sebastian.”
-
-“I want to get back.”
-
-“What’s Mike going to do?”
-
-“He’s going to Saint Jean de Luz.”
-
-“Let’s get a car and all go as far as Bayonne. You can get the train up
-from there to-night.”
-
-“Good. Let’s go after lunch.”
-
-“All right. I’ll get the car.”
-
-We had lunch and paid the bill. Montoya did not come near us. One of the
-maids brought the bill. The car was outside. The chauffeur piled and
-strapped the bags on top of the car and put them in beside him in the
-front seat and we got in. The car went out of the square, along through
-the side streets, out under the trees and down the hill and away from
-Pamplona. It did not seem like a very long ride. Mike had a bottle of
-Fundador. I only took a couple of drinks. We came over the mountains and
-out of Spain and down the white roads and through the overfoliaged, wet,
-green, Basque country, and finally into Bayonne. We left Bill’s baggage
-at the station, and he bought a ticket to Paris. His train left at
-seven-ten. We came out of the station. The car was standing out in
-front.
-
-“What shall we do about the car?” Bill asked.
-
-“Oh, bother the car,” Mike said. “Let’s just keep the car with us.”
-
-“All right,” Bill said. “Where shall we go?”
-
-“Let’s go to Biarritz and have a drink.”
-
-“Old Mike the spender,” Bill said.
-
-We drove in to Biarritz and left the car outside a very Ritz place. We
-went into the bar and sat on high stools and drank a whiskey and soda.
-
-“That drink’s mine,” Mike said.
-
-“Let’s roll for it.”
-
-So we rolled poker dice out of a deep leather dice-cup. Bill was out
-first roll. Mike lost to me and handed the bartender a hundred-franc
-note. The whiskeys were twelve francs apiece. We had another round and
-Mike lost again. Each time he gave the bartender a good tip. In a room
-off the bar there was a good jazz band playing. It was a pleasant bar.
-We had another round. I went out on the first roll with four kings. Bill
-and Mike rolled. Mike won the first roll with four jacks. Bill won the
-second. On the final roll Mike had three kings and let them stay. He
-handed the dice-cup to Bill. Bill rattled them and rolled, and there
-were three kings, an ace, and a queen.
-
-“It’s yours, Mike,” Bill said. “Old Mike, the gambler.”
-
-“I’m so sorry,” Mike said. “I can’t get it.”
-
-“What’s the matter?”
-
-“I’ve no money,” Mike said. “I’m stony. I’ve just twenty francs. Here,
-take twenty francs.”
-
-Bill’s face sort of changed.
-
-“I just had enough to pay Montoya. Damned lucky to have it, too.”
-
-“I’ll cash you a check,” Bill said.
-
-“That’s damned nice of you, but you see I can’t write checks.”
-
-“What are you going to do for money?”
-
-“Oh, some will come through. I’ve two weeks allowance should be here. I
-can live on tick at this pub in Saint Jean.”
-
-“What do you want to do about the car?” Bill asked me. “Do you want to
-keep it on?”
-
-“It doesn’t make any difference. Seems sort of idiotic.”
-
-“Come on, let’s have another drink,” Mike said.
-
-“Fine. This one is on me,” Bill said. “Has Brett any money?” He turned
-to Mike.
-
-“I shouldn’t think so. She put up most of what I gave to old Montoya.”
-
-“She hasn’t any money with her?” I asked.
-
-“I shouldn’t think so. She never has any money. She gets five hundred
-quid a year and pays three hundred and fifty of it in interest to Jews.”
-
-“I suppose they get it at the source,” said Bill.
-
-“Quite. They’re not really Jews. We just call them Jews. They’re
-Scotsmen, I believe.”
-
-“Hasn’t she any at all with her?” I asked.
-
-“I hardly think so. She gave it all to me when she left.”
-
-“Well,” Bill said, “we might as well have another drink.”
-
-“Damned good idea,” Mike said. “One never gets anywhere by discussing
-finances.”
-
-“No,” said Bill. Bill and I rolled for the next two rounds. Bill lost
-and paid. We went out to the car.
-
-“Anywhere you’d like to go, Mike?” Bill asked.
-
-“Let’s take a drive. It might do my credit good. Let’s drive about a
-little.”
-
-“Fine. I’d like to see the coast. Let’s drive down toward Hendaye.”
-
-“I haven’t any credit along the coast.”
-
-“You can’t ever tell,” said Bill.
-
-We drove out along the coast road. There was the green of the headlands,
-the white, red-roofed villas, patches of forest, and the ocean very blue
-with the tide out and the water curling far out along the beach. We
-drove through Saint Jean de Luz and passed through villages farther down
-the coast. Back of the rolling country we were going through we saw the
-mountains we had come over from Pamplona. The road went on ahead. Bill
-looked at his watch. It was time for us to go back. He knocked on the
-glass and told the driver to turn around. The driver backed the car out
-into the grass to turn it. In back of us were the woods, below a stretch
-of meadow, then the sea.
-
-At the hotel where Mike was going to stay in Saint Jean we stopped the
-car and he got out. The chauffeur carried in his bags. Mike stood by the
-side of the car.
-
-“Good-bye, you chaps,” Mike said. “It was a damned fine fiesta.”
-
-“So long, Mike,” Bill said.
-
-“I’ll see you around,” I said.
-
-“Don’t worry about money,” Mike said. “You can pay for the car, Jake,
-and I’ll send you my share.”
-
-“So long, Mike.”
-
-“So long, you chaps. You’ve been damned nice.”
-
-We all shook hands. We waved from the car to Mike. He stood in the road
-watching. We got to Bayonne just before the train left. A porter carried
-Bill’s bags in from the consigne. I went as far as the inner gate to the
-tracks.
-
-“So long, fella,” Bill said.
-
-“So long, kid!”
-
-“It was swell. I’ve had a swell time.”
-
-“Will you be in Paris?”
-
-“No, I have to sail on the 17th. So long, fella!”
-
-“So long, old kid!”
-
-He went in through the gate to the train. The porter went ahead with the
-bags. I watched the train pull out. Bill was at one of the windows. The
-window passed, the rest of the train passed, and the tracks were empty.
-I went outside to the car.
-
-“How much do we owe you?” I asked the driver. The price to Bayonne had
-been fixed at a hundred and fifty pesetas.
-
-“Two hundred pesetas.”
-
-“How much more will it be if you drive me to San Sebastian on your way
-back?”
-
-“Fifty pesetas.”
-
-“Don’t kid me.”
-
-“Thirty-five pesetas.”
-
-“It’s not worth it,” I said. “Drive me to the Hotel Panier Fleuri.”
-
-At the hotel I paid the driver and gave him a tip. The car was powdered
-with dust. I rubbed the rod-case through the dust. It seemed the last
-thing that connected me with Spain and the fiesta. The driver put the
-car in gear and went down the street. I watched it turn off to take the
-road to Spain. I went into the hotel and they gave me a room. It was the
-same room I had slept in when Bill and Cohn and I were in Bayonne. That
-seemed a very long time ago. I washed, changed my shirt, and went out in
-the town.
-
-At a newspaper kiosque I bought a copy of the New York _Herald_ and sat
-in a café to read it. It felt strange to be in France again. There was a
-safe, suburban feeling. I wished I had gone up to Paris with Bill,
-except that Paris would have meant more fiesta-ing. I was through with
-fiestas for a while. It would be quiet in San Sebastian. The season does
-not open there until August. I could get a good hotel room and read and
-swim. There was a fine beach there. There were wonderful trees along the
-promenade above the beach, and there were many children sent down with
-their nurses before the season opened. In the evening there would be
-band concerts under the trees across from the Café Marinas. I could sit
-in the Marinas and listen.
-
-“How does one eat inside?” I asked the waiter. Inside the café was a
-restaurant.
-
-“Well. Very well. One eats very well.”
-
-“Good.”
-
-I went in and ate dinner. It was a big meal for France but it seemed
-very carefully apportioned after Spain. I drank a bottle of wine for
-company. It was a Château Margaux. It was pleasant to be drinking slowly
-and to be tasting the wine and to be drinking alone. A bottle of wine
-was good company. Afterward I had coffee. The waiter recommended a
-Basque liqueur called Izzarra. He brought in the bottle and poured a
-liqueur-glass full. He said Izzarra was made of the flowers of the
-Pyrenees. The veritable flowers of the Pyrenees. It looked like hair-oil
-and smelled like Italian _strega_. I told him to take the flowers of the
-Pyrenees away and bring me a _vieux marc_. The _marc_ was good. I had a
-second _marc_ after the coffee.
-
-The waiter seemed a little offended about the flowers of the Pyrenees,
-so I overtipped him. That made him happy. It felt comfortable to be in a
-country where it is so simple to make people happy. You can never tell
-whether a Spanish waiter will thank you. Everything is on such a clear
-financial basis in France. It is the simplest country to live in. No one
-makes things complicated by becoming your friend for any obscure reason.
-If you want people to like you you have only to spend a little money. I
-spent a little money and the waiter liked me. He appreciated my valuable
-qualities. He would be glad to see me back. I would dine there again
-some time and he would be glad to see me, and would want me at his
-table. It would be a sincere liking because it would have a sound basis.
-I was back in France.
-
-Next morning I tipped every one a little too much at the hotel to make
-more friends, and left on the morning train for San Sebastian. At the
-station I did not tip the porter more than I should because I did not
-think I would ever see him again. I only wanted a few good French
-friends in Bayonne to make me welcome in case I should come back there
-again. I knew that if they remembered me their friendship would be
-loyal.
-
-At Irun we had to change trains and show passports. I hated to leave
-France. Life was so simple in France. I felt I was a fool to be going
-back into Spain. In Spain you could not tell about anything. I felt like
-a fool to be going back into it, but I stood in line with my passport,
-opened my bags for the customs, bought a ticket, went through a gate,
-climbed onto the train, and after forty minutes and eight tunnels I was
-at San Sebastian.
-
-Even on a hot day San Sebastian has a certain early-morning quality. The
-trees seem as though their leaves were never quite dry. The streets feel
-as though they had just been sprinkled. It is always cool and shady on
-certain streets on the hottest day. I went to a hotel in the town where
-I had stopped before, and they gave me a room with a balcony that opened
-out above the roofs of the town. There was a green mountainside beyond
-the roofs.
-
-I unpacked my bags and stacked my books on the table beside the head of
-the bed, put out my shaving things, hung up some clothes in the big
-armoire, and made up a bundle for the laundry. Then I took a shower in
-the bathroom and went down to lunch. Spain had not changed to
-summer-time, so I was early. I set my watch again. I had recovered an
-hour by coming to San Sebastian.
-
-As I went into the dining-room the concierge brought me a police
-bulletin to fill out. I signed it and asked him for two telegraph forms,
-and wrote a message to the Hotel Montoya, telling them to forward all
-mail and telegrams for me to this address. I calculated how many days I
-would be in San Sebastian and then wrote out a wire to the office asking
-them to hold mail, but forward all wires for me to San Sebastian for six
-days. Then I went in and had lunch.
-
-After lunch I went up to my room, read a while, and went to sleep. When
-I woke it was half past four. I found my swimming-suit, wrapped it with
-a comb in a towel, and went down-stairs and walked up the street to the
-Concha. The tide was about half-way out. The beach was smooth and firm,
-and the sand yellow. I went into a bathing-cabin, undressed, put on my
-suit, and walked across the smooth sand to the sea. The sand was warm
-under bare feet. There were quite a few people in the water and on the
-beach. Out beyond where the headlands of the Concha almost met to form
-the harbor there was a white line of breakers and the open sea. Although
-the tide was going out, there were a few slow rollers. They came in like
-undulations in the water, gathered weight of water, and then broke
-smoothly on the warm sand. I waded out. The water was cold. As a roller
-came I dove, swam out under water, and came to the surface with all the
-chill gone. I swam out to the raft, pulled myself up, and lay on the hot
-planks. A boy and girl were at the other end. The girl had undone the
-top strap of her bathing-suit and was browning her back. The boy lay
-face downward on the raft and talked to her. She laughed at things he
-said, and turned her brown back in the sun. I lay on the raft in the sun
-until I was dry. Then I tried several dives. I dove deep once, swimming
-down to the bottom. I swam with my eyes open and it was green and dark.
-The raft made a dark shadow. I came out of water beside the raft, pulled
-up, dove once more, holding it for length, and then swam ashore. I lay
-on the beach until I was dry, then went into the bathing-cabin, took off
-my suit, sloshed myself with fresh water, and rubbed dry.
-
-I walked around the harbor under the trees to the casino, and then up
-one of the cool streets to the Café Marinas. There was an orchestra
-playing inside the café and I sat out on the terrace and enjoyed the
-fresh coolness in the hot day, and had a glass of lemon-juice and shaved
-ice and then a long whiskey and soda. I sat in front of the Marinas for
-a long time and read and watched the people, and listened to the music.
-
-Later when it began to get dark, I walked around the harbor and out
-along the promenade, and finally back to the hotel for supper. There was
-a bicycle-race on, the Tour du Pays Basque, and the riders were stopping
-that night in San Sebastian. In the dining-room, at one side, there was
-a long table of bicycle-riders, eating with their trainers and managers.
-They were all French and Belgians, and paid close attention to their
-meal, but they were having a good time. At the head of the table were
-two good-looking French girls, with much Rue du Faubourg Montmartre
-chic. I could not make out whom they belonged to. They all spoke in
-slang at the long table and there were many private jokes and some jokes
-at the far end that were not repeated when the girls asked to hear them.
-The next morning at five o’clock the race resumed with the last lap, San
-Sebastian-Bilbao. The bicycle-riders drank much wine, and were burned
-and browned by the sun. They did not take the race seriously except
-among themselves. They had raced among themselves so often that it did
-not make much difference who won. Especially in a foreign country. The
-money could be arranged.
-
-The man who had a matter of two minutes lead in the race had an attack
-of boils, which were very painful. He sat on the small of his back. His
-neck was very red and the blond hairs were sunburned. The other riders
-joked him about his boils. He tapped on the table with his fork.
-
-“Listen,” he said, “to-morrow my nose is so tight on the handle-bars
-that the only thing touches those boils is a lovely breeze.”
-
-One of the girls looked at him down the table, and he grinned and turned
-red. The Spaniards, they said, did not know how to pedal.
-
-I had coffee out on the terrasse with the team manager of one of the big
-bicycle manufacturers. He said it had been a very pleasant race, and
-would have been worth watching if Bottechia had not abandoned it at
-Pamplona. The dust had been bad, but in Spain the roads were better than
-in France. Bicycle road-racing was the only sport in the world, he said.
-Had I ever followed the Tour de France? Only in the papers. The Tour de
-France was the greatest sporting event in the world. Following and
-organizing the road races had made him know France. Few people know
-France. All spring and all summer and all fall he spent on the road with
-bicycle road-racers. Look at the number of motor-cars now that followed
-the riders from town to town in a road race. It was a rich country and
-more _sportif_ every year. It would be the most _sportif_ country in the
-world. It was bicycle road-racing did it. That and football. He knew
-France. _La France Sportive._ He knew road-racing. We had a cognac.
-After all, though, it wasn’t bad to get back to Paris. There is only one
-Paname. In all the world, that is. Paris is the town the most _sportif_
-in the world. Did I know the _Chope de Negre_? Did I not. I would see
-him there some time. I certainly would. We would drink another _fine_
-together. We certainly would. They started at six o’clock less a quarter
-in the morning. Would I be up for the depart? I would certainly try to.
-Would I like him to call me? It was very interesting. I would leave a
-call at the desk. He would not mind calling me. I could not let him take
-the trouble. I would leave a call at the desk. We said good-bye until
-the next morning.
-
-In the morning when I awoke the bicycle-riders and their following cars
-had been on the road for three hours. I had coffee and the papers in bed
-and then dressed and took my bathing-suit down to the beach. Everything
-was fresh and cool and damp in the early morning. Nurses in uniform and
-in peasant costume walked under the trees with children. The Spanish
-children were beautiful. Some bootblacks sat together under a tree
-talking to a soldier. The soldier had only one arm. The tide was in and
-there was a good breeze and a surf on the beach.
-
-I undressed in one of the bath-cabins, crossed the narrow line of beach
-and went into the water. I swam out, trying to swim through the rollers,
-but having to dive sometimes. Then in the quiet water I turned and
-floated. Floating I saw only the sky, and felt the drop and lift of the
-swells. I swam back to the surf and coasted in, face down, on a big
-roller, then turned and swam, trying to keep in the trough and not have
-a wave break over me. It made me tired, swimming in the trough, and I
-turned and swam out to the raft. The water was buoyant and cold. It felt
-as though you could never sink. I swam slowly, it seemed like a long
-swim with the high tide, and then pulled up on the raft and sat,
-dripping, on the boards that were becoming hot in the sun. I looked
-around at the bay, the old town, the casino, the line of trees along the
-promenade, and the big hotels with their white porches and gold-lettered
-names. Off on the right, almost closing the harbor, was a green hill
-with a castle. The raft rocked with the motion of the water. On the
-other side of the narrow gap that led into the open sea was another high
-headland. I thought I would like to swim across the bay but I was afraid
-of cramp.
-
-I sat in the sun and watched the bathers on the beach. They looked very
-small. After a while I stood up, gripped with my toes on the edge of the
-raft as it tipped with my weight, and dove cleanly and deeply, to come
-up through the lightening water, blew the salt water out of my head, and
-swam slowly and steadily in to shore.
-
-After I was dressed and had paid for the bath-cabin, I walked back to
-the hotel. The bicycle-racers had left several copies of _L’Auto_
-around, and I gathered them up in the reading-room and took them out and
-sat in an easy chair in the sun to read about and catch up on French
-sporting life. While I was sitting there the concierge came out with a
-blue envelope in his hand.
-
-“A telegram for you, sir.”
-
-I poked my finger along under the fold that was fastened down, spread it
-open, and read it. It had been forwarded from Paris:
-
- COULD YOU COME HOTEL MONTANA MADRID
- AM RATHER IN TROUBLE BRETT.
-
-I tipped the concierge and read the message again. A postman was coming
-along the sidewalk. He turned in the hotel. He had a big moustache and
-looked very military. He came out of the hotel again. The concierge was
-just behind him.
-
-“Here’s another telegram for you, sir.”
-
-“Thank you,” I said.
-
-I opened it. It was forwarded from Pamplona.
-
- COULD YOU COME HOTEL MONTANA MADRID
- AM RATHER IN TROUBLE BRETT.
-
-The concierge stood there waiting for another tip, probably.
-
-“What time is there a train for Madrid?”
-
-“It left at nine this morning. There is a slow train at eleven, and the
-Sud Express at ten to-night.”
-
-“Get me a berth on the Sud Express. Do you want the money now?”
-
-“Just as you wish,” he said. “I will have it put on the bill.”
-
-“Do that.”
-
-Well, that meant San Sebastian all shot to hell. I suppose, vaguely, I
-had expected something of the sort. I saw the concierge standing in the
-doorway.
-
-“Bring me a telegram form, please.”
-
-He brought it and I took out my fountain-pen and printed:
-
- LADY ASHLEY HOTEL MONTANA MADRID
- ARRIVING SUD EXPRESS TOMORROW LOVE
- JAKE.
-
-That seemed to handle it. That was it. Send a girl off with one man.
-Introduce her to another to go off with him. Now go and bring her back.
-And sign the wire with love. That was it all right. I went in to lunch.
-
-I did not sleep much that night on the Sud Express. In the morning I had
-breakfast in the dining-car and watched the rock and pine country
-between Avila and Escorial. I saw the Escorial out of the window, gray
-and long and cold in the sun, and did not give a damn about it. I saw
-Madrid come up over the plain, a compact white sky-line on the top of a
-little cliff away off across the sun-hardened country.
-
-The Norte station in Madrid is the end of the line. All trains finish
-there. They don’t go on anywhere. Outside were cabs and taxis and a line
-of hotel runners. It was like a country town. I took a taxi and we
-climbed up through the gardens, by the empty palace and the unfinished
-church on the edge of the cliff, and on up until we were in the high,
-hot, modern town. The taxi coasted down a smooth street to the Puerta
-del Sol, and then through the traffic and out into the Carrera San
-Jeronimo. All the shops had their awnings down against the heat. The
-windows on the sunny side of the street were shuttered. The taxi stopped
-at the curb. I saw the sign HOTEL MONTANA on the second floor. The
-taxi-driver carried the bags in and left them by the elevator. I could
-not make the elevator work, so I walked up. On the second floor up was a
-cut brass sign: HOTEL MONTANA. I rang and no one came to the door. I
-rang again and a maid with a sullen face opened the door.
-
-“Is Lady Ashley here?” I asked.
-
-She looked at me dully.
-
-“Is an Englishwoman here?”
-
-She turned and called some one inside. A very fat woman came to the
-door. Her hair was gray and stiffly oiled in scallops around her face.
-She was short and commanding.
-
-“Muy buenos,” I said. “Is there an Englishwoman here? I would like to
-see this English lady.”
-
-“Muy buenos. Yes, there is a female English. Certainly you can see her
-if she wishes to see you.”
-
-“She wishes to see me.”
-
-“The chica will ask her.”
-
-“It is very hot.”
-
-“It is very hot in the summer in Madrid.”
-
-“And how cold in winter.”
-
-“Yes, it is very cold in winter.”
-
-Did I want to stay myself in person in the Hotel Montana?
-
-Of that as yet I was undecided, but it would give me pleasure if my bags
-were brought up from the ground floor in order that they might not be
-stolen. Nothing was ever stolen in the Hotel Montana. In other fondas,
-yes. Not here. No. The personages of this establishment were rigidly
-selectioned. I was happy to hear it. Nevertheless I would welcome the
-upbringal of my bags.
-
-The maid came in and said that the female English wanted to see the male
-English now, at once.
-
-“Good,” I said. “You see. It is as I said.”
-
-“Clearly.”
-
-I followed the maid’s back down a long, dark corridor. At the end she
-knocked on a door.
-
-“Hello,” said Brett. “Is it you, Jake?”
-
-“It’s me.”
-
-“Come in. Come in.”
-
-I opened the door. The maid closed it after me. Brett was in bed. She
-had just been brushing her hair and held the brush in her hand. The room
-was in that disorder produced only by those who have always had
-servants.
-
-“Darling!” Brett said.
-
-I went over to the bed and put my arms around her. She kissed me, and
-while she kissed me I could feel she was thinking of something else. She
-was trembling in my arms. She felt very small.
-
-“Darling! I’ve had such a hell of a time.”
-
-“Tell me about it.”
-
-“Nothing to tell. He only left yesterday. I made him go.”
-
-“Why didn’t you keep him?”
-
-“I don’t know. It isn’t the sort of thing one does. I don’t think I hurt
-him any.”
-
-“You were probably damn good for him.”
-
-“He shouldn’t be living with any one. I realized that right away.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Oh, hell!” she said, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s never talk about
-it.”
-
-“All right.”
-
-“It was rather a knock his being ashamed of me. He was ashamed of me for
-a while, you know.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Oh, yes. They ragged him about me at the café, I guess. He wanted me to
-grow my hair out. Me, with long hair. I’d look so like hell.”
-
-“It’s funny.”
-
-“He said it would make me more womanly. I’d look a fright.”
-
-“What happened?”
-
-“Oh, he got over that. He wasn’t ashamed of me long.”
-
-“What was it about being in trouble?”
-
-“I didn’t know whether I could make him go, and I didn’t have a sou to
-go away and leave him. He tried to give me a lot of money, you know. I
-told him I had scads of it. He knew that was a lie. I couldn’t take his
-money, you know.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Oh, let’s not talk about it. There were some funny things, though. Do
-give me a cigarette.”
-
-I lit the cigarette.
-
-“He learned his English as a waiter in Gib.”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“He wanted to marry me, finally.”
-
-“Really?”
-
-“Of course. I can’t even marry Mike.”
-
-“Maybe he thought that would make him Lord Ashley.”
-
-“No. It wasn’t that. He really wanted to marry me. So I couldn’t go away
-from him, he said. He wanted to make it sure I could never go away from
-him. After I’d gotten more womanly, of course.”
-
-“You ought to feel set up.”
-
-“I do. I’m all right again. He’s wiped out that damned Cohn.”
-
-“Good.”
-
-“You know I’d have lived with him if I hadn’t seen it was bad for him.
-We got along damned well.”
-
-“Outside of your personal appearance.”
-
-“Oh, he’d have gotten used to that.”
-
-She put out the cigarette.
-
-“I’m thirty-four, you know. I’m not going to be one of these bitches
-that ruins children.”
-
-“No.”
-
-“I’m not going to be that way. I feel rather good, you know. I feel
-rather set up.”
-
-“Good.”
-
-She looked away. I thought she was looking for another cigarette. Then I
-saw she was crying. I could feel her crying. Shaking and crying. She
-wouldn’t look up. I put my arms around her.
-
-“Don’t let’s ever talk about it. Please don’t let’s ever talk about it.”
-
-“Dear Brett.”
-
-“I’m going back to Mike.” I could feel her crying as I held her close.
-“He’s so damned nice and he’s so awful. He’s my sort of thing.”
-
-She would not look up. I stroked her hair. I could feel her shaking.
-
-“I won’t be one of those bitches,” she said. “But, oh, Jake, please
-let’s never talk about it.”
-
-We left the Hotel Montana. The woman who ran the hotel would not let me
-pay the bill. The bill had been paid.
-
-“Oh, well. Let it go,” Brett said. “It doesn’t matter now.”
-
-We rode in a taxi down to the Palace Hotel, left the bags, arranged for
-berths on the Sud Express for the night, and went into the bar of the
-hotel for a cocktail. We sat on high stools at the bar while the barman
-shook the Martinis in a large nickelled shaker.
-
-“It’s funny what a wonderful gentility you get in the bar of a big
-hotel,” I said.
-
-“Barmen and jockeys are the only people who are polite any more.”
-
-“No matter how vulgar a hotel is, the bar is always nice.”
-
-“It’s odd.”
-
-“Bartenders have always been fine.”
-
-“You know,” Brett said, “it’s quite true. He is only nineteen. Isn’t it
-amazing?”
-
-We touched the two glasses as they stood side by side on the bar. They
-were coldly beaded. Outside the curtained window was the summer heat of
-Madrid.
-
-“I like an olive in a Martini,” I said to the barman.
-
-“Right you are, sir. There you are.”
-
-“Thanks.”
-
-“I should have asked, you know.”
-
-The barman went far enough up the bar so that he would not hear our
-conversation. Brett had sipped from the Martini as it stood, on the
-wood. Then she picked it up. Her hand was steady enough to lift it after
-that first sip.
-
-“It’s good. Isn’t it a nice bar?”
-
-“They’re all nice bars.”
-
-“You know I didn’t believe it at first. He was born in 1905. I was in
-school in Paris, then. Think of that.”
-
-“Anything you want me to think about it?”
-
-“Don’t be an ass. _Would_ you buy a lady a drink?”
-
-“We’ll have two more Martinis.”
-
-“As they were before, sir?”
-
-“They were very good.” Brett smiled at him.
-
-“Thank you, ma’am.”
-
-“Well, bung-o,” Brett said.
-
-“Bung-o!”
-
-“You know,” Brett said, “he’d only been with two women before. He never
-cared about anything but bull-fighting.”
-
-“He’s got plenty of time.”
-
-“I don’t know. He thinks it was me. Not the show in general.”
-
-“Well, it was you.”
-
-“Yes. It was me.”
-
-“I thought you weren’t going to ever talk about it.”
-
-“How can I help it?”
-
-“You’ll lose it if you talk about it.”
-
-“I just talk around it. You know I feel rather damned good, Jake.”
-
-“You should.”
-
-“You know it makes one feel rather good deciding not to be a bitch.”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“It’s sort of what we have instead of God.”
-
-“Some people have God,” I said. “Quite a lot.”
-
-“He never worked very well with me.”
-
-“Should we have another Martini?”
-
-The barman shook up two more Martinis and poured them out into fresh
-glasses.
-
-“Where will we have lunch?” I asked Brett. The bar was cool. You could
-feel the heat outside through the window.
-
-“Here?” asked Brett.
-
-“It’s rotten here in the hotel. Do you know a place called Botin’s?” I
-asked the barman.
-
-“Yes, sir. Would you like to have me write out the address?”
-
-“Thank you.”
-
-We lunched up-stairs at Botin’s. It is one of the best restaurants in
-the world. We had roast young suckling pig and drank _rioja_ _alta_.
-Brett did not eat much. She never ate much. I ate a very big meal and
-drank three bottles of _rioja alta_.
-
-“How do you feel, Jake?” Brett asked. “My God! what a meal you’ve
-eaten.”
-
-“I feel fine. Do you want a dessert?”
-
-“Lord, no.”
-
-Brett was smoking.
-
-“You like to eat, don’t you?” she said.
-
-“Yes.” I said. “I like to do a lot of things.”
-
-“What do you like to do?”
-
-“Oh,” I said, “I like to do a lot of things. Don’t you want a dessert?”
-
-“You asked me that once,” Brett said.
-
-“Yes,” I said. “So I did. Let’s have another bottle of _rioja alta_.”
-
-“It’s very good.”
-
-“You haven’t drunk much of it,” I said.
-
-“I have. You haven’t seen.”
-
-“Let’s get two bottles,” I said. The bottles came. I poured a little in
-my glass, then a glass for Brett, then filled my glass. We touched
-glasses.
-
-“Bung-o!” Brett said. I drank my glass and poured out another. Brett put
-her hand on my arm.
-
-“Don’t get drunk, Jake,” she said. “You don’t have to.”
-
-“How do you know?”
-
-“Don’t,” she said. “You’ll be all right.”
-
-“I’m not getting drunk,” I said. “I’m just drinking a little wine. I
-like to drink wine.”
-
-“Don’t get drunk,” she said. “Jake, don’t get drunk.”
-
-“Want to go for a ride?” I said. “Want to ride through the town?”
-
-“Right,” Brett said. “I haven’t seen Madrid. I should see Madrid.”
-
-“I’ll finish this,” I said.
-
-Down-stairs we came out through the first-floor dining-room to the
-street. A waiter went for a taxi. It was hot and bright. Up the street
-was a little square with trees and grass where there were taxis parked.
-A taxi came up the street, the waiter hanging out at the side. I tipped
-him and told the driver where to drive, and got in beside Brett. The
-driver started up the street. I settled back. Brett moved close to me.
-We sat close against each other. I put my arm around her and she rested
-against me comfortably. It was very hot and bright, and the houses
-looked sharply white. We turned out onto the Gran Via.
-
-“Oh, Jake,” Brett said, “we could have had such a damned good time
-together.”
-
-Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He raised his
-baton. The car slowed suddenly pressing Brett against me.
-
-“Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”
-
- THE END
-
-
-
-
- Transcriber’s Notes
-
-
-Obvious printing errors have been silently corrected.
-
-Inconsistencies in hyphenation, spelling and punctuation have been
-preserved.
-
-
-
-
-
-
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- <body>
-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
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-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Sun Also Rises</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ernest Hemingway</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 10, 2022 [eBook #67138]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: This ebook was produced by: Marcia Brooks, Al Haines, Paulina Chin &amp; the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUN ALSO RISES ***</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='bold'>* A Distributed Proofreaders Canada eBook *</span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This ebook is made available at no cost and with very few
-restrictions. These restrictions apply only if (1) you make
-a change in the ebook (other than alteration for different
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-copyright in some countries. If you live outside Canada, check your
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-IN YOUR COUNTRY, DO NOT DOWNLOAD OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS FILE.</p>
-
-<div class='lgl' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Title:</span> The Sun Also Rises</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Date of first publication:</span> 1926</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Author:</span> Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961)</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Date first posted:</span> June 6, 2015</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Date last updated:</span> June 6, 2015</p>
-<p class='line0'>Faded Page eBook #20150622</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>This ebook was produced by: Marcia Brooks, Al Haines, Paulina Chin
-&amp; the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net</p>
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/img-cover.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0000' style='width:400px;height:593px;'/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.3em;'>ERNEST</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.5em;'>HEMINGWAY</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.8em;'>The Sun</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.8em;'>Also Rises</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0'>CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'><span class='it'>New York</span></p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Copyright, 1926, Charles Scribner’s Sons;</p>
-<p class='line0'>renewal copyright, 1954, Ernest Hemingway</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>All rights reserved. No part of this book</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>may be reproduced in any form without the</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons.</span></p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Printed in the United States of America</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:1.2em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.2em;'><span class='it'>This book is for</span> <span class='sc'>Hadley</span></p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.2em;'><span class='it'>and for</span> <span class='sc'>John Hadley Nicanor</span></p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote20'>
-
-<p class='noindent'>”You are all a lost generation.”</p>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;'>—<span class='sc'>Gertrude Stein</span> <span class='it'>in conversation</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='blockquote20'>
-
-<p class='noindent'>”One generation passeth away, and another generation
-cometh; but the earth abideth forever.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The sun also
-ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to the place
-where he arose.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The wind goeth toward the south,
-and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually,
-and the wind returneth again according to his
-circuits.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea
-is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come,
-thither they return again.”</p>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;'>—<span class='it'>Ecclesiastes</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:2em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:2em;'>BOOK I</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='3' id='Page_3'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>1</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of
-Princeton. Do not think that I am very much impressed by that
-as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for
-boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and
-thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness
-he had felt on being treated as a Jew at Princeton. There was a
-certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock down anybody
-who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a thoroughly
-nice boy, he never fought except in the gym. He was Spider
-Kelly’s star pupil. Spider Kelly taught all his young gentlemen to
-box like featherweights, no matter whether they weighed one
-hundred and five or two hundred and five pounds. But it seemed
-to fit Cohn. He was really very fast. He was so good that Spider
-promptly overmatched him and got his nose permanently flattened.
-This increased Cohn’s distaste for boxing, but it gave him
-a certain satisfaction of some strange sort, and it certainly improved
-his nose. In his last year at Princeton he read too much
-<span class='pageno' title='4' id='Page_4'></span>
-and took to wearing spectacles. I never met any one of his class
-who remembered him. They did not even remember that he was
-middleweight boxing champion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially when their
-stories hold together, and I always had a suspicion that perhaps
-Robert Cohn had never been middleweight boxing champion,
-and that perhaps a horse had stepped on his face, or that maybe
-his mother had been frightened or seen something, or that he had,
-maybe, bumped into something as a young child, but I finally had
-somebody verify the story from Spider Kelly. Spider Kelly not only
-remembered Cohn. He had often wondered what had become
-of him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Robert Cohn was a member, through his father, of one of the
-richest Jewish families in New York, and through his mother of
-one of the oldest. At the military school where he prepped for
-Princeton, and played a very good end on the football team, no
-one had made him race-conscious. No one had ever made him
-feel he was a Jew, and hence any different from anybody else,
-until he went to Princeton. He was a nice boy, a friendly boy,
-and very shy, and it made him bitter. He took it out in boxing, and
-he came out of Princeton with painful self-consciousness and the
-flattened nose, and was married by the first girl who was nice to
-him. He was married five years, had three children, lost most of
-the fifty thousand dollars his father left him, the balance of the
-estate having gone to his mother, hardened into a rather unattractive
-mould under domestic unhappiness with a rich wife; and
-just when he had made up his mind to leave his wife she left him
-and went off with a miniature-painter. As he had been thinking
-for months about leaving his wife and had not done it because it
-would be too cruel to deprive her of himself, her departure was a
-very healthful shock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The divorce was arranged and Robert Cohn went out to the
-Coast. In California he fell among literary people and, as he still
-<span class='pageno' title='5' id='Page_5'></span>
-had a little of the fifty thousand left, in a short time he was backing
-a review of the Arts. The review commenced publication in
-Carmel, California, and finished in Provincetown, Massachusetts.
-By that time Cohn, who had been regarded purely as an angel,
-and whose name had appeared on the editorial page merely as a
-member of the advisory board, had become the sole editor. It was
-his money and he discovered he liked the authority of editing. He
-was sorry when the magazine became too expensive and he had to
-give it up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>By that time, though, he had other things to worry about. He
-had been taken in hand by a lady who hoped to rise with the
-magazine. She was very forceful, and Cohn never had a chance of
-not being taken in hand. Also he was sure that he loved her.
-When this lady saw that the magazine was not going to rise, she
-became a little disgusted with Cohn and decided that she might
-as well get what there was to get while there was still something
-available, so she urged that they go to Europe, where Cohn could
-write. They came to Europe, where the lady had been educated,
-and stayed three years. During these three years, the first spent in
-travel, the last two in Paris, Robert Cohn had two friends, Braddocks
-and myself. Braddocks was his literary friend. I was his
-tennis friend.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The lady who had him, her name was Frances, found toward
-the end of the second year that her looks were going, and her
-attitude toward Robert changed from one of careless possession
-and exploitation to the absolute determination that he should
-marry her. During this time Robert’s mother had settled an allowance
-on him, about three hundred dollars a month. During
-two years and a half I do not believe that Robert Cohn looked
-at another woman. He was fairly happy, except that, like many
-people living in Europe, he would rather have been in America,
-and he had discovered writing. He wrote a novel, and it was not
-really such a bad novel as the critics later called it, although it
-<span class='pageno' title='6' id='Page_6'></span>
-was a very poor novel. He read many books, played bridge,
-played tennis, and boxed at a local gymnasium.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I first became aware of his lady’s attitude toward him one night
-after the three of us had dined together. We had dined at
-l’Avenue’s and afterward went to the Café de Versailles for coffee.
-We had several <span class='it'>fines</span> after the coffee, and I said I must be
-going. Cohn had been talking about the two of us going off somewhere
-on a weekend trip. He wanted to get out of town and get
-in a good walk. I suggested we fly to Strasbourg and walk up to
-Saint Odile, or somewhere or other in Alsace. “I know a girl in
-Strasbourg who can show us the town,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Somebody kicked me under the table. I thought it was accidental
-and went on: “She’s been there two years and knows
-everything there is to know about the town. She’s a swell girl.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was kicked again under the table and, looking, saw Frances,
-Robert’s lady, her chin lifting and her face hardening.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hell,” I said, “why go to Strasbourg? We could go up to Bruges,
-or to the Ardennes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn looked relieved. I was not kicked again. I said good-night
-and went out. Cohn said he wanted to buy a paper and would
-walk to the corner with me. “For God’s sake,” he said, “why did
-you say that about that girl in Strasbourg for? Didn’t you see
-Frances?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, why should I? If I know an American girl that lives in
-Strasbourg what the hell is it to Frances?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It doesn’t make any difference. Any girl. I couldn’t go, that
-would be all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be silly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t know Frances. Any girl at all. Didn’t you see the way
-she looked?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well,” I said, “let’s go to Senlis.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t get sore.”
-<span class='pageno' title='7' id='Page_7'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not sore. Senlis is a good place and we can stay at the
-Grand Cerf and take a hike in the woods and come home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good, that will be fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I’ll see you to-morrow at the courts,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-night, Jake,” he said, and started back to the café.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You forgot to get your paper,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s so.” He walked with me up to the kiosque at the corner.
-“You are not sore, are you, Jake?” He turned with the paper
-in his hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, why should I be?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See you at tennis,” he said. I watched him walk back to the
-café holding his paper. I rather liked him and evidently she led
-him quite a life.
-<span class='pageno' title='8' id='Page_8'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>2</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>That winter Robert Cohn went over to America with his novel,
-and it was accepted by a fairly good publisher. His going made
-an awful row I heard, and I think that was where Frances lost
-him, because several women were nice to him in New York, and
-when he came back he was quite changed. He was more enthusiastic
-about America than ever, and he was not so simple, and he
-was not so nice. The publishers had praised his novel pretty
-highly and it rather went to his head. Then several women had
-put themselves out to be nice to him, and his horizons had all
-shifted. For four years his horizon had been absolutely limited to
-his wife. For three years, or almost three years, he had never seen
-beyond Frances. I am sure he had never been in love in his life.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had married on the rebound from the rotten time he had in
-college, and Frances took him on the rebound from his discovery
-that he had not been everything to his first wife. He was not in
-love yet but he realized that he was an attractive quantity to
-women, and that the fact of a woman caring for him and wanting
-<span class='pageno' title='9' id='Page_9'></span>
-to live with him was not simply a divine miracle. This changed
-him so that he was not so pleasant to have around. Also, playing
-for higher stakes than he could afford in some rather steep bridge
-games with his New York connections, he had held cards and
-won several hundred dollars. It made him rather vain of his
-bridge game, and he talked several times of how a man could
-always make a living at bridge if he were ever forced to.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then there was another thing. He had been reading W.&nbsp;H.
-Hudson. That sounds like an innocent occupation, but Cohn had
-read and reread “The Purple Land.” “The Purple Land” is a very
-sinister book if read too late in life. It recounts splendid imaginary
-amorous adventures of a perfect English gentleman in an intensely
-romantic land, the scenery of which is very well described.
-For a man to take it at thirty-four as a guide-book to what life
-holds is about as safe as it would be for a man of the same age
-to enter Wall Street direct from a French convent, equipped with
-a complete set of the more practical Alger books. Cohn, I believe,
-took every word of “The Purple Land” as literally as though it
-had been an R.&nbsp;G. Dun report. You understand me, he made
-some reservations, but on the whole the book to him was sound.
-It was all that was needed to set him off. I did not realize the
-extent to which it had set him off until one day he came into
-my office.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Robert,” I said. “Did you come in to cheer me up?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would you like to go to South America, Jake?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. I never wanted to go. Too expensive. You can
-see all the South Americans you want in Paris anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re not the real South Americans.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They look awfully real to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I had a boat train to catch with a week’s mail stories, and only
-half of them written.
-<span class='pageno' title='10' id='Page_10'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know any dirt?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“None of your exalted connections getting divorces?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No; listen, Jake. If I handled both our expenses, would you
-go to South America with me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can talk Spanish. And it would be more fun with two of
-us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said, “I like this town and I go to Spain in the summer-time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All my life I’ve wanted to go on a trip like that,” Cohn said.
-He sat down. “I’ll be too old before I can ever do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be a fool,” I said. “You can go anywhere you want.
-You’ve got plenty of money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know. But I can’t get started.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Cheer up,” I said. “All countries look just like the moving
-pictures.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But I felt sorry for him. He had it badly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not
-really living it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bull-fighters.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not interested in bull-fighters. That’s an abnormal life. I
-want to go back in the country in South America. We could have
-a great trip.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you ever think about going to British East Africa to shoot?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I wouldn’t like that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d go there with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No; that doesn’t interest me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s because you never read a book about it. Go on and
-read a book all full of love affairs with the beautiful shiny black
-princesses.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to go to South America.”
-<span class='pageno' title='11' id='Page_11'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had a hard, Jewish, stubborn streak.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on down-stairs and have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t you working?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. We went down the stairs to the café on the ground
-floor. I had discovered that was the best way to get rid of friends.
-Once you had a drink all you had to say was: “Well, I’ve got to
-get back and get off some cables,” and it was done. It is very important
-to discover graceful exits like that in the newspaper business,
-where it is such an important part of the ethics that you
-should never seem to be working. Anyway, we went down-stairs
-to the bar and had a whiskey and soda. Cohn looked at the bottles
-in bins around the wall. “This is a good place,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a lot of liquor,” I agreed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen, Jake,” he leaned forward on the bar. “Don’t you ever
-get the feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking
-advantage of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time
-you have to live already?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, every once in a while.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know that in about thirty-five years more we’ll be
-dead?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What the hell, Robert,” I said. “What the hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m serious.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s one thing I don’t worry about,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve had plenty to worry about one time or other. I’m through
-worrying.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I want to go to South America.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen, Robert, going to another country doesn’t make any difference.
-I’ve tried all that. You can’t get away from yourself by
-moving from one place to another. There’s nothing to that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you’ve never been to South America.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“South America hell! If you went there the way you feel now it
-<span class='pageno' title='12' id='Page_12'></span>
-would be exactly the same. This is a good town. Why don’t you
-start living your life in Paris?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sick of Paris, and I’m sick of the Quarter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Stay away from the Quarter. Cruise around by yourself and
-see what happens to you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing happens to me. I walked alone all one night and
-nothing happened except a bicycle cop stopped me and asked to
-see my papers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wasn’t the town nice at night?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t care for Paris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So there you were. I was sorry for him, but it was not a thing
-you could do anything about, because right away you ran up
-against the two stubbornnesses: South America could fix it and
-he did not like Paris. He got the first idea out of a book, and I
-suppose the second came out of a book too.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “I’ve got to go up-stairs and get off some cables.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you really have to go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’ve got to get these cables off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you mind if I come up and sit around the office?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, come on up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He sat in the outer room and read the papers, and the Editor
-and Publisher and I worked hard for two hours. Then I sorted
-out the carbons, stamped on a by-line, put the stuff in a couple of
-big manila envelopes and rang for a boy to take them to the Gare
-St. Lazare. I went out into the other room and there was Robert
-Cohn asleep in the big chair. He was asleep with his head on his
-arms. I did not like to wake him up, but I wanted to lock the
-office and shove off. I put my hand on his shoulder. He shook his
-head. “I can’t do it,” he said, and put his head deeper into his
-arms. “I can’t do it. Nothing will make me do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Robert,” I said, and shook him by the shoulder. He looked up.
-He smiled and blinked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did I talk out loud just then?”
-<span class='pageno' title='13' id='Page_13'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Something. But it wasn’t clear.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God, what a rotten dream!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did the typewriter put you to sleep?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Guess so. I didn’t sleep all last night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What was the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Talking,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I could picture it. I have a rotten habit of picturing the bedroom
-scenes of my friends. We went out to the Café Napolitain to
-have an <span class='it'>apéritif</span> and watch the evening crowd on the Boulevard.
-<span class='pageno' title='14' id='Page_14'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>3</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>It was a warm spring night and I sat at a table on the terrace of
-the Napolitain after Robert had gone, watching it get dark and
-the electric signs come on, and the red and green stop-and-go
-traffic-signal, and the crowd going by, and the horse-cabs
-clippety-clopping along at the edge of the solid taxi traffic, and
-the <span class='it'>poules</span> going by, singly and in pairs, looking for the evening
-meal. I watched a good-looking girl walk past the table and
-watched her go up the street and lost sight of her, and watched
-another, and then saw the first one coming back again. She
-went by once more and I caught her eye, and she came over and
-sat down at the table. The waiter came up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what will you drink?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pernod.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not good for little girls.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Little girl yourself. Dites garçon, un pernod.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A pernod for me, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Going on a party?”
-<span class='pageno' title='15' id='Page_15'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. Aren’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. You never know in this town.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you like Paris?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t anywhere else.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re happy, all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Happy, hell!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Pernod is greenish imitation absinthe. When you add water it
-turns milky. It tastes like licorice and it has a good uplift, but it
-drops you just as far. We sat and drank it, and the girl looked
-sullen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “are you going to buy me a dinner?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She grinned and I saw why she made a point of not laughing.
-With her mouth closed she was a rather pretty girl. I paid for the
-saucers and we walked out to the street. I hailed a horse-cab and
-the driver pulled up at the curb. Settled back in the slow,
-smoothly rolling <span class='it'>fiacre</span> we moved up the Avenue de l’Opéra,
-passed the locked doors of the shops, their windows lighted, the
-Avenue broad and shiny and almost deserted. The cab passed
-the New York <span class='it'>Herald</span> bureau with the window full of clocks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are all the clocks for?” she asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They show the hour all over America.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t kid me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We turned off the Avenue up the Rue des Pyramides, through
-the traffic of the Rue de Rivoli, and through a dark gate into the
-Tuileries. She cuddled against me and I put my arm around her.
-She looked up to be kissed. She touched me with one hand and
-I put her hand away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never mind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter? You sick?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everybody’s sick. I’m sick, too.”
-<span class='pageno' title='16' id='Page_16'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We came out of the Tuileries into the light and crossed the
-Seine and then turned up the Rue des Saints Pères.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You oughtn’t to drink pernod if you’re sick.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You neither.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It doesn’t make any difference with me. It doesn’t make any
-difference with a woman.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you called?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Georgette. How are you called?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jacob.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s a Flemish name.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“American too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re not Flamand?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, American.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good, I detest Flamands.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>By this time we were at the restaurant. I called to the <span class='it'>cocher</span>
-to stop. We got out and Georgette did not like the looks of the
-place. “This is no great thing of a restaurant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “Maybe you would rather go to Foyot’s. Why don’t
-you keep the cab and go on?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I had picked her up because of a vague sentimental idea that
-it would be nice to eat with some one. It was a long time since I
-had dined with a <span class='it'>poule</span>, and I had forgotten how dull it could be.
-We went into the restaurant, passed Madame Lavigne at the
-desk and into a little room. Georgette cheered up a little under
-the food.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It isn’t bad here,” she said. “It isn’t chic, but the food is all
-right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Better than you eat in Liège.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brussels, you mean.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had another bottle of wine and Georgette made a joke.
-She smiled and showed all her bad teeth, and we touched
-glasses. “You’re not a bad type,” she said. “It’s a shame you’re
-sick. We get on well. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”
-<span class='pageno' title='17' id='Page_17'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I got hurt in the war,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that dirty war.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We would probably have gone on and discussed the war and
-agreed that it was in reality a calamity for civilization, and perhaps
-would have been better avoided. I was bored enough. Just
-then from the other room some one called: “Barnes! I say,
-Barnes! Jacob Barnes!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a friend calling me,” I explained, and went out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was Braddocks at a big table with a party: Cohn, Frances
-Clyne, Mrs. Braddocks, several people I did not know.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re coming to the dance, aren’t you?” Braddocks asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What dance?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, the dancings. Don’t you know we’ve revived them?”
-Mrs. Braddocks put in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You must come, Jake. We’re all going,” Frances said from the
-end of the table. She was tall and had a smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course, he’s coming,” Braddocks said. “Come in and have
-coffee with us, Barnes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And bring your friend,” said Mrs. Braddocks laughing. She
-was a Canadian and had all their easy social graces.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, we’ll be in,” I said. I went back to the small room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who are your friends?” Georgette asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Writers and artists.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There are lots of those on this side of the river.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Too many.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think so. Still, some of them make money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We finished the meal and the wine. “Come on,” I said. “We’re
-going to have coffee with the others.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Georgette opened her bag, made a few passes at her face as
-she looked in the little mirror, re-defined her lips with the lipstick,
-and straightened her hat.
-<span class='pageno' title='18' id='Page_18'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went into the room full of people and Braddocks and the
-men at his table stood up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish to present my fiancée, Mademoiselle Georgette
-Leblanc,” I said. Georgette smiled that wonderful smile, and we
-shook hands all round.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you related to Georgette Leblanc, the singer?” Mrs. Braddocks
-asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Connais pas,” Georgette answered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you have the same name,” Mrs. Braddocks insisted
-cordially.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Georgette. “Not at all. My name is Hobin.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But Mr. Barnes introduced you as Mademoiselle Georgette
-Leblanc. Surely he did,” insisted Mrs. Braddocks, who in the excitement
-of talking French was liable to have no idea what she
-was saying.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a fool,” Georgette said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, it was a joke, then,” Mrs. Braddocks said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said Georgette. “To laugh at.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you hear that, Henry?” Mrs. Braddocks called down the
-table to Braddocks. “Mr. Barnes introduced his fiancée as Mademoiselle
-Leblanc, and her name is actually Hobin.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course, darling. Mademoiselle Hobin, I’ve known her for a
-very long time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Mademoiselle Hobin,” Frances Clyne called, speaking
-French very rapidly and not seeming so proud and astonished as
-Mrs. Braddocks at its coming out really French. “Have you been
-in Paris long? Do you like it here? You love Paris, do you not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who’s she?” Georgette turned to me. “Do I have to talk to
-her?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned to Frances, sitting smiling, her hands folded, her
-head poised on her long neck, her lips pursed ready to start talking
-again.
-<span class='pageno' title='19' id='Page_19'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I don’t like Paris. It’s expensive and dirty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really? I find it so extraordinarily clean. One of the cleanest
-cities in all Europe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I find it dirty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How strange! But perhaps you have not been here very
-long.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve been here long enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But it does have nice people in it. One must grant that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Georgette turned to me. “You have nice friends.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Frances was a little drunk and would have liked to have kept
-it up but the coffee came, and Lavigne with the liqueurs, and
-after that we all went out and started for Braddocks’s dancing-club.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The dancing-club was a <span class='it'>bal musette</span> in the Rue de la Montagne
-Sainte Geneviève. Five nights a week the working people of the
-Pantheon quarter danced there. One night a week it was the
-dancing-club. On Monday nights it was closed. When we arrived
-it was quite empty, except for a policeman sitting near the door,
-the wife of the proprietor back of the zinc bar, and the proprietor
-himself. The daughter of the house came downstairs as
-we went in. There were long benches, and tables ran across the
-room, and at the far end a dancing-floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish people would come earlier,” Braddocks said. The
-daughter came up and wanted to know what we would drink.
-The proprietor got up on a high stool beside the dancing-floor and
-began to play the accordion. He had a string of bells around one
-of his ankles and beat time with his foot as he played. Every one
-danced. It was hot and we came off the floor perspiring.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God,” Georgette said. “What a box to sweat in!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s hot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hot, my God!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take off your hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s a good idea.”
-<span class='pageno' title='20' id='Page_20'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Some one asked Georgette to dance, and I went over to the bar.
-It was really very hot and the accordion music was pleasant in
-the hot night. I drank a beer, standing in the doorway and getting
-the cool breath of wind from the street. Two taxis were coming
-down the steep street. They both stopped in front of the Bal. A
-crowd of young men, some in jerseys and some in their shirt-sleeves,
-got out. I could see their hands and newly washed, wavy
-hair in the light from the door. The policeman standing by the
-door looked at me and smiled. They came in. As they went in,
-under the light I saw white hands, wavy hair, white faces, grimacing,
-gesturing, talking. With them was Brett. She looked very
-lovely and she was very much with them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One of them saw Georgette and said: “I do declare. There is
-an actual harlot. I’m going to dance with her, Lett. You watch
-me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The tall dark one, called Lett, said: “Don’t you be rash.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wavy blond one answered: “Don’t you worry, dear.” And
-with them was Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was very angry. Somehow they always made me angry. I
-know they are supposed to be amusing, and you should be tolerant,
-but I wanted to swing on one, any one, anything to shatter
-that superior, simpering composure. Instead, I walked down the
-street and had a beer at the bar at the next Bal. The beer was
-not good and I had a worse cognac to take the taste out of my
-mouth. When I came back to the Bal there was a crowd on the
-floor and Georgette was dancing with the tall blond youth, who
-danced big-hippily, carrying his head on one side, his eyes lifted
-as he danced. As soon as the music stopped another one of them
-asked her to dance. She had been taken up by them. I knew then
-that they would all dance with her. They are like that.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I sat down at a table. Cohn was sitting there. Frances was
-dancing. Mrs. Braddocks brought up somebody and introduced
-him as Robert Prentiss. He was from New York by way of
-<span class='pageno' title='21' id='Page_21'></span>
-Chicago, and was a rising new novelist. He had some sort of an
-English accent. I asked him to have a drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks so much,” he said, “I’ve just had one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, I will then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got the daughter of the house over and each had a <span class='it'>fine à
-l’eau</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re from Kansas City, they tell me,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you find Paris amusing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was a little drunk. Not drunk in any positive sense but just
-enough to be careless.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For God’s sake,” I said, “yes. Don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, how charmingly you get angry,” he said. “I wish I had that
-faculty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I got up and walked over toward the dancing-floor. Mrs. Braddocks
-followed me. “Don’t be cross with Robert,” she said.
-“He’s still only a child, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wasn’t cross,” I said. “I just thought perhaps I was going to
-throw up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your fiancée is having a great success,” Mrs. Braddocks looked
-out on the floor where Georgette was dancing in the arms of the
-tall, dark one, called Lett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t she?” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather,” said Mrs. Braddocks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn came up. “Come on, Jake,” he said, “have a drink.” We
-walked over to the bar. “What’s the matter with you? You seem all
-worked up over something?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing. This whole show makes me sick is all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett came up to the bar.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, you chaps.”
-<span class='pageno' title='22' id='Page_22'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Brett,” I said. “Why aren’t you tight?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never going to get tight any more. I say, give a chap a brandy
-and soda.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She stood holding the glass and I saw Robert Cohn looking at
-her. He looked a great deal as his compatriot must have looked
-when he saw the promised land. Cohn, of course, was much
-younger. But he had that look of eager, deserving expectation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett was damned good-looking. She wore a slipover jersey
-sweater and a tweed skirt, and her hair was brushed back like a
-boy’s. She started all that. She was built with curves like the hull
-of a racing yacht, and you missed none of it with that wool
-jersey.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a fine crowd you’re with, Brett,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t they lovely? And you, my dear. Where did you get it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“At the Napolitain.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And have you had a lovely evening?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, priceless,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett laughed. “It’s wrong of you, Jake. It’s an insult to all of
-us. Look at Frances there, and Jo.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This for Cohn’s benefit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s in restraint of trade,” Brett said. She laughed again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re wonderfully sober,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Aren’t I? And when one’s with the crowd I’m with, one
-can drink in such safety, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The music started and Robert Cohn said: “Will you dance this
-with me, Lady Brett?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett smiled at him. “I’ve promised to dance this with Jacob,”
-she laughed. “You’ve a hell of a biblical name, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How about the next?” asked Cohn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re going,” Brett said. “We’ve a date up at Montmartre.”
-Dancing, I looked over Brett’s shoulder and saw Cohn, standing
-at the bar, still watching her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve made a new one there,” I said to her.
-<span class='pageno' title='23' id='Page_23'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t talk about it. Poor chap. I never knew it till just now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well,” I said. “I suppose you like to add them up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t talk like a fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well. What if I do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing,” I said. We were dancing to the accordion and some
-one was playing the banjo. It was hot and I felt happy. We passed
-close to Georgette dancing with another one of them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What possessed you to bring her?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know, I just brought her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re getting damned romantic.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, bored.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, not now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s get out of here. She’s well taken care of.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you want to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would I ask you if I didn’t want to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We left the floor and I took my coat off a hanger on the wall
-and put it on. Brett stood by the bar. Cohn was talking to her.
-I stopped at the bar and asked them for an envelope. The patronne
-found one. I took a fifty-franc note from my pocket, put
-it in the envelope, sealed it, and handed it to the patronne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If the girl I came with asks for me, will you give her this?” I
-said. “If she goes out with one of those gentlemen, will you save
-this for me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“C’est entendu, Monsieur,” the patronne said. “You go now?
-So early?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We started out the door. Cohn was still talking to Brett. She
-said good night and took my arm. “Good night, Cohn,” I said.
-Outside in the street we looked for a taxi.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re going to lose your fifty francs,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes.”
-<span class='pageno' title='24' id='Page_24'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No taxis.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We could walk up to the Pantheon and get one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on and we’ll get a drink in the pub next door and send
-for one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t walk across the street.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not if I could help it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went into the next bar and I sent a waiter for a taxi.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “we’re out away from them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We stood against the tall zinc bar and did not talk and looked
-at each other. The waiter came and said the taxi was outside.
-Brett pressed my hand hard. I gave the waiter a franc and we
-went out. “Where should I tell him?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, tell him to drive around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I told the driver to go to the Parc Montsouris, and got in, and
-slammed the door. Brett was leaning back in the corner, her eyes
-closed. I got in and sat beside her. The cab started with a jerk.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, darling, I’ve been so miserable,” Brett said.
-<span class='pageno' title='25' id='Page_25'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>4</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>The taxi went up the hill, passed the lighted square, then on into
-the dark, still climbing, then levelled out onto a dark street behind
-St. Etienne du Mont, went smoothly down the asphalt,
-passed the trees and the standing bus at the Place de la Contrescarpe,
-then turned onto the cobbles of the Rue Mouffetard.
-There were lighted bars and late open shops on each side of the
-street. We were sitting apart and we jolted close together going
-down the old street. Brett’s hat was off. Her head was back. I
-saw her face in the lights from the open shops, then it was dark,
-then I saw her face clearly as we came out on the Avenue des
-Gobelins. The street was torn up and men were working on the
-car-tracks by the light of acetylene flares. Brett’s face was white
-and the long line of her neck showed in the bright light of the
-flares. The street was dark again and I kissed her. Our lips were
-tight together and then she turned away and pressed against the
-corner of the seat, as far away as she could get. Her head was
-down.
-<span class='pageno' title='26' id='Page_26'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t touch me,” she said. “Please don’t touch me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t stand it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Brett.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t. You must know. I can’t stand it, that’s all. Oh,
-darling, please understand!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you love me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Love you? I simply turn all to jelly when you touch me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t there anything we can do about it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She was sitting up now. My arm was around her and she was
-leaning back against me, and we were quite calm. She was looking
-into my eyes with that way she had of looking that made you
-wonder whether she really saw out of her own eyes. They would
-look on and on after every one else’s eyes in the world would have
-stopped looking. She looked as though there were nothing on
-earth she would not look at like that, and really she was afraid of
-so many things.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And there’s not a damn thing we could do,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to go through that hell
-again.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’d better keep away from each other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But, darling, I have to see you. It isn’t all that you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, but it always gets to be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s my fault. Don’t we pay for all the things we do, though?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She had been looking into my eyes all the time. Her eyes had
-different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Now you
-could see all the way into them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When I think of the hell I’ve put chaps through. I’m paying
-for it all now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t talk like a fool,” I said. “Besides, what happened to me
-is supposed to be funny. I never think about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no. I’ll lay you don’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, let’s shut up about it.”
-<span class='pageno' title='27' id='Page_27'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I laughed about it too, myself, once.” She wasn’t looking at
-me. “A friend of my brother’s came home that way from Mons.
-It seemed like a hell of a joke. Chaps never know anything, do
-they?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “Nobody ever knows anything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was pretty well through with the subject. At one time or another
-I had probably considered it from most of its various angles,
-including the one that certain injuries or imperfections are a subject
-of merriment while remaining quite serious for the person
-possessing them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s funny,” I said. “It’s very funny. And it’s a lot of fun, too,
-to be in love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you think so?” her eyes looked flat again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t mean fun that way. In a way it’s an enjoyable feeling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” she said. “I think it’s hell on earth.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s good to see each other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I don’t think it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you want to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were sitting now like two strangers. On the right was the
-Parc Montsouris. The restaurant where they have the pool of live
-trout and where you can sit and look out over the park was
-closed and dark. The driver leaned his head around.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where do you want to go?” I asked. Brett turned her head
-away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go to the Select.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Café Select,” I told the driver. “Boulevard Montparnasse.”
-We drove straight down, turning around the Lion de Belfort that
-guards the passing Montrouge trams. Brett looked straight ahead.
-On the Boulevard Raspail, with the lights of Montparnasse in
-sight, Brett said: “Would you mind very much if I asked you to
-do something?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be silly.”
-<span class='pageno' title='28' id='Page_28'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Kiss me just once more before we get there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When the taxi stopped I got out and paid. Brett came out putting
-on her hat. She gave me her hand as she stepped down. Her
-hand was shaky. “I say, do I look too much of a mess?” She
-pulled her man’s felt hat down and started in for the bar. Inside,
-against the bar and at tables, were most of the crowd who a
-been at the dance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, you chaps,” Brett said. “I’m going to have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Brett! Brett!” the little Greek portrait-painter, who called
-himself a duke, and whom everybody called Zizi, pushed up to
-her. “I got something fine to tell you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Zizi,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want you to meet a friend,” Zizi said. A fat man came up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Count Mippipopolous, meet my friend Lady Ashley.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you do?” said Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, does your Ladyship have a good time here in Paris?”
-asked Count Mippipopolous, who wore an elk’s tooth on his
-watch-chain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather,” said Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Paris is a fine town all right,” said the count. “But I guess you
-have pretty big doings yourself over in London.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes,” said Brett. “Enormous.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Braddocks called to me from a table. “Barnes,” he said, “have a
-drink. That girl of yours got in a frightful row.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What about?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Something the patronne’s daughter said. A corking row. She
-was rather splendid, you know. Showed her yellow card and demanded
-the patronne’s daughter’s too. I say it was a row.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What finally happened?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, some one took her home. Not a bad-looking girl. Wonderful
-command of the idiom. Do stay and have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “I must shove off. Seen Cohn?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He went home with Frances,” Mrs. Braddock put in.
-<span class='pageno' title='29' id='Page_29'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Poor chap, he looks awfully down,” Braddocks said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I dare say he is,” said Mrs. Braddocks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have to shove off,” I said. “Good night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I said good night to Brett at the bar. The count was buying
-champagne. “Will you take a glass of wine with us, sir?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Thanks awfully. I have to go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really going?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “I’ve got a rotten headache.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll see you to-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come in at the office.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hardly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, where will I see you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anywhere around five o’clock.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Make it the other side of town then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. I’ll be at the Crillon at five.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Try and be there,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t worry,” Brett said. “I’ve never let you down, have I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heard from Mike?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Letter to-day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good night, sir,” said the count.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went out onto the sidewalk and walked down toward the
-Boulevard St. Michel, passed the tables of the Rotonde, still
-crowded, looked across the street at the Dome, its tables running
-out to the edge of the pavement. Some one waved at me from a
-table, I did not see who it was and went on. I wanted to get
-home. The Boulevard Montparnasse was deserted. Lavigne’s was
-closed tight, and they were stacking the tables outside the
-Closerie des Lilas. I passed Ney’s statue standing among the new-leaved
-chestnut-trees in the arc-light. There was a faded purple
-wreath leaning against the base. I stopped and read the inscription:
-from the Bonapartist Groups, some date; I forget. He looked
-very fine, Marshal Ney in his top-boots, gesturing with his sword
-<span class='pageno' title='30' id='Page_30'></span>
-among the green new horse-chestnut leaves. My flat was just
-across the street, a little way down the Boulevard St. Michel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a light in the concierge’s room and I knocked on
-the door and she gave me my mail. I wished her good night
-and went up-stairs. There were two letters and some papers. I
-looked at them under the gas-light in the dining-room. The letters
-were from the States. One was a bank statement. It showed
-a balance of $2432.60. I got out my check-book and deducted four
-checks drawn since the first of the month, and discovered I had
-a balance of $1832.60. I wrote this on the back of the statement.
-The other letter was a wedding announcement. Mr. and Mrs.
-Aloysius Kirby announce the marriage of their daughter Katherine—I
-knew neither the girl nor the man she was marrying.
-They must be circularizing the town. It was a funny name. I felt
-sure I could remember anybody with a name like Aloysius. It
-was a good Catholic name. There was a crest on the announcement.
-Like Zizi the Greek duke. And that count. The count was
-funny. Brett had a title, too. Lady Ashley. To hell with Brett.
-To hell with you, Lady Ashley.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I lit the lamp beside the bed, turned off the gas, and opened
-the wide windows. The bed was far back from the windows,
-and I sat with the windows open and undressed by the bed. Outside
-a night train, running on the street-car tracks, went by carrying
-vegetables to the markets. They were noisy at night when
-you could not sleep. Undressing, I looked at myself in the mirror
-of the big armoire beside the bed. That was a typically French
-way to furnish a room. Practical, too, I suppose. Of all the ways
-to be wounded. I suppose it was funny. I put on my pajamas
-and got into bed. I had the two bull-fight papers, and I took their
-wrappers off. One was orange. The other yellow. They would
-both have the same news, so whichever I read first would spoil
-the other. <span class='it'>Le Toril</span> was the better paper, so I started to read it.
-I read it all the way through, including the Petite Correspondance
-<span class='pageno' title='31' id='Page_31'></span>
-and the Cornigrams. I blew out the lamp. Perhaps I would be
-able to sleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>My head started to work. The old grievance. Well, it was a rotten
-way to be wounded and flying on a joke front like the Italian.
-In the Italian hospital we were going to form a society. It had a
-funny name in Italian. I wonder what became of the others, the
-Italians. That was in the Ospedale Maggiore in Milano, Padiglione
-Ponte. The next building was the Padiglione Zonda. There
-was a statue of Ponte, or maybe it was Zonda. That was where
-the liaison colonel came to visit me. That was funny. That was
-about the first funny thing. I was all bandaged up. But they had
-told him about it. Then he made that wonderful speech: “You, a
-foreigner, an Englishman” (any foreigner was an Englishman)
-“have given more than your life.” What a speech! I would like to
-have it illuminated to hang in the office. He never laughed. He
-was putting himself in my place, I guess. “Che mala fortuna!
-Che mala fortuna!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I never used to realize it, I guess. I try and play it along and
-just not make trouble for people. Probably I never would have
-had any trouble if I hadn’t run into Brett when they shipped me
-to England. I suppose she only wanted what she couldn’t have.
-Well, people were that way. To hell with people. The Catholic
-Church had an awfully good way of handling all that. Good advice,
-anyway. Not to think about it. Oh, it was swell advice. Try
-and take it sometime. Try and take it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I lay awake thinking and my mind jumping around. Then I
-couldn’t keep away from it, and I started to think about Brett
-and all the rest of it went away. I was thinking about Brett and
-my mind stopped jumping around and started to go in sort of
-smooth waves. Then all of a sudden I started to cry. Then after
-a while it was better and I lay in bed and listened to the heavy
-trams go by and way down the street, and then I went to sleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I woke up. There was a row going on outside. I listened and I
-<span class='pageno' title='32' id='Page_32'></span>
-thought I recognized a voice. I put on a dressing-gown and went
-to the door. The concierge was talking down-stairs. She was very
-angry. I heard my name and called down the stairs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that you, Monsieur Barnes?” the concierge called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. It’s me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a species of woman here who’s waked the whole
-street up. What kind of a dirty business at this time of night! She
-says she must see you. I’ve told her you’re asleep.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then I heard Brett’s voice. Half asleep I had been sure it was
-Georgette. I don’t know why. She could not have known my
-address.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will you send her up, please?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett came up the stairs. I saw she was quite drunk. “Silly
-thing to do,” she said. “Make an awful row. I say, you weren’t
-asleep, were you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you think I was doing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t know. What time is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I looked at the clock. It was half-past four. “Had no idea
-what hour it was,” Brett said. “I say, can a chap sit down? Don’t
-be cross, darling. Just left the count. He brought me here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s he like?” I was getting brandy and soda and glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just a little,” said Brett. “Don’t try and make me drunk. The
-count? Oh, rather. He’s quite one of us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is he a count?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here’s how. I rather think so, you know. Deserves to be, anyhow.
-Knows hell’s own amount about people. Don’t know where
-he got it all. Owns a chain of sweetshops in the States.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She sipped at her glass.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Think he called it a chain. Something like that. Linked them
-all up. Told me a little about it. Damned interesting. He’s one of
-us, though. Oh, quite. No doubt. One can always tell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She took another drink.
-<span class='pageno' title='33' id='Page_33'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do I buck on about all this? You don’t mind, do you?
-He’s putting up for Zizi, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is Zizi really a duke, too?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t wonder. Greek, you know. Rotten painter. I rather
-liked the count.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you go with him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, everywhere. He just brought me here now. Offered me
-ten thousand dollars to go to Biarritz with him. How much is
-that in pounds?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Around two thousand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lot of money. I told him I couldn’t do it. He was awfully nice
-about it. Told him I knew too many people in Biarritz.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, you are slow on the up-take,” she said. I had only sipped
-my brandy and soda. I took a long drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s better. Very funny,” Brett said. “Then he wanted me to
-go to Cannes with him. Told him I knew too many people in
-Cannes. Monte Carlo. Told him I knew too many people in Monte
-Carlo. Told him I knew too many people everywhere. Quite true,
-too. So I asked him to bring me here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked at me, her hand on the table, her glass raised.
-“Don’t look like that,” she said. “Told him I was in love with you.
-True, too. Don’t look like that. He was damn nice about it.
-Wants to drive us out to dinner to-morrow night. Like to go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d better go now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just wanted to see you. Damned silly idea. Want to get dressed
-and come down? He’s got the car just up the street.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The count?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Himself. And a chauffeur in livery. Going to drive me around
-and have breakfast in the Bois. Hampers. Got it all at Zelli’s.
-Dozen bottles of Mumms. Tempt you?”
-<span class='pageno' title='34' id='Page_34'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have to work in the morning,” I said. “I’m too far behind you
-now to catch up and be any fun.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be an ass.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right. Send him a tender message?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anything. Absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good night, darling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be sentimental.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You make me ill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We kissed good night and Brett shivered. “I’d better go,” she
-said. “Good night, darling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t have to go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We kissed again on the stairs and as I called for the cordon
-the concierge muttered something behind her door. I went back
-up-stairs and from the open window watched Brett walking up
-the street to the big limousine drawn up to the curb under the
-arc-light. She got in and it started off. I turned around. On the
-table was an empty glass and a glass half-full of brandy and
-soda. I took them both out to the kitchen and poured the half-full
-glass down the sink. I turned off the gas in the dining-room,
-kicked off my slippers sitting on the bed, and got into bed. This
-was Brett, that I had felt like crying about. Then I thought of
-her walking up the street and stepping into the car, as I had last
-seen her, and of course in a little while I felt like hell again. It is
-awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime,
-but at night it is another thing.
-<span class='pageno' title='35' id='Page_35'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>5</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>In the morning I walked down the Boulevard to the rue Soufflot
-for coffee and brioche. It was a fine morning. The horse-chestnut
-trees in the Luxembourg gardens were in bloom. There was the
-pleasant early-morning feeling of a hot day. I read the papers
-with the coffee and then smoked a cigarette. The flower-women
-were coming up from the market and arranging their daily stock.
-Students went by going up to the law school, or down to the
-Sorbonne. The Boulevard was busy with trams and people going
-to work. I got on an S bus and rode down to the Madeleine,
-standing on the back platform. From the Madeleine I walked
-along the Boulevard des Capucines to the Opéra, and up to my
-office. I passed the man with the jumping frogs and the man with
-the boxer toys. I stepped aside to avoid walking into the thread
-with which his girl assistant manipulated the boxers. She was
-standing looking away, the thread in her folded hands. The man
-was urging two tourists to buy. Three more tourists had stopped
-and were watching. I walked on behind a man who was pushing
-<span class='pageno' title='36' id='Page_36'></span>
-a roller that printed the name CINZANO on the sidewalk in
-damp letters. All along people were going to work. It felt pleasant
-to be going to work. I walked across the avenue and turned in
-to my office.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Up-stairs in the office I read the French morning papers,
-smoked, and then sat at the typewriter and got off a good morning’s
-work. At eleven o’clock I went over to the Quai d’Orsay
-in a taxi and went in and sat with about a dozen correspondents,
-while the foreign-office mouthpiece, a young Nouvelle Revue
-Française diplomat in horn-rimmed spectacles, talked and answered
-questions for half an hour. The President of the Council
-was in Lyons making a speech, or, rather he was on his way
-back. Several people asked questions to hear themselves talk
-and there were a couple of questions asked by news service men
-who wanted to know the answers. There was no news. I shared a
-taxi back from the Quai d’Orsay with Woolsey and Krum.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you do nights, Jake?” asked Krum. “I never see you
-around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I’m over in the Quarter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m coming over some night. The Dingo. That’s the great
-place, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. That, or this new dive, The Select.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve meant to get over,” said Krum. “You know how it is,
-though, with a wife and kids.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Playing any tennis?” Woolsey asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, no,” said Krum. “I can’t say I’ve played any this year.
-I’ve tried to get away, but Sundays it’s always rained, and the
-courts are so damned crowded.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Englishmen all have Saturday off,” Woolsey said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lucky beggars,” said Krum. “Well, I’ll tell you. Some day I’m
-not going to be working for an agency. Then I’ll have plenty of
-time to get out in the country.”
-<span class='pageno' title='37' id='Page_37'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s the thing to do. Live out in the country and have a
-little car.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve been thinking some about getting a car next year.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I banged on the glass. The chauffeur stopped. “Here’s my
-street,” I said. “Come in and have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, old man,” Krum said. Woolsey shook his head. “I’ve
-got to file that line he got off this morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I put a two-franc piece in Krum’s hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re crazy, Jake,” he said. “This is on me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all on the office, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nope. I want to get it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I waved good-by. Krum put his head out. “See you at the lunch
-on Wednesday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You bet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went to the office in the elevator. Robert Cohn was waiting
-for me. “Hello, Jake,” he said. “Going out to lunch?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Let me see if there is anything new.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where will we eat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anywhere.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was looking over my desk. “Where do you want to eat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How about Wetzel’s? They’ve got good hors d’œuvres.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the restaurant we ordered hors d’œuvres and beer. The
-sommelier brought the beer, tall, beaded on the outside of the
-steins, and cold. There were a dozen different dishes of hors
-d’œuvres.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have any fun last night?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I don’t think so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’s the writing going?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rotten. I can’t get this second book going.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That happens to everybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I’m sure of that. It gets me worried, though.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thought any more about going to South America?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I mean that.”
-<span class='pageno' title='38' id='Page_38'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, why don’t you start off?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Frances.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “take her with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She wouldn’t like it. That isn’t the sort of thing she likes. She
-likes a lot of people around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell her to go to hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t. I’ve got certain obligations to her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shoved the sliced cucumbers away and took a pickled
-herring.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you know about Lady Brett Ashley, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Her name’s Lady Ashley. Brett’s her own name. She’s a nice
-girl,” I said. “She’s getting a divorce and she’s going to marry
-Mike Campbell. He’s over in Scotland now. Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’s a remarkably attractive woman.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t she?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a certain quality about her, a certain fineness. She
-seems to be absolutely fine and straight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’s very nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know how to describe the quality,” Cohn said. “I suppose
-it’s breeding.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You sound as though you liked her pretty well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do. I shouldn’t wonder if I were in love with her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’s a drunk,” I said. “She’s in love with Mike Campbell, and
-she’s going to marry him. He’s going to be rich as hell some
-day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t believe she’ll ever marry him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. I just don’t believe it. Have you known her a
-long time?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “She was a V.&nbsp;A.&nbsp;D. in a hospital I was in during
-the war.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She must have been just a kid then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’s thirty-four now.”
-<span class='pageno' title='39' id='Page_39'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When did she marry Ashley?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“During the war. Her own true love had just kicked off with
-the dysentery.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You talk sort of bitter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to give you the facts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t believe she would marry anybody she didn’t love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said. “She’s done it twice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t believe it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “don’t ask me a lot of fool questions if you don’t
-like the answers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t ask you that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You asked me what I knew about Brett Ashley.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t ask you to insult her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go to hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He stood up from the table his face white, and stood there
-white and angry behind the little plates of hors d’œuvres.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down,” I said. “Don’t be a fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got to take that back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, cut out the prep-school stuff.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take it back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. Anything. I never heard of Brett Ashley. How’s that?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Not that. About me going to hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t go to hell,” I said. “Stick around. We’re just starting
-lunch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn smiled again and sat down. He seemed glad to sit down.
-What the hell would he have done if he hadn’t sat down? “You
-say such damned insulting things, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry. I’ve got a nasty tongue. I never mean it when I say
-nasty things.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know it,” Cohn said. “You’re really about the best friend I
-have, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>God help you, I thought. “Forget what I said,” I said out loud.
-“I’m sorry.”
-<span class='pageno' title='40' id='Page_40'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all right. It’s fine. I was just sore for a minute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. Let’s get something else to eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After we finished the lunch we walked up to the Café de la
-Paix and had coffee. I could feel Cohn wanted to bring up Brett
-again, but I held him off it. We talked about one thing and another,
-and I left him to come to the office.
-<span class='pageno' title='41' id='Page_41'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>6</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>At five o’clock I was in the Hotel Crillon waiting for Brett. She
-was not there, so I sat down and wrote some letters. They were
-not very good letters but I hoped their being on Crillon stationery
-would help them. Brett did not turn up, so about quarter to six I
-went down to the bar and had a Jack Rose with George the barman.
-Brett had not been in the bar either, and so I looked for her
-up-stairs on my way out, and took a taxi to the Café Select. Crossing
-the Seine I saw a string of barges being towed empty down
-the current, riding high, the bargemen at the sweeps as they
-came toward the bridge. The river looked nice. It was always
-pleasant crossing bridges in Paris.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The taxi rounded the statue of the inventor of the semaphore
-engaged in doing same, and turned up the Boulevard Raspail,
-and I sat back to let that part of the ride pass. The Boulevard
-Raspail always made dull riding. It was like a certain stretch on
-the P.&nbsp;L.&nbsp;M. between Fontainebleau and Montereau that always
-made me feel bored and dead and dull until it was over. I suppose
-<span class='pageno' title='42' id='Page_42'></span>
-it is some association of ideas that makes those dead places
-in a journey. There are other streets in Paris as ugly as the Boulevard
-Raspail. It is a street I do not mind walking down at all.
-But I cannot stand to ride along it. Perhaps I had read something
-about it once. That was the way Robert Cohn was about
-all of Paris. I wondered where Cohn got that incapacity to enjoy
-Paris. Possibly from Mencken. Mencken hates Paris, I believe.
-So many young men get their likes and dislikes from Mencken.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The taxi stopped in front of the Rotonde. No matter what
-café in Montparnasse you ask a taxi-driver to bring you to from
-the right bank of the river, they always take you to the Rotonde.
-Ten years from now it will probably be the Dome. It was near
-enough, anyway. I walked past the sad tables of the Rotonde
-to the Select. There were a few people inside at the bar, and
-outside, alone, sat Harvey Stone. He had a pile of saucers in front
-of him, and he needed a shave.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down,” said Harvey, “I’ve been looking for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing. Just looking for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Been out to the races?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Not since Sunday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you hear from the States?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. I’m through with them. I’m absolutely through
-with them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He leaned forward and looked me in the eye.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you want to know something, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t had anything to eat for five days.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I figured rapidly back in my mind. It was three days ago that
-Harvey had won two hundred francs from me shaking poker dice
-in the New York Bar.
-<span class='pageno' title='43' id='Page_43'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No money. Money hasn’t come,” he paused. “I tell you it’s
-strange, Jake. When I’m like this I just want to be alone. I want
-to stay in my own room. I’m like a cat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I felt in my pocket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would a hundred help you any, Harvey?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on. Let’s go and eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s no hurry. Have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Better eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. When I get like this I don’t care whether I eat or not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had a drink. Harvey added my saucer to his own pile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know Mencken, Harvey?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s he like?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s all right. He says some pretty funny things. Last time I
-had dinner with him we talked about Hoffenheimer. ‘The trouble
-is,’ he said, ‘he’s a garter snapper.’ That’s not bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s through now,” Harvey went on. “He’s written about all
-the things he knows, and now he’s on all the things he doesn’t
-know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I guess he’s all right,” I said. “I just can’t read him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, nobody reads him now,” Harvey said, “except the people
-that used to read the Alexander Hamilton Institute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said. “That was a good thing, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” said Harvey. So we sat and thought deeply for a while.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another port?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” said Harvey.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There comes Cohn,” I said. Robert Cohn was crossing the
-street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That moron,” said Harvey. Cohn came up to our table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, you bums,” he said.
-<span class='pageno' title='44' id='Page_44'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Robert,” Harvey said. “I was just telling Jake here that
-you’re a moron.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell us right off. Don’t think. What would you rather do if you
-could do anything you wanted?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn started to consider.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t think. Bring it right out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” Cohn said. “What’s it all about, anyway?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I mean what would you rather do. What comes into your
-head first. No matter how silly it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” Cohn said. “I think I’d rather play football again
-with what I know about handling myself, now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I misjudged you,” Harvey said. “You’re not a moron. You’re
-only a case of arrested development.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re awfully funny, Harvey,” Cohn said. “Some day somebody
-will push your face in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Harvey Stone laughed. “You think so. They won’t, though.
-Because it wouldn’t make any difference to me. I’m not a fighter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would make a difference to you if anybody did it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, it wouldn’t. That’s where you make your big mistake. Because
-you’re not intelligent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Cut it out about me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” said Harvey. “It doesn’t make any difference to me.
-You don’t mean anything to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on, Harvey,” I said. “Have another porto.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he said. “I’m going up the street and eat. See you later,
-Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He walked out and up the street. I watched him crossing the
-street through the taxis, small, heavy, slowly sure of himself in
-the traffic.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He always gets me sore,” Cohn said. “I can’t stand him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like him,” I said. “I’m fond of him. You don’t want to get sore
-at him.”
-<span class='pageno' title='45' id='Page_45'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know it,” Cohn said. “He just gets on my nerves.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Write this afternoon?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I couldn’t get it going. It’s harder to do than my first book.
-I’m having a hard time handling it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sort of healthy conceit that he had when he returned from
-America early in the spring was gone. Then he had been sure of
-his work, only with these personal longings for adventure. Now
-the sureness was gone. Somehow I feel I have not shown Robert
-Cohn clearly. The reason is that until he fell in love with Brett,
-I never heard him make one remark that would, in any way, detach
-him from other people. He was nice to watch on the tennis-court,
-he had a good body, and he kept it in shape; he handled
-his cards well at bridge, and he had a funny sort of undergraduate
-quality about him. If he were in a crowd nothing he said stood
-out. He wore what used to be called polo shirts at school, and
-may be called that still, but he was not professionally youthful.
-I do not believe he thought about his clothes much. Externally
-he had been formed at Princeton. Internally he had been
-moulded by the two women who had trained him. He had a
-nice, boyish sort of cheerfulness that had never been trained out
-of him, and I probably have not brought it out. He loved to
-win at tennis. He probably loved to win as much as Lenglen, for
-instance. On the other hand, he was not angry at being beaten.
-When he fell in love with Brett his tennis game went all to pieces.
-People beat him who had never had a chance with him. He was
-very nice about it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Anyhow, we were sitting on the terrace of the Café Select, and
-Harvey Stone had just crossed the street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on up to the Lilas,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have a date.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What time?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Frances is coming here at seven-fifteen.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There she is.”
-<span class='pageno' title='46' id='Page_46'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Frances Clyne was coming toward us from across the street. She
-was a very tall girl who walked with a great deal of movement.
-She waved and smiled. We watched her cross the street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello,” she said, “I’m so glad you’re here, Jake. I’ve been wanting
-to talk to you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Frances,” said Cohn. He smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, hello, Robert. Are you here?” She went on, talking
-rapidly. “I’ve had the darndest time. This one”—shaking her head
-at Cohn—“didn’t come home for lunch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wasn’t supposed to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I know. But you didn’t say anything about it to the cook.
-Then I had a date myself, and Paula wasn’t at her office. I went
-to the Ritz and waited for her, and she never came, and of course
-I didn’t have enough money to lunch at the Ritz——”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, went out, of course.” She spoke in a sort of imitation joyful
-manner. “I always keep my appointments. No one keeps
-theirs, nowadays. I ought to know better. How are you, Jake,
-anyway?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was a fine girl you had at the dance, and then went off
-with that Brett one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you like her?” Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think she’s perfectly charming. Don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn said nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look, Jake. I want to talk with you. Would you come over
-with me to the Dome? You’ll stay here, won’t you, Robert? Come
-on, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We crossed the Boulevard Montparnasse and sat down at a
-table. A boy came up with the <span class='it'>Paris Times</span>, and I bought one and
-opened it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter, Frances?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, nothing,” she said, “except that he wants to leave me.”
-<span class='pageno' title='47' id='Page_47'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, he told every one that we were going to be married, and
-I told my mother and every one, and now he doesn’t want to
-do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s decided he hasn’t lived enough. I knew it would happen
-when he went to New York.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked up, very bright-eyed and trying to talk inconsequentially.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t marry him if he doesn’t want to. Of course I
-wouldn’t. I wouldn’t marry him now for anything. But it does
-seem to me to be a little late now, after we’ve waited three years,
-and I’ve just gotten my divorce.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I said nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We were going to celebrate so, and instead we’ve just had
-scenes. It’s so childish. We have dreadful scenes, and he cries and
-begs me to be reasonable, but he says he just can’t do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s rotten luck.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should say it is rotten luck. I’ve wasted two years and a half
-on him now. And I don’t know now if any man will ever want to
-marry me. Two years ago I could have married anybody I
-wanted, down at Cannes. All the old ones that wanted to marry
-somebody chic and settle down were crazy about me. Now I
-don’t think I could get anybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure, you could marry anybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I don’t believe it. And I’m fond of him, too. And I’d like
-to have children. I always thought we’d have children.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked at me very brightly. “I never liked children much,
-but I don’t want to think I’ll never have them. I always thought
-I’d have them and then like them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s got children.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. He’s got children, and he’s got money, and he’s got
-a rich mother, and he’s written a book, and nobody will publish
-<span class='pageno' title='48' id='Page_48'></span>
-my stuff; nobody at all. It isn’t bad, either. And I haven’t got any
-money at all. I could have had alimony, but I got the divorce the
-quickest way.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked at me again very brightly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It isn’t right. It’s my own fault and it’s not, too. I ought to have
-known better. And when I tell him he just cries and says he can’t
-marry. Why can’t he marry? I’d be a good wife. I’m easy to get
-along with. I leave him alone. It doesn’t do any good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a rotten shame.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, it is a rotten shame. But there’s no use talking about it, is
-there? Come on, let’s go back to the café.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And of course there isn’t anything I can do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Just don’t let him know I talked to you. I know what he
-wants.” Now for the first time she dropped her bright, terribly
-cheerful manner. “He wants to go back to New York alone, and
-be there when his book comes out so when a lot of little chickens
-like it. That’s what he wants.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Maybe they won’t like it. I don’t think he’s that way. Really.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t know him like I do, Jake. That’s what he wants to
-do. I know it. I know it. That’s why he doesn’t want to marry. He
-wants to have a big triumph this fall all by himself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to go back to the café?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got up from the table—they had never brought us a drink—and
-started across the street toward the Select, where Cohn sat
-smiling at us from behind the marble-topped table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, what are you smiling at?” Frances asked him. “Feel pretty
-happy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was smiling at you and Jake with your secrets.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, what I’ve told Jake isn’t any secret. Everybody will know
-it soon enough. I only wanted to give Jake a decent version.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What was it? About your going to England?”
-<span class='pageno' title='49' id='Page_49'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, about my going to England. Oh, Jake! I forgot to tell you.
-I’m going to England.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t that fine!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, that’s the way it’s done in the very best families. Robert’s
-sending me. He’s going to give me two hundred pounds and then
-I’m going to visit friends. Won’t it be lovely? The friends don’t
-know about it, yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned to Cohn and smiled at him. He was not smiling
-now.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were only going to give me a hundred pounds, weren’t
-you, Robert? But I made him give me two hundred. He’s really
-very generous. Aren’t you, Robert?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I do not know how people could say such terrible things to
-Robert Cohn. There are people to whom you could not say insulting
-things. They give you a feeling that the world would be
-destroyed, would actually be destroyed before your eyes, if you
-said certain things. But here was Cohn taking it all. Here it was,
-all going on right before me, and I did not even feel an impulse
-to try and stop it. And this was friendly joking to what went on
-later.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How can you say such things, Frances?” Cohn interrupted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen to him. I’m going to England. I’m going to visit friends.
-Ever visit friends that didn’t want you? Oh, they’ll have to take
-me, all right. ‘How do you do, my dear? Such a long time since
-we’ve seen you. And how is your dear mother?’ Yes, how is my
-dear mother? She put all her money into French war bonds. Yes,
-she did. Probably the only person in the world that did. ‘And what
-about Robert?’ or else very careful talking around Robert. ‘You
-must be most careful not to mention him, my dear. Poor Frances
-has had a most unfortunate experience.’ Won’t it be fun, Robert?
-Don’t you think it will be fun, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned to me with that terribly bright smile. It was very
-satisfactory to her to have an audience for this.
-<span class='pageno' title='50' id='Page_50'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And where are you going to be, Robert? It’s my own fault, all
-right. Perfectly my own fault. When I made you get rid of your
-little secretary on the magazine I ought to have known you’d get
-rid of me the same way. Jake doesn’t know about that. Should I
-tell him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shut up, Frances, for God’s sake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’ll tell him. Robert had a little secretary on the magazine.
-Just the sweetest little thing in the world, and he thought she
-was wonderful, and then I came along and he thought I was
-pretty wonderful, too. So I made him get rid of her, and he had
-brought her to Provincetown from Carmel when he moved the
-magazine, and he didn’t even pay her fare back to the coast. All
-to please me. He thought I was pretty fine, then. Didn’t you,
-Robert?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t misunderstand, Jake, it was absolutely platonic
-with the secretary. Not even platonic. Nothing at all, really. It
-was just that she was so nice. And he did that just to please me.
-Well, I suppose that we that live by the sword shall perish by the
-sword. Isn’t that literary, though? You want to remember that
-for your next book, Robert.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know Robert is going to get material for a new book.
-Aren’t you, Robert? That’s why he’s leaving me. He’s decided I
-don’t film well. You see, he was so busy all the time that we were
-living together, writing on this book, that he doesn’t remember
-anything about us. So now he’s going out and get some new
-material. Well, I hope he gets something frightfully interesting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen, Robert, dear. Let me tell you something. You won’t
-mind, will you? Don’t have scenes with your young ladies. Try
-not to. Because you can’t have scenes without crying, and then
-you pity yourself so much you can’t remember what the other
-person’s said. You’ll never be able to remember any conversations
-that way. Just try and be calm. I know it’s awfully hard. But
-remember, it’s for literature. We all ought to make sacrifices for
-<span class='pageno' title='51' id='Page_51'></span>
-literature. Look at me. I’m going to England without a protest.
-All for literature. We must all help young writers. Don’t you
-think so, Jake? But you’re not a young writer. Are you, Robert?
-You’re thirty-four. Still, I suppose that is young for a great writer.
-Look at Hardy. Look at Anatole France. He just died a little while
-ago. Robert doesn’t think he’s any good, though. Some of his
-French friends told him. He doesn’t read French very well himself.
-He wasn’t a good writer like you are, was he, Robert? Do you
-think he ever had to go and look for material? What do you suppose
-he said to his mistresses when he wouldn’t marry them? I
-wonder if he cried, too? Oh, I’ve just thought of something.” She
-put her gloved hand up to her lips. “I know the real reason why
-Robert won’t marry me, Jake. It’s just come to me. They’ve sent
-it to me in a vision in the Café Select. Isn’t it mystic? Some day
-they’ll put a tablet up. Like at Lourdes. Do you want to hear,
-Robert? I’ll tell you. It’s so simple. I wonder why I never thought
-about it. Why, you see, Robert’s always wanted to have a mistress,
-and if he doesn’t marry me, why, then he’s had one. She was his
-mistress for over two years. See how it is? And if he marries me,
-like he’s always promised he would, that would be the end of all
-the romance. Don’t you think that’s bright of me to figure that
-out? It’s true, too. Look at him and see if it’s not. Where are you
-going, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve got to go in and see Harvey Stone a minute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn looked up as I went in. His face was white. Why did he
-sit there? Why did he keep on taking it like that?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As I stood against the bar looking out I could see them through
-the window. Frances was talking on to him, smiling brightly,
-looking into his face each time she asked: “Isn’t it so, Robert?” Or
-maybe she did not ask that now. Perhaps she said something else.
-I told the barman I did not want anything to drink and went out
-through the side door. As I went out the door I looked back
-<span class='pageno' title='52' id='Page_52'></span>
-through the two thicknesses of glass and saw them sitting there.
-She was still talking to him. I went down a side street to the
-Boulevard Raspail. A taxi came along and I got in and gave the
-driver the address of my flat.
-<span class='pageno' title='53' id='Page_53'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>7</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>As I started up the stairs the concierge knocked on the glass of
-the door of her lodge, and as I stopped she came out. She had
-some letters and a telegram.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here is the post. And there was a lady here to see you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did she leave a card?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. She was with a gentleman. It was the one who was here
-last night. In the end I find she is very nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was she with a friend of mine?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. He was never here before. He was very large.
-Very, very large. She was very nice. Very, very nice. Last night
-she was, perhaps, a little—” She put her head on one hand and
-rocked it up and down. “I’ll speak perfectly frankly, Monsieur
-Barnes. Last night I found her not so gentille. Last night I formed
-another idea of her. But listen to what I tell you. She is très, très
-gentille. She is of very good family. It is a thing you can see.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They did not leave any word?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. They said they would be back in an hour.”
-<span class='pageno' title='54' id='Page_54'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Send them up when they come.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, Monsieur Barnes. And that lady, that lady there is some
-one. An eccentric, perhaps, but quelqu’une, quelqu’une!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The concierge, before she became a concierge, had owned a
-drink-selling concession at the Paris race-courses. Her life-work
-lay in the pelouse, but she kept an eye on the people of the
-pesage, and she took great pride in telling me which of my guests
-were well brought up, which were of good family, who were
-sportsmen, a French word pronounced with the accent on the
-men. The only trouble was that people who did not fall into any
-of those three categories were very liable to be told there was no
-one home, chez Barnes. One of my friends, an extremely underfed-looking
-painter, who was obviously to Madame Duzinell
-neither well brought up, of good family, nor a sportsman,
-wrote me a letter asking if I could get him a pass to get by the
-concierge so he could come up and see me occasionally in the
-evenings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went up to the flat wondering what Brett had done to the
-concierge. The wire was a cable from Bill Gorton, saying he was
-arriving on the <span class='it'>France</span>. I put the mail on the table, went back to
-the bedroom, undressed and had a shower. I was rubbing down
-when I heard the door-bell pull. I put on a bathrobe and slippers
-and went to the door. It was Brett. Back of her was the count. He
-was holding a great bunch of roses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, darling,” said Brett. “Aren’t you going to let us in?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on. I was just bathing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t you the fortunate man. Bathing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Only a shower. Sit down, Count Mippipopolous. What will you
-drink?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know whether you like flowers, sir,” the count said,
-“but I took the liberty of just bringing these roses.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here, give them to me.” Brett took them. “Get me some water
-in this, Jake.” I filled the big earthenware jug with water in the
-<span class='pageno' title='55' id='Page_55'></span>
-kitchen, and Brett put the roses in it, and placed them in the
-centre of the dining-room table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. We have had a day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t remember anything about a date with me at the
-Crillon?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Did we have one? I must have been blind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were quite drunk, my dear,” said the count.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wasn’t I, though? And the count’s been a brick, absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got hell’s own drag with the concierge now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I ought to have. Gave her two hundred francs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be a damned fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“His,” she said, and nodded at the count.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought we ought to give her a little something for last
-night. It was very late.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s wonderful,” Brett said. “He remembers everything that’s
-happened.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So do you, my dear.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fancy,” said Brett. “Who’d want to? I say, Jake, <span class='it'>do</span> we get a
-drink?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You get it while I go in and dress. You know where it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>While I dressed I heard Brett put down glasses and then a
-siphon, and then heard them talking. I dressed slowly, sitting on
-the bed. I felt tired and pretty rotten. Brett came in the room, a
-glass in her hand, and sat on the bed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter, darling? Do you feel rocky?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She kissed me coolly on the forehead.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Brett, I love you so much.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Darling,” she said. Then: “Do you want me to send him
-away?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. He’s nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll send him away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, don’t.”
-<span class='pageno' title='56' id='Page_56'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’ll send him away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can’t just like that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t I, though? You stay here. He’s mad about me, I tell you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She was gone out of the room. I lay face down on the bed. I
-was having a bad time. I heard them talking but I did not listen.
-Brett came in and sat on the bed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Poor old darling.” She stroked my head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you say to him?” I was lying with my face away
-from her. I did not want to see her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sent him for champagne. He loves to go for champagne.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then later: “Do you feel better, darling? Is the head any
-better?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s better.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lie quiet. He’s gone to the other side of town.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Couldn’t we live together, Brett? Couldn’t we just live together?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think so. I’d just <span class='it'>tromper</span> you with everybody. You
-couldn’t stand it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I stand it now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That would be different. It’s my fault, Jake. It’s the way I’m
-made.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Couldn’t we go off in the country for a while?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It wouldn’t be any good. I’ll go if you like. But I couldn’t live
-quietly in the country. Not with my own true love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t it rotten? There isn’t any use my telling you I love you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know I love you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s not talk. Talking’s all bilge. I’m going away from you,
-and then Michael’s coming back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why are you going away?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Better for you. Better for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When are you going?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Soon as I can.”
-<span class='pageno' title='57' id='Page_57'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“San Sebastian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t we go together?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. That would be a hell of an idea after we’d just talked it
-out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We never agreed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you know as well as I do. Don’t be obstinate, darling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, sure,” I said. “I know you’re right. I’m just low, and when
-I’m low I talk like a fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I sat up, leaned over, found my shoes beside the bed and put
-them on. I stood up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t look like that, darling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you want me to look?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t be a fool. I’m going away to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Didn’t I say so? I am.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s have a drink, then. The count will be back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. He should be back. You know he’s extraordinary about
-buying champagne. It means any amount to him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went into the dining-room. I took up the brandy bottle and
-poured Brett a drink and one for myself. There was a ring at the
-bell-pull. I went to the door and there was the count. Behind him
-was the chauffeur carrying a basket of champagne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where should I have him put it, sir?” asked the count.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In the kitchen,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Put it in there, Henry,” the count motioned. “Now go down
-and get the ice.” He stood looking after the basket inside the
-kitchen door. “I think you’ll find that’s very good wine,” he said.
-“I know we don’t get much of a chance to judge good wine in the
-States now, but I got this from a friend of mine that’s in the
-business.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you always have some one in the trade,” Brett said.
-<span class='pageno' title='58' id='Page_58'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This fellow raises the grapes. He’s got thousands of acres of
-them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s his name?” asked Brett. “Veuve Cliquot?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said the count. “Mumms. He’s a baron.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t it wonderful,” said Brett. “We all have titles. Why
-haven’t you a title, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I assure you, sir,” the count put his hand on my arm. “It never
-does a man any good. Most of the time it costs you money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I don’t know. It’s damned useful sometimes,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve never known it to do me any good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You haven’t used it properly. I’ve had hell’s own amount of
-credit on mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do sit down, count,” I said. “Let me take that stick.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The count was looking at Brett across the table under the gas-light.
-She was smoking a cigarette and flicking the ashes on the
-rug. She saw me notice it. “I say, Jake, I don’t want to ruin your
-rugs. Can’t you give a chap an ash-tray?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I found some ash-trays and spread them around. The chauffeur
-came up with a bucket full of salted ice. “Put two bottles in it,
-Henry,” the count called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anything else, sir?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Wait down in the car.” He turned to Brett and to me.
-“We’ll want to ride out to the Bois for dinner?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If you like,” Brett said. “I couldn’t eat a thing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I always like a good meal,” said the count.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Should I bring the wine in, sir?” asked the chauffeur.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Bring it in, Henry,” said the count. He took out a heavy
-pigskin cigar-case and offered it to me. “Like to try a real American
-cigar?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll finish the cigarette.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He cut off the end of his cigar with a gold cutter he wore on
-one end of his watch-chain.
-<span class='pageno' title='59' id='Page_59'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like a cigar to really draw,” said the count “Half the cigars
-you smoke don’t draw.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He lit the cigar, puffed at it, looking across the table at Brett.
-“And when you’re divorced, Lady Ashley, then you won’t have
-a title.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. What a pity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said the count. “You don’t need a title. You got class all
-over you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks. Awfully decent of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not joking you,” the count blew a cloud of smoke. “You got
-the most class of anybody I ever seen. You got it. That’s all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nice of you,” said Brett. “Mummy would be pleased. Couldn’t
-you write it out, and I’ll send it in a letter to her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d tell her, too,” said the count. “I’m not joking you. I never
-joke people. Joke people and you make enemies. That’s what I
-always say.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re right,” Brett said. “You’re terribly right. I always joke
-people and I haven’t a friend in the world. Except Jake here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t joke him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you, now?” asked the count. “Do you joke him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett looked at me and wrinkled up the corners of her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” she said. “I wouldn’t joke him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See,” said the count. “You don’t joke him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is a hell of a dull talk,” Brett said. “How about some of
-that champagne?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The count reached down and twirled the bottles in the shiny
-bucket. “It isn’t cold, yet. You’re always drinking, my dear. Why
-don’t you just talk?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve talked too ruddy much. I’ve talked myself all out to Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should like to hear you really talk, my dear. When you talk
-to me you never finish your sentences at all.”
-<span class='pageno' title='60' id='Page_60'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Leave ’em for you to finish. Let any one finish them as they
-like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a very interesting system,” the count reached down and
-gave the bottles a twirl. “Still I would like to hear you talk some
-time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t he a fool?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now,” the count brought up a bottle. “I think this is cool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I brought a towel and he wiped the bottle dry and held it up.
-“I like to drink champagne from magnums. The wine is better
-but it would have been too hard to cool.” He held the bottle,
-looking at it. I put out the glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. You might open it,” Brett suggested.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, my dear. Now I’ll open it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was amazing champagne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say that is wine,” Brett held up her glass. “We ought to toast
-something. ‘Here’s to royalty.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. You don’t
-want to mix emotions up with a wine like that. You lose the
-taste.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett’s glass was empty.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought to write a book on wines, count,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Barnes,” answered the count, “all I want out of wines is to
-enjoy them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s enjoy a little more of this,” Brett pushed her glass forward.
-The count poured very carefully. “There, my dear. Now
-you enjoy that slowly, and then you can get drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Drunk? Drunk?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My dear, you are charming when you are drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen to the man.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Barnes,” the count poured my glass full. “She is the only
-lady I have ever known who was as charming when she was drunk
-as when she was sober.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You haven’t been around much, have you?”
-<span class='pageno' title='61' id='Page_61'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, my dear. I have been around very much. I have been
-around a very great deal.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Drink your wine,” said Brett. “We’ve all been around. I dare
-say Jake here has seen as much as you have.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My dear, I am sure Mr. Barnes has seen a lot. Don’t think I
-don’t think so, sir. I have seen a lot, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course you have, my dear,” Brett said. “I was only ragging.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have been in seven wars and four revolutions,” the count
-said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Soldiering?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sometimes, my dear. And I have got arrow wounds. Have you
-ever seen arrow wounds?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s have a look at them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The count stood up, unbuttoned his vest, and opened his shirt.
-He pulled up the undershirt onto his chest and stood, his chest
-black, and big stomach muscles bulging under the light.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You see them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Below the line where his ribs stopped were two raised white
-welts. “See on the back where they come out.” Above the small
-of the back were the same two scars, raised as thick as a finger.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. Those are something.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Clean through.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The count was tucking in his shirt.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you get those?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In Abyssinia. When I was twenty-one years old.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What were you doing?” asked Brett. “Were you in the army?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was on a business trip, my dear.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I told you he was one of us. Didn’t I?” Brett turned to me.
-“I love you, count. You’re a darling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You make me very happy, my dear. But it isn’t true.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be an ass.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You see, Mr. Barnes, it is because I have lived very much that
-now I can enjoy everything so well. Don’t you find it like that?”
-<span class='pageno' title='62' id='Page_62'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know,” said the count. “That is the secret. You must get to
-know the values.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t anything ever happen to your values?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Not any more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never fall in love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Always,” said the count. “I am always in love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What does that do to your values?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That, too, has got a place in my values.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You haven’t any values. You’re dead, that’s all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, my dear. You’re not right. I’m not dead at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We drank three bottles of the champagne and the count left
-the basket in my kitchen. We dined at a restaurant in the Bois.
-It was a good dinner. Food had an excellent place in the count’s
-values. So did wine. The count was in fine form during the meal.
-So was Brett. It was a good party.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where would you like to go?” asked the count after dinner.
-We were the only people left in the restaurant. The two waiters
-were standing over against the door. They wanted to go home.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We might go up on the hill,” Brett said. “Haven’t we had a
-splendid party?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The count was beaming. He was very happy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are very nice people,” he said. He was smoking a cigar
-again. “Why don’t you get married, you two?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We want to lead our own lives,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We have our careers,” Brett said. “Come on. Let’s get out of
-this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another brandy,” the count said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get it on the hill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Have it here where it is quiet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You and your quiet,” said Brett. “What is it men feel about
-quiet?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We like it,” said the count. “Like you like noise, my dear.”
-<span class='pageno' title='63' id='Page_63'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” said Brett. “Let’s have one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sommelier!” the count called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is the oldest brandy you have?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eighteen eleven, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bring us a bottle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. Don’t be ostentatious. Call him off, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen, my dear. I get more value for my money in old brandy
-than in any other antiquities.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Got many antiquities?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I got a houseful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Finally we went up to Montmartre. Inside Zelli’s it was
-crowded, smoky, and noisy. The music hit you as you went in.
-Brett and I danced. It was so crowded we could barely move.
-The nigger drummer waved at Brett. We were caught in the jam,
-dancing in one place in front of him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hahre you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Great.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thaats good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was all teeth and lips.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a great friend of mine,” Brett said. “Damn good
-drummer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The music stopped and we started toward the table where the
-count sat. Then the music started again and we danced. I looked
-at the count. He was sitting at the table smoking a cigar. The
-music stopped again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett started toward the table. The music started and again we
-danced, tight in the crowd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are a rotten dancer, Jake. Michael’s the best dancer I
-know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s splendid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s got his points.”
-<span class='pageno' title='64' id='Page_64'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like him,” I said. “I’m damned fond of him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to marry him,” Brett said. “Funny. I haven’t thought
-about him for a week.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you write him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not I. Never write letters.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll bet he writes to you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather. Damned good letters, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When are you going to get married?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do I know? As soon as we can get the divorce. Michael’s
-trying to get his mother to put up for it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Could I help you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be an ass. Michael’s people have loads of money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The music stopped. We walked over to the table. The count
-stood up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very nice,” he said. “You looked very, very nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you dance, count?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I’m too old.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, come off it,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My dear, I would do it if I would enjoy it. I enjoy to watch
-you dance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Splendid,” Brett said. “I’ll dance again for you some time. I
-say. What about your little friend, Zizi?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let me tell you. I support that boy, but I don’t want to have
-him around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He is rather hard.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know I think that boy’s got a future. But personally I
-don’t want him around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jake’s rather the same way.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He gives me the willys.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” the count shrugged his shoulders. “About his future you
-can’t ever tell. Anyhow, his father was a great friend of my father.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on. Let’s dance,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We danced. It was crowded and close.
-<span class='pageno' title='65' id='Page_65'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, darling,” Brett said, “I’m so miserable.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I had that feeling of going through something that has all happened
-before. “You were happy a minute ago.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The drummer shouted: “You can’t two time—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all gone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. I just feel terribly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” the drummer chanted. Then turned to his sticks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I had the feeling as in a nightmare of it all being something
-repeated, something I had been through and that now I must go
-through again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” the drummer sang softly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go,” said Brett. “You don’t mind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” the drummer shouted and grinned at Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” I said. We got out from the crowd. Brett went to the
-dressing-room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett wants to go,” I said to the count. He nodded. “Does she?
-That’s fine. You take the car. I’m going to stay here for a while,
-Mr. Barnes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We shook hands.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was a wonderful time,” I said. “I wish you would let me get
-this.” I took a note out of my pocket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Barnes, don’t be ridiculous,” the count said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett came over with her wrap on. She kissed the count and
-put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing up. As
-we went out the door I looked back and there were three girls at
-his table. We got into the big car. Brett gave the chauffeur the
-address of her hotel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, don’t come up,” she said at the hotel. She had rung and
-the door was unlatched.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Please.”
-<span class='pageno' title='66' id='Page_66'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good night, Brett,” I said. “I’m sorry you feel rotten.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good night, Jake. Good night, darling. I won’t see you again.”
-We kissed standing at the door. She pushed me away. We kissed
-again. “Oh, don’t!” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned quickly and went into the hotel. The chauffeur
-drove me around to my flat. I gave him twenty francs and he
-touched his cap and said: “Good night, sir,” and drove off. I rang
-the bell. The door opened and I went up-stairs and went to bed.</p>
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='67' id='Page_67'></span></p>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:2em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:2em;'>BOOK II</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='69' id='Page_69'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>8</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>I did not see Brett again until she came back from San Sebastian.
-One card came from her from there. It had a picture of the
-Concha, and said: “Darling. Very quiet and healthy. Love to all
-the chaps. <span class='sc'>Brett.</span>”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Nor did I see Robert Cohn again. I heard Frances had left for
-England and I had a note from Cohn saying he was going out
-in the country for a couple of weeks, he did not know where, but
-that he wanted to hold me to the fishing-trip in Spain we had
-talked about last winter. I could reach him always, he wrote,
-through his bankers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett was gone, I was not bothered by Cohn’s troubles, I rather
-enjoyed not having to play tennis, there was plenty of work to do,
-I went often to the races, dined with friends, and put in some
-extra time at the office getting things ahead so I could leave it in
-charge of my secretary when Bill Gorton and I should shove off
-to Spain the end of June. Bill Gorton arrived, put up a couple of
-days at the flat and went off to Vienna. He was very cheerful
-<span class='pageno' title='70' id='Page_70'></span>
-and said the States were wonderful. New York was wonderful.
-There had been a grand theatrical season and a whole crop of
-great young light heavyweights. Any one of them was a good
-prospect to grow up, put on weight and trim Dempsey. Bill was
-very happy. He had made a lot of money on his last book, and
-was going to make a lot more. We had a good time while he was
-in Paris, and then he went off to Vienna. He was coming back in
-three weeks and we would leave for Spain to get in some fishing
-and go to the fiesta at Pamplona. He wrote that Vienna was
-wonderful. Then a card from Budapest: “Jake, Budapest is wonderful.”
-Then I got a wire: “Back on Monday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Monday evening he turned up at the flat. I heard his taxi stop
-and went to the window and called to him; he waved and started
-up-stairs carrying his bags. I met him on the stairs, and took one
-of the bags.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “I hear you had a wonderful trip.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful,” he said. “Budapest is absolutely wonderful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How about Vienna?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not so good, Jake. Not so good. It seemed better than it was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you mean?” I was getting glasses and a siphon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tight, Jake. I was tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s strange. Better have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill rubbed his forehead. “Remarkable thing,” he said. “Don’t
-know how it happened. Suddenly it happened.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Last long?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Four days, Jake. Lasted just four days.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t remember. Wrote you a post-card. Remember that
-perfectly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do anything else?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not so sure. Possible.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on. Tell me about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t remember. Tell you anything I could remember.”
-<span class='pageno' title='71' id='Page_71'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on. Take that drink and remember.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Might remember a little,” Bill said. “Remember something
-about a prize-fight. Enormous Vienna prize-fight. Had a nigger in
-it. Remember the nigger perfectly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful nigger. Looked like Tiger Flowers, only four times
-as big. All of a sudden everybody started to throw things. Not
-me. Nigger’d just knocked local boy down. Nigger put up his
-glove. Wanted to make a speech. Awful noble-looking nigger.
-Started to make a speech. Then local white boy hit him. Then he
-knocked white boy cold. Then everybody commenced to throw
-chairs. Nigger went home with us in our car. Couldn’t get his
-clothes. Wore my coat. Remember the whole thing now. Big
-sporting evening.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What happened?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Loaned the nigger some clothes and went around with him to
-try and get his money. Claimed nigger owed them money on account
-of wrecking hall. Wonder who translated? Was it me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Probably it wasn’t you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re right. Wasn’t me at all. Was another fellow. Think we
-called him the local Harvard man. Remember him now. Studying
-music.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’d you come out?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not so good, Jake. Injustice everywhere. Promoter claimed
-nigger promised let local boy stay. Claimed nigger violated contract.
-Can’t knock out Vienna boy in Vienna. ‘My God, Mister
-Gorton,’ said nigger, ‘I didn’t do nothing in there for forty minutes
-but try and let him stay. That white boy musta ruptured himself
-swinging at me. I never did hit him.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you get any money?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No money, Jake. All we could get was nigger’s clothes. Somebody
-took his watch, too. Splendid nigger. Big mistake to have
-come to Vienna. Not so good, Jake. Not so good.”
-<span class='pageno' title='72' id='Page_72'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What became of the nigger?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Went back to Cologne. Lives there. Married. Got a family.
-Going to write me a letter and send me the money I loaned him.
-Wonderful nigger. Hope I gave him the right address.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You probably did.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, anyway, let’s eat,” said Bill. “Unless you want me to tell
-you some more travel stories.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went down-stairs and out onto the Boulevard St. Michel
-in the warm June evening.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where will we go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to eat on the island?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked down the Boulevard. At the juncture of the Rue
-Denfert-Rochereau with the Boulevard is a statue of two men in
-flowing robes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know who they are.” Bill eyed the monument. “Gentlemen
-who invented pharmacy. Don’t try and fool me on Paris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here’s a taxidermist’s,” Bill said. “Want to buy anything? Nice
-stuffed dog?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” I said. “You’re pie-eyed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pretty nice stuffed dogs,” Bill said. “Certainly brighten up
-your flat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just one stuffed dog. I can take ’em or leave ’em alone. But
-listen, Jake. Just one stuffed dog.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mean everything in the world to you after you bought it.
-Simple exchange of values. You give them money. They give
-you a stuffed dog.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll get one on the way back.”
-<span class='pageno' title='73' id='Page_73'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right. Have it your own way. Road to hell paved with unbought
-stuffed dogs. Not my fault.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’d you feel that way about dogs so sudden?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Always felt that way about dogs. Always been a great lover of
-stuffed animals.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We stopped and had a drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Certainly like to drink,” Bill said. “You ought to try it some
-times, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re about a hundred and forty-four ahead of me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ought not to daunt you. Never be daunted. Secret of my
-success. Never been daunted. Never been daunted in public.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where were you drinking?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Stopped at the Crillon. George made me a couple of Jack
-Roses. George’s a great man. Know the secret of his success?
-Never been daunted.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll be daunted after about three more pernods.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not in public. If I begin to feel daunted I’ll go off by myself.
-I’m like a cat that way.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When did you see Harvey Stone?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“At the Crillon. Harvey was just a little daunted. Hadn’t eaten
-for three days. Doesn’t eat any more. Just goes off like a cat.
-Pretty sad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Splendid. Wish he wouldn’t keep going off like a cat, though.
-Makes me nervous.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’ll we do to-night?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t make any difference. Only let’s not get daunted. Suppose
-they got any hard-boiled eggs here? If they had hard-boiled
-eggs here we wouldn’t have to go all the way down to the
-island to eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nix,” I said. “We’re going to have a regular meal.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just a suggestion,” said Bill. “Want to start now?”
-<span class='pageno' title='74' id='Page_74'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We started on again down the Boulevard. A horse-cab passed
-us. Bill looked at it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See that horse-cab? Going to have that horse-cab stuffed for
-you for Christmas. Going to give all my friends stuffed animals.
-I’m a nature-writer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A taxi passed, some one in it waved, then banged for the driver
-to stop. The taxi backed up to the curb. In it was Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Beautiful lady,” said Bill. “Going to kidnap us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hullo!” Brett said. “Hullo!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is Bill Gorton. Lady Ashley.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett smiled at Bill. “I say I’m just back. Haven’t bathed even.
-Michael comes in to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. Come on and eat with us, and we’ll all go to meet
-him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Must clean myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, rot! Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Must bathe. He doesn’t get in till nine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come and have a drink, then, before you bathe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Might do that. Now you’re not talking rot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got in the taxi. The driver looked around.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Stop at the nearest bistro,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We might as well go to the Closerie,” Brett said. “I can’t drink
-these rotten brandies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Closerie des Lilas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett turned to Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you been in this pestilential city long?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just got in to-day from Budapest.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How was Budapest?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful. Budapest was wonderful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ask him about Vienna.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Vienna,” said Bill, “is a strange city.”
-<span class='pageno' title='75' id='Page_75'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very much like Paris,” Brett smiled at him, wrinkling the corners
-of her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Exactly,” Bill said. “Very much like Paris at this moment.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You <span class='it'>have</span> a good start.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Sitting out on the terraces of the Lilas Brett ordered a whiskey
-and soda, I took one, too, and Bill took another pernod.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How are you, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Great,” I said. “I’ve had a good time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett looked at me. “I was a fool to go away,” she said. “One’s
-an ass to leave Paris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you have a good time?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, all right. Interesting. Not frightfully amusing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See anybody?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, hardly anybody. I never went out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Didn’t you swim?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Didn’t do a thing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sounds like Vienna,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett wrinkled up the corners of her eyes at him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So that’s the way it was in Vienna.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was like everything in Vienna.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett smiled at him again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve a nice friend, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s all right,” I said. “He’s a taxidermist.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was in another country,” Bill said. “And besides all the
-animals were dead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One more,” Brett said, “and I must run. Do send the waiter
-for a taxi.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a line of them. Right out in front.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had the drink and put Brett into her taxi.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mind you’re at the Select around ten. Make him come. Michael
-will be there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll be there,” Bill said. The taxi started and Brett waved.
-<span class='pageno' title='76' id='Page_76'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quite a girl,” Bill said. “She’s damned nice. Who’s Michael?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The man she’s going to marry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, well,” Bill said. “That’s always just the stage I meet anybody.
-What’ll I send them? Think they’d like a couple of stuffed
-race-horses?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We better eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is she really Lady something or other?” Bill asked in the
-taxi on our way down to the Ile Saint Louis.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. In the stud-book and everything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We ate dinner at Madame Lecomte’s restaurant on the far side
-of the island. It was crowded with Americans and we had to
-stand up and wait for a place. Some one had put it in the American
-Women’s Club list as a quaint restaurant on the Paris quais
-as yet untouched by Americans, so we had to wait forty-five
-minutes for a table. Bill had eaten at the restaurant in 1918, and
-right after the armistice, and Madame Lecomte made a great fuss
-over seeing him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t get us a table, though,” Bill said. “Grand woman,
-though.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had a good meal, a roast chicken, new green beans, mashed
-potatoes, a salad, and some apple-pie and cheese.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got the world here all right,” Bill said to Madame
-Lecomte. She raised her hand. “Oh, my God!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll be rich.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hope so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After the coffee and a <span class='it'>fine</span> we got the bill, chalked up the
-same as ever on a slate, that was doubtless one of the “quaint”
-features, paid it, shook hands, and went out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You never come here any more, Monsieur Barnes,” Madame
-Lecomte said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Too many compatriots.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come at lunch-time. It’s not crowded then.”
-<span class='pageno' title='77' id='Page_77'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. I’ll be down soon.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked along under the trees that grew out over the river
-on the Quai d’Orléans side of the island. Across the river were
-the broken walls of old houses that were being torn down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re going to cut a street through.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They would,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked on and circled the island. The river was dark and
-a bateau mouche went by, all bright with lights, going fast and
-quiet up and out of sight under the bridge. Down the river was
-Notre Dame squatting against the night sky. We crossed to the
-left bank of the Seine by the wooden foot-bridge from the Quai
-de Bethune, and stopped on the bridge and looked down the
-river at Notre Dame. Standing on the bridge the island looked
-dark, the houses were high against the sky, and the trees were
-shadows.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s pretty grand,” Bill said. “God, I love to get back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We leaned on the wooden rail of the bridge and looked up the
-river to the lights of the big bridges. Below the water was smooth
-and black. It made no sound against the piles of the bridge. A
-man and a girl passed us. They were walking with their arms
-around each other.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We crossed the bridge and walked up the Rue du Cardinal
-Lemoine. It was steep walking, and we went all the way up to
-the Place Contrescarpe. The arc-light shone through the leaves
-of the trees in the square, and underneath the trees was an S
-bus ready to start. Music came out of the door of the Negre
-Joyeux. Through the window of the Café Aux Amateurs I saw
-the long zinc bar. Outside on the terrace working people were
-drinking. In the open kitchen of the Amateurs a girl was cooking
-potato-chips in oil. There was an iron pot of stew. The girl ladled
-some onto a plate for an old man who stood holding a bottle of
-red wine in one hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to have a drink?”
-<span class='pageno' title='78' id='Page_78'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Bill. “I don’t need it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We turned to the right off the Place Contrescarpe, walking
-along smooth narrow streets with high old houses on both sides.
-Some of the houses jutted out toward the street. Others were cut
-back. We came onto the Rue du Pot de Fer and followed it along
-until it brought us to the rigid north and south of the Rue Saint
-Jacques and then walked south, past Val de Grâce, set back behind
-the courtyard and the iron fence, to the Boulevard du Port
-Royal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you want to do?” I asked. “Go up to the café and
-see Brett and Mike?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked along Port Royal until it became Montparnasse, and
-then on past the Lilas, Lavigne’s, and all the little cafés,
-Damoy’s, crossed the street to the Rotonde, past its lights and
-tables to the Select.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Michael came toward us from the tables. He was tanned and
-healthy-looking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hel-lo, Jake,” he said. “Hel-lo! Hel-lo! How are you, old lad?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You look very fit, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I am. I’m frightfully fit. I’ve done nothing but walk. Walk
-all day long. One drink a day with my mother at tea.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill had gone into the bar. He was standing talking with Brett,
-who was sitting on a high stool, her legs crossed. She had no
-stockings on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s good to see you, Jake,” Michael said. “I’m a little tight you
-know. Amazing, isn’t it? Did you see my nose?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a patch of dried blood on the bridge of his nose.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“An old lady’s bags did that,” Mike said. “I reached up to help
-her with them and they fell on me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett gestured at him from the bar with her cigarette-holder
-and wrinkled the corners of her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“An old lady,” said Mike. “Her bags <span class='it'>fell</span> on me. Let’s go in
-<span class='pageno' title='79' id='Page_79'></span>
-and see Brett. I say, she is a piece. You <span class='it'>are</span> a lovely lady, Brett.
-Where did you get that hat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Chap bought it for me. Don’t you like it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a dreadful hat. Do get a good hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, we’ve so much money now,” Brett said. “I say, haven’t you
-met Bill yet? You <span class='it'>are</span> a lovely host, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned to Mike. “This is Bill Gorton. This drunkard is Mike
-Campbell. Mr. Campbell is an undischarged bankrupt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t I, though? You know I met my ex-partner yesterday
-in London. Chap who did me in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did he say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bought me a drink. I thought I might as well take it. I say,
-Brett, you <span class='it'>are</span> a lovely piece. Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Beautiful. With this nose?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a lovely nose. Go on, point it at me. Isn’t she a lovely
-piece?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Couldn’t we have kept the man in Scotland?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, Brett, let’s turn in early.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be indecent, Michael. Remember there are ladies at
-this bar.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t she a lovely piece? Don’t you think so, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a fight to-night,” Bill said. “Like to go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fight,” said Mike. “Who’s fighting?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ledoux and somebody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s very good, Ledoux,” Mike said. “I’d like to see it, rather”—he
-was making an effort to pull himself together—“but I can’t
-go. I had a date with this thing here. I say, Brett, do get a new
-hat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett pulled the felt hat down far over one eye and smiled out
-from under it. “You two run along to the fight. I’ll have to be
-taking Mr. Campbell home directly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not tight,” Mike said. “Perhaps just a little. I say, Brett,
-you are a lovely piece.”
-<span class='pageno' title='80' id='Page_80'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on to the fight,” Brett said. “Mr. Campbell’s getting difficult.
-What are these outbursts of affection, Michael?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, you are a lovely piece.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We said good night. “I’m sorry I can’t go,” Mike said. Brett
-laughed. I looked back from the door. Mike had one hand on the
-bar and was leaning toward Brett, talking. Brett was looking at
-him quite coolly, but the corners of her eyes were smiling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside on the pavement I said: “Do you want to go to the
-fight?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” said Bill. “If we don’t have to walk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mike was pretty excited about his girl friend,” I said in the
-taxi.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said Bill. “You can’t blame him such a hell of a lot.”
-<span class='pageno' title='81' id='Page_81'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>9</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>The Ledoux-Kid Francis fight was the night of the 20th of June.
-It was a good fight. The morning after the fight I had a letter
-from Robert Cohn, written from Hendaye. He was having a very
-quiet time, he said, bathing, playing some golf and much bridge.
-Hendaye had a splendid beach, but he was anxious to start on
-the fishing-trip. When would I be down? If I would buy him a
-double-tapered line he would pay me when I came down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That same morning I wrote Cohn from the office that Bill and
-I would leave Paris on the 25th unless I wired him otherwise,
-and would meet him at Bayonne, where we could get a bus over
-the mountains to Pamplona. The same evening about seven
-o’clock I stopped in at the Select to see Michael and Brett. They
-were not there, and I went over to the Dingo. They were inside
-sitting at the bar.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, darling.” Brett put out her hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Jake,” Mike said. “I understand I was tight last night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Weren’t you, though,” Brett said. “Disgraceful business.”
-<span class='pageno' title='82' id='Page_82'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look,” said Mike, “when do you go down to Spain? Would
-you mind if we came down with you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would be grand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t mind, really? I’ve been at Pamplona, you know.
-Brett’s mad to go. You’re sure we wouldn’t just be a bloody
-nuisance?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t talk like a fool.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m a little tight, you know. I wouldn’t ask you like this if I
-weren’t. You’re sure you don’t mind?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, shut up, Michael,” Brett said. “How can the man say he’d
-mind now? I’ll ask him later.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you don’t mind, do you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t ask that again unless you want to make me sore. Bill
-and I go down on the morning of the 25th.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By the way, where is Bill?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s out at Chantilly dining with some people.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a good chap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Splendid chap,” said Mike. “He is, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t remember him,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do. Remember him perfectly. Look, Jake, we’ll come down
-the night of the 25th. Brett can’t get up in the morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Indeed not!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If our money comes and you’re sure you don’t mind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It will come, all right. I’ll see to that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me what tackle to send for.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get two or three rods with reels, and lines, and some flies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t fish,” Brett put in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get two rods, then, and Bill won’t have to buy one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right,” said Mike. “I’ll send a wire to the keeper.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t it be splendid,” Brett said. “Spain! We <span class='it'>will</span> have fun.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The 25th. When is that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Saturday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We <span class='it'>will</span> have to get ready.”
-<span class='pageno' title='83' id='Page_83'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say,” said Mike, “I’m going to the barber’s.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I must bathe,” said Brett. “Walk up to the hotel with me, Jake.
-Be a good chap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We <span class='it'>have</span> got the loveliest hotel,” Mike said. “I think it’s a
-brothel!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We left our bags here at the Dingo when we got in, and they
-asked us at this hotel if we wanted a room for the afternoon only.
-Seemed frightfully pleased we were going to stay all night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>I</span> believe it’s a brothel,” Mike said. “And <span class='it'>I</span> should know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, shut it and go and get your hair cut.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mike went out. Brett and I sat on at the bar.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Might.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I needed that,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked up the Rue Delambre.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How <span class='it'>are</span> you, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett looked at me. “I say,” she said, “is Robert Cohn going on
-this trip?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Why?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you think it will be a bit rough on him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why should it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who did you think I went down to San Sebastian with?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Congratulations,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked along.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you say that for?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. What would you like me to say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked along and turned a corner.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He behaved rather well, too. He gets a little dull.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I rather thought it would be good for him.”
-<span class='pageno' title='84' id='Page_84'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You might take up social service.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be nasty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Didn’t you really know?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you think it will be too rough on him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s up to him,” I said. “Tell him you’re coming. He can always
-not come.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll write him and give him a chance to pull out of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I did not see Brett again until the night of the 24th of June.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you hear from Cohn?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather. He’s keen about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought it was rather odd myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Says he can’t wait to see me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does he think you’re coming alone?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I told him we were all coming down together. Michael
-and all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s wonderful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They expected their money the next day. We arranged to meet
-at Pamplona. They would go directly to San Sebastian and take
-the train from there. We would all meet at the Montoya in Pamplona.
-If they did not turn up on Monday at the latest we would
-go on ahead up to Burguete in the mountains, to start fishing.
-There was a bus to Burguete. I wrote out an itinerary so they
-could follow us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill and I took the morning train from the Gare d’Orsay. It
-was a lovely day, not too hot, and the country was beautiful from
-the start. We went back into the diner and had breakfast. Leaving
-the dining-car I asked the conductor for tickets for the first
-service.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing until the fifth.”
-<span class='pageno' title='85' id='Page_85'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s this?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There were never more than two servings of lunch on that
-train, and always plenty of places for both of them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re all reserved,” the dining-car conductor said. “There
-will be a fifth service at three-thirty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is serious,” I said to Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Give him ten francs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here,” I said. “We want to eat in the first service.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The conductor put the ten francs in his pocket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” he said. “I would advise you gentlemen to get
-some sandwiches. All the places for the first four services were
-reserved at the office of the company.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll go a long way, brother,” Bill said to him in English.
-“I suppose if I’d given you five francs you would have advised us
-to jump off the train.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Comment?</span>”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go to hell!” said Bill. “Get the sandwiches made and a bottle
-of wine. You tell him, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And send it up to the next car.” I described where we were.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In our compartment were a man and his wife and their young
-son.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose you’re Americans, aren’t you?” the man asked.
-“Having a good trip?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful,” said Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s what you want to do. Travel while you’re young.
-Mother and I always wanted to get over, but we had to wait a
-while.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You could have come over ten years ago, if you’d wanted to,”
-the wife said. “What you always said was: ‘See America first!’
-I will say we’ve seen a good deal, take it one way and another.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say, there’s plenty of Americans on this train,” the husband
-said. “They’ve got seven cars of them from Dayton, Ohio.
-<span class='pageno' title='86' id='Page_86'></span>
-They’ve been on a pilgrimage to Rome, and now they’re going
-down to Biarritz and Lourdes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So, that’s what they are. Pilgrims. Goddam Puritans,” Bill
-said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What part of the States you boys from?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Kansas City,” I said. “He’s from Chicago.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You both going to Biarritz?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. We’re going fishing in Spain.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I never cared for it, myself. There’s plenty that do out
-where I come from, though. We got some of the best fishing in
-the State of Montana. I’ve been out with the boys, but I never
-cared for it any.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mighty little fishing you did on them trips,” his wife said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He winked at us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know how the ladies are. If there’s a jug goes along, or a
-case of beer, they think it’s hell and damnation.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s the way men are,” his wife said to us. She smoothed
-her comfortable lap. “I voted against prohibition to please him,
-and because I like a little beer in the house, and then he talks
-that way. It’s a wonder they ever find any one to marry them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say,” said Bill, “do you know that gang of Pilgrim Fathers
-have cornered the dining-car until half past three this afternoon?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you mean? They can’t do a thing like that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You try and get seats.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, mother, it looks as though we better go back and get
-another breakfast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She stood up and straightened her dress.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will you boys keep an eye on our things? Come on, Hubert.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They all three went up to the wagon restaurant. A little while
-after they were gone a steward went through announcing the
-first service, and pilgrims, with their priests, commenced filing
-down the corridor. Our friend and his family did not come back.
-<span class='pageno' title='87' id='Page_87'></span>
-A waiter passed in the corridor with our sandwiches and the
-bottle of Chablis, and we called him in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re going to work to-day,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He nodded his head. “They start now, at ten-thirty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When do we eat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Huh! When do I eat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He left two glasses for the bottle, and we paid him for the
-sandwiches and tipped him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll get the plates,” he said, “or bring them with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We ate the sandwiches and drank the Chablis and watched the
-country out of the window. The grain was just beginning to ripen
-and the fields were full of poppies. The pastureland was green,
-and there were fine trees, and sometimes big rivers and chateaux
-off in the trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At Tours we got off and bought another bottle of wine, and
-when we got back in the compartment the gentleman from Montana
-and his wife and his son, Hubert, were sitting comfortably.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is there good swimming in Biarritz?” asked Hubert.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That boy’s just crazy till he can get in the water,” his mother
-said. “It’s pretty hard on youngsters travelling.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s good swimming,” I said. “But it’s dangerous when it’s
-rough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you get a meal?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We sure did. We set right there when they started to come in,
-and they must have just thought we were in the party. One of the
-waiters said something to us in French, and then they just sent
-three of them back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They thought we were snappers, all right,” the man said. “It
-certainly shows you the power of the Catholic Church. It’s a pity
-you boys ain’t Catholics. You could get a meal, then, all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am,” I said. “That’s what makes me so sore.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Finally at a quarter past four we had lunch. Bill had been
-<span class='pageno' title='88' id='Page_88'></span>
-rather difficult at the last. He buttonholed a priest who was coming
-back with one of the returning streams of pilgrims.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When do us Protestants get a chance to eat, father?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know anything about it. Haven’t you got tickets?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s enough to make a man join the Klan,” Bill said. The priest
-looked back at him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Inside the dining-car the waiters served the fifth successive
-table d’hôte meal. The waiter who served us was soaked through.
-His white jacket was purple under the arms.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He must drink a lot of wine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Or wear purple undershirts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s ask him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. He’s too tired.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The train stopped for half an hour at Bordeaux and we went
-out through the station for a little walk. There was not time to get
-in to the town. Afterward we passed through the Landes and
-watched the sun set. There were wide fire-gaps cut through the
-pines, and you could look up them like avenues and see wooded
-hills way off. About seven-thirty we had dinner and watched the
-country through the open window in the diner. It was all sandy
-pine country full of heather. There were little clearings with
-houses in them, and once in a while we passed a sawmill. It got
-dark and we could feel the country hot and sandy and dark outside
-of the window, and about nine o’clock we got into Bayonne.
-The man and his wife and Hubert all shook hands with us. They
-were going on to LaNegresse to change for Biarritz.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I hope you have lots of luck,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be careful about those bull-fights.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Maybe we’ll see you at Biarritz,” Hubert said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got off with our bags and rod-cases and passed through the
-dark station and out to the lights and the line of cabs and hotel
-buses. There, standing with the hotel runners, was Robert Cohn.
-He did not see us at first. Then he started forward.
-<span class='pageno' title='89' id='Page_89'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Jake. Have a good trip?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine,” I said. “This is Bill Gorton.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How are you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” said Robert. “I’ve got a cab.” He was a little near-sighted.
-I had never noticed it before. He was looking at Bill,
-trying to make him out. He was shy, too.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll go up to my hotel. It’s all right. It’s quite nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got into the cab, and the cabman put the bags up on the
-seat beside him and climbed up and cracked his whip, and we
-drove over the dark bridge and into the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m awfully glad to meet you,” Robert said to Bill. “I’ve heard
-so much about you from Jake and I’ve read your books. Did you
-get my line, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The cab stopped in front of the hotel and we all got out and
-went in. It was a nice hotel, and the people at the desk were very
-cheerful, and we each had a good small room.
-<span class='pageno' title='90' id='Page_90'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>10</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>In the morning it was bright, and they were sprinkling the streets
-of the town, and we all had breakfast in a café. Bayonne is a nice
-town. It is like a very clean Spanish town and it is on a big river.
-Already, so early in the morning, it was very hot on the bridge
-across the river. We walked out on the bridge and then took a
-walk through the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was not at all sure Mike’s rods would come from Scotland in
-time, so we hunted a tackle store and finally bought a rod for Bill
-up-stairs over a drygoods store. The man who sold the tackle was
-out, and we had to wait for him to come back. Finally he came in,
-and we bought a pretty good rod cheap, and two landing-nets.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went out into the street again and took a look at the
-cathedral. Cohn made some remark about it being a very good
-example of something or other, I forget what. It seemed like a
-nice cathedral, nice and dim, like Spanish churches. Then we
-went up past the old fort and out to the local Syndicat d’Initiative
-office, where the bus was supposed to start from. There they told
-<span class='pageno' title='91' id='Page_91'></span>
-us the bus service did not start until the 1st of July. We found out
-at the tourist office what we ought to pay for a motor-car to
-Pamplona and hired one at a big garage just around the corner
-from the Municipal Theatre for four hundred francs. The car was
-to pick us up at the hotel in forty minutes, and we stopped at the
-café on the square where we had eaten breakfast, and had a beer.
-It was hot, but the town had a cool, fresh, early-morning smell and
-it was pleasant sitting in the café. A breeze started to blow, and
-you could feel that the air came from the sea. There were pigeons
-out in the square, and the houses were a yellow, sun-baked color,
-and I did not want to leave the café. But we had to go to the
-hotel to get our bags packed and pay the bill. We paid for the
-beers, we matched and I think Cohn paid, and went up to the
-hotel. It was only sixteen francs apiece for Bill and me, with ten
-per cent added for the service, and we had the bags sent down
-and waited for Robert Cohn. While we were waiting I saw a
-cockroach on the parquet floor that must have been at least three
-inches long. I pointed him out to Bill and then put my shoe on
-him. We agreed he must have just come in from the garden. It
-was really an awfully clean hotel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn came down, finally, and we all went out to the car. It
-was a big, closed car, with a driver in a white duster with blue
-collar and cuffs, and we had him put the back of the car down.
-He piled in the bags and we started off up the street and out of
-the town. We passed some lovely gardens and had a good look
-back at the town, and then we were out in the country, green and
-rolling, and the road climbing all the time. We passed lots of
-Basques with oxen, or cattle, hauling carts along the road, and
-nice farmhouses, low roofs, and all white-plastered. In the Basque
-country the land all looks very rich and green and the houses and
-villages look well-off and clean. Every village had a pelota court
-and on some of them kids were playing in the hot sun. There
-were signs on the walls of the churches saying it was forbidden
-<span class='pageno' title='92' id='Page_92'></span>
-to play pelota against them, and the houses in the villages had
-red tiled roofs, and then the road turned off and commenced to
-climb and we were going way up close along a hillside, with a
-valley below and hills stretched off back toward the sea. You
-couldn’t see the sea. It was too far away. You could see only hills
-and more hills, and you knew where the sea was.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We crossed the Spanish frontier. There was a little stream and a
-bridge, and Spanish carabineers, with patent-leather Bonaparte
-hats, and short guns on their backs, on one side, and on the other
-fat Frenchmen in kepis and mustaches. They only opened one
-bag and took the passports in and looked at them. There was a
-general store and inn on each side of the line. The chauffeur had
-to go in and fill out some papers about the car and we got out
-and went over to the stream to see if there were any trout. Bill
-tried to talk some Spanish to one of the carabineers, but it did not
-go very well. Robert Cohn asked, pointing with his finger, if there
-were any trout in the stream, and the carabineer said yes, but not
-many.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I asked him if he ever fished, and he said no, that he didn’t care
-for it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Just then an old man with long, sunburned hair and beard,
-and clothes that looked as though they were made of gunny-sacking,
-came striding up to the bridge. He was carrying a long
-staff, and he had a kid slung on his back, tied by the four legs,
-the head hanging down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The carabineer waved him back with his sword. The man
-turned without saying anything, and started back up the white
-road into Spain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter with the old one?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He hasn’t got any passport.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I offered the guard a cigarette. He took it and thanked me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What will he do?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The guard spat in the dust.
-<span class='pageno' title='93' id='Page_93'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, he’ll just wade across the stream.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you have much smuggling?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” he said, “they go through.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The chauffeur came out, folding up the papers and putting
-them in the inside pocket of his coat. We all got in the car and it
-started up the white dusty road into Spain. For a while the
-country was much as it had been; then, climbing all the time, we
-crossed the top of a Col, the road winding back and forth on itself,
-and then it was really Spain. There were long brown mountains
-and a few pines and far-off forests of beech-trees on some of the
-mountainsides. The road went along the summit of the Col and
-then dropped down, and the driver had to honk, and slow up, and
-turn out to avoid running into two donkeys that were sleeping in
-the road. We came down out of the mountains and through an oak
-forest, and there were white cattle grazing in the forest. Down
-below there were grassy plains and clear streams, and then we
-crossed a stream and went through a gloomy little village, and
-started to climb again. We climbed up and up and crossed
-another high Col and turned along it, and the road ran down to
-the right, and we saw a whole new range of mountains off to the
-south, all brown and baked-looking and furrowed in strange
-shapes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After a while we came out of the mountains, and there were
-trees along both sides of the road, and a stream and ripe fields of
-grain, and the road went on, very white and straight ahead, and
-then lifted to a little rise, and off on the left was a hill with an old
-castle, with buildings close around it and a field of grain going
-right up to the walls and shifting in the wind. I was up in front
-with the driver and I turned around. Robert Cohn was asleep,
-but Bill looked and nodded his head. Then we crossed a wide
-plain, and there was a big river off on the right shining in the sun
-from between the line of trees, and away off you could see the
-plateau of Pamplona rising out of the plain, and the walls of the
-<span class='pageno' title='94' id='Page_94'></span>
-city, and the great brown cathedral, and the broken skyline of the
-other churches. In back of the plateau were the mountains, and
-every way you looked there were other mountains, and ahead the
-road stretched out white across the plain going toward Pamplona.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We came into the town on the other side of the plateau, the
-road slanting up steeply and dustily with shade-trees on both
-sides, and then levelling out through the new part of town they
-are building up outside the old walls. We passed the bull-ring,
-high and white and concrete-looking in the sun, and then came
-into the big square by a side street and stopped in front of the
-Hotel Montoya.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The driver helped us down with the bags. There was a crowd
-of kids watching the car, and the square was hot, and the trees
-were green, and the flags hung on their staffs, and it was good to
-get out of the sun and under the shade of the arcade that runs all
-the way around the square. Montoya was glad to see us, and
-shook hands and gave us good rooms looking out on the square,
-and then we washed and cleaned up and went down-stairs in the
-dining-room for lunch. The driver stayed for lunch, too, and
-afterward we paid him and he started back to Bayonne.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There are two dining-rooms in the Montoya. One is up-stairs
-on the second floor and looks out on the square. The other is down
-one floor below the level of the square and has a door that opens
-on the back street that the bulls pass along when they run through
-the streets early in the morning on their way to the ring. It is
-always cool in the down-stairs dining-room and we had a very
-good lunch. The first meal in Spain was always a shock with the
-hors d’œuvres, an egg course, two meat courses, vegetables, salad,
-and dessert and fruit. You have to drink plenty of wine to get it
-all down. Robert Cohn tried to say he did not want any of the
-second meat course, but we would not interpret for him, and so
-the waitress brought him something else as a replacement, a plate
-of cold meats, I think. Cohn had been rather nervous ever since
-<span class='pageno' title='95' id='Page_95'></span>
-we had met at Bayonne. He did not know whether we knew Brett
-had been with him at San Sebastian, and it made him rather
-awkward.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “Brett and Mike ought to get in to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not sure they’ll come,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?” Bill said. “Of course they’ll come.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re always late,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I rather think they’re not coming,” Robert Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He said it with an air of superior knowledge that irritated both
-of us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll bet you fifty pesetas they’re here to-night,” Bill said. He
-always bets when he is angered, and so he usually bets foolishly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll take it,” Cohn said. “Good. You remember it, Jake. Fifty
-pesetas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll remember it myself,” Bill said. I saw he was angry and
-wanted to smooth him down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a sure thing they’ll come,” I said. “But maybe not to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to call it off?” Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Why should I? Make it a hundred if you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right. I’ll take that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s enough,” I said. “Or you’ll have to make a book and
-give me some of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m satisfied,” Cohn said. He smiled. “You’ll probably win it
-back at bridge, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You haven’t got it yet,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went out to walk around under the arcade to the Café
-Iruña for coffee. Cohn said he was going over and get a shave.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say,” Bill said to me, “have I got any chance on that bet?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got a rotten chance. They’ve never been on time anywhere.
-If their money doesn’t come it’s a cinch they won’t get in
-to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was sorry as soon as I opened my mouth. But I had to call
-him. He’s all right, I guess, but where does he get this inside
-<span class='pageno' title='96' id='Page_96'></span>
-stuff? Mike and Brett fixed it up with us about coming down
-here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I saw Cohn coming over across the square.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here he comes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, let him not get superior and Jewish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The barber shop’s closed,” Cohn said. “It’s not open till four.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had coffee at the Iruña, sitting in comfortable wicker chairs
-looking out from the cool of the arcade at the big square. After a
-while Bill went to write some letters and Cohn went over to the
-barber-shop. It was still closed, so he decided to go up to the hotel
-and get a bath, and I sat out in front of the café and then went
-for a walk in the town. It was very hot, but I kept on the shady
-side of the streets and went through the market and had a good
-time seeing the town again. I went to the Ayuntamiento and
-found the old gentleman who subscribes for the bull-fight tickets
-for me every year, and he had gotten the money I sent him from
-Paris and renewed my subscriptions, so that was all set. He was
-the archivist, and all the archives of the town were in his office.
-That has nothing to do with the story. Anyway, his office had a
-green baize door and a big wooden door, and when I went out I
-left him sitting among the archives that covered all the walls, and
-I shut both the doors, and as I went out of the building into the
-street the porter stopped me to brush off my coat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You must have been in a motor-car,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The back of the collar and the upper part of the shoulders
-were gray with dust.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“From Bayonne.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, well,” he said. “I knew you were in a motor-car from the
-way the dust was.” So I gave him two copper coins.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the end of the street I saw the cathedral and walked up toward
-it. The first time I ever saw it I thought the façade was ugly
-but I liked it now. I went inside. It was dim and dark and the
-pillars went high up, and there were people praying, and it smelt
-<span class='pageno' title='97' id='Page_97'></span>
-of incense, and there were some wonderful big windows. I knelt
-and started to pray and prayed for everybody I thought of, Brett
-and Mike and Bill and Robert Cohn and myself, and all the bull-fighters,
-separately for the ones I liked, and lumping all the rest,
-then I prayed for myself again, and while I was praying for myself
-I found I was getting sleepy, so I prayed that the bull-fights
-would be good, and that it would be a fine fiesta, and that we
-would get some fishing. I wondered if there was anything else
-I might pray for, and I thought I would like to have some money,
-so I prayed that I would make a lot of money, and then I started
-to think how I would make it, and thinking of making money reminded
-me of the count, and I started wondering about where he
-was, and regretting I hadn’t seen him since that night in Montmartre,
-and about something funny Brett told me about him, and
-as all the time I was kneeling with my forehead on the wood in
-front of me, and was thinking of myself as praying, I was a little
-ashamed, and regretted that I was such a rotten Catholic, but
-realized there was nothing I could do about it, at least for a
-while, and maybe never, but that anyway it was a grand religion,
-and I only wished I felt religious and maybe I would the next
-time; and then I was out in the hot sun on the steps of the cathedral,
-and the forefingers and the thumb of my right hand were
-still damp, and I felt them dry in the sun. The sunlight was hot
-and hard, and I crossed over beside some buildings, and walked
-back along side-streets to the hotel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At dinner that night we found that Robert Cohn had taken a
-bath, had had a shave and a haircut and a shampoo, and something
-put on his hair afterward to make it stay down. He was
-nervous, and I did not try to help him any. The train was due in
-at nine o’clock from San Sebastian, and, if Brett and Mike were
-coming, they would be on it. At twenty minutes to nine we were
-not half through dinner. Robert Cohn got up from the table and
-said he would go to the station. I said I would go with him, just
-<span class='pageno' title='98' id='Page_98'></span>
-to devil him. Bill said he would be damned if he would leave his
-dinner. I said we would be right back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked to the station. I was enjoying Cohn’s nervousness.
-I hoped Brett would be on the train. At the station the train was
-late, and we sat on a baggage-truck and waited outside in the
-dark. I have never seen a man in civil life as nervous as Robert
-Cohn—nor as eager. I was enjoying it. It was lousy to enjoy it,
-but I felt lousy. Cohn had a wonderful quality of bringing out
-the worst in anybody.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After a while we heard the train-whistle way off below on the
-other side of the plateau, and then we saw the headlight coming
-up the hill. We went inside the station and stood with a crowd of
-people just back of the gates, and the train came in and stopped,
-and everybody started coming out through the gates.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were not in the crowd. We waited till everybody had
-gone through and out of the station and gotten into buses, or
-taken cabs, or were walking with their friends or relatives through
-the dark into the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I knew they wouldn’t come,” Robert said. We were going back
-to the hotel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought they might,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill was eating fruit when we came in and finishing a bottle of
-wine.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Didn’t come, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you mind if I give you that hundred pesetas in the morning,
-Cohn?” Bill asked. “I haven’t changed any money here yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, forget about it,” Robert Cohn said. “Let’s bet on something
-else. Can you bet on bull-fights?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You could,” Bill said, “but you don’t need to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would be like betting on the war,” I said. “You don’t need
-any economic interest.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m very curious to see them,” Robert said.
-<span class='pageno' title='99' id='Page_99'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya came up to our table. He had a telegram in his hand.
-“It’s for you.” He handed it to me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It read: “Stopped night San Sebastian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s from them,” I said. I put it in my pocket. Ordinarily I
-should have handed it over.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’ve stopped over in San Sebastian,” I said. “Send their
-regards to you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Why I felt that impulse to devil him I do not know. Of course
-I do know. I was blind, unforgivingly jealous of what had happened
-to him. The fact that I took it as a matter of course did
-not alter that any. I certainly did hate him. I do not think I ever
-really hated him until he had that little spell of superiority at
-lunch—that and when he went through all that barbering. So I
-put the telegram in my pocket. The telegram came to me, anyway.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said. “We ought to pull out on the noon bus for
-Burguete. They can follow us if they get in to-morrow night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There were only two trains up from San Sebastian, an early
-morning train and the one we had just met.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That sounds like a good idea,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The sooner we get on the stream the better.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all one to me when we start,” Bill said. “The sooner the
-better.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We sat in the Iruña for a while and had coffee and then took a
-little walk out to the bull-ring and across the field and under the
-trees at the edge of the cliff and looked down at the river in the
-dark, and I turned in early. Bill and Cohn stayed out in the café
-quite late, I believe, because I was asleep when they came in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the morning I bought three tickets for the bus to Burguete.
-It was scheduled to leave at two o’clock. There was nothing earlier.
-I was sitting over at the Iruña reading the papers when I
-saw Robert Cohn coming across the square. He came up to the
-table and sat down in one of the wicker chairs.
-<span class='pageno' title='100' id='Page_100'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is a comfortable café,” he said. “Did you have a good
-night, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I slept like a log.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t sleep very well. Bill and I were out late, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where were you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here. And after it shut we went over to that other café. The
-old man there speaks German and English.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Café Suizo.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s it. He seems like a nice old fellow. I think it’s a better
-café than this one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s not so good in the daytime,” I said. “Too hot. By the way,
-I got the bus tickets.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not going up to-day. You and Bill go on ahead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve got your ticket.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Give it to me. I’ll get the money back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s five pesetas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Robert Cohn took out a silver five-peseta piece and gave it
-to me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I ought to stay,” he said. “You see I’m afraid there’s some
-sort of misunderstanding.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why,” I said. “They may not come here for three or four days
-now if they start on parties at San Sebastian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s just it,” said Robert. “I’m afraid they expected to meet
-me at San Sebastian, and that’s why they stopped over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What makes you think that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I wrote suggesting it to Brett.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why in hell didn’t you stay there and meet them then?” I
-started to say, but I stopped. I thought that idea would come to
-him by itself, but I do not believe it ever did.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was being confidential now and it was giving him pleasure
-to be able to talk with the understanding that I knew there was
-something between him and Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, Bill and I will go up right after lunch,” I said.
-<span class='pageno' title='101' id='Page_101'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish I could go. We’ve been looking forward to this fishing
-all winter.” He was being sentimental about it. “But I ought to
-stay. I really ought. As soon as they come I’ll bring them right up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s find Bill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to go over to the barber-shop.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See you at lunch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I found Bill up in his room. He was shaving.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, he told me all about it last night,” Bill said. “He’s a
-great little confider. He said he had a date with Brett at San
-Sebastian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The lying bastard!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no,” said Bill. “Don’t get sore. Don’t get sore at this stage
-of the trip. How did you ever happen to know this fellow, anyway?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t rub it in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill looked around, half-shaved, and then went on talking into
-the mirror while he lathered his face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Didn’t you send him with a letter to me in New York last
-winter? Thank God, I’m a travelling man. Haven’t you got some
-more Jewish friends you could bring along?” He rubbed his chin
-with his thumb, looked at it, and then started scraping again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got some fine ones yourself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. I’ve got some darbs. But not alongside of this Robert
-Cohn. The funny thing is he’s nice, too. I like him. But he’s just
-so awful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He can be damn nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know it. That’s the terrible part.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Go on and laugh,” said Bill. “You weren’t out with him
-last night until two o’clock.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was he very bad?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Awful. What’s all this about him and Brett, anyway? Did she
-ever have anything to do with him?”
-<span class='pageno' title='102' id='Page_102'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He raised his chin up and pulled it from side to side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. She went down to San Sebastian with him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a damn-fool thing to do. Why did she do that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She wanted to get out of town and she can’t go anywhere
-alone. She said she thought it would be good for him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What bloody-fool things people do. Why didn’t she go off
-with some of her own people? Or you?”—he slurred that over—“or
-me? Why not me?” He looked at his face carefully in the glass,
-put a big dab of lather on each cheek-bone. “It’s an honest face.
-It’s a face any woman would be safe with.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’d never seen it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She should have. All women should see it. It’s a face that
-ought to be thrown on every screen in the country. Every woman
-ought to be given a copy of this face as she leaves the altar.
-Mothers should tell their daughters about this face. My son”—he
-pointed the razor at me—“go west with this face and grow up
-with the country.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He ducked down to the bowl, rinsed his face with cold water,
-put on some alcohol, and then looked at himself carefully in the
-glass, pulling down his long upper lip.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God!” he said, “isn’t it an awful face?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked in the glass.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And as for this Robert Cohn,” Bill said, “he makes me sick,
-and he can go to hell, and I’m damn glad he’s staying here so we
-won’t have him fishing with us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re damn right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re going trout-fishing. We’re going trout-fishing in the Irati
-River, and we’re going to get tight now at lunch on the wine of
-the country, and then take a swell bus ride.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on. Let’s go over to the Iruña and start,” I said.
-<span class='pageno' title='103' id='Page_103'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>11</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>It was baking hot in the square when we came out after lunch
-with our bags and the rod-case to go to Burguete. People were on
-top of the bus, and others were climbing up a ladder. Bill went up
-and Robert sat beside Bill to save a place for me, and I went back
-in the hotel to get a couple of bottles of wine to take with us.
-When I came out the bus was crowded. Men and women were
-sitting on all the baggage and boxes on top, and the women all
-had their fans going in the sun. It certainly was hot. Robert
-climbed down and I fitted into the place he had saved on the one
-wooden seat that ran across the top.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Robert Cohn stood in the shade of the arcade waiting for us
-start. A Basque with a big leather wine-bag in his lap lay across
-the top of the bus in front of our seat, leaning back against our
-legs. He offered the wine-skin to Bill and to me, and when I tipped
-it up to drink he imitated the sound of a klaxon motor-horn so
-well and so suddenly that I spilled some of the wine, and everybody
-laughed. He apologized and made me take another drink.
-<span class='pageno' title='104' id='Page_104'></span>
-He made the klaxon again a little later, and it fooled me the
-second time. He was very good at it. The Basques liked it. The
-man next to Bill was talking to him in Spanish and Bill was not
-getting it, so he offered the man one of the bottles of wine. The
-man waved it away. He said it was too hot and he had drunk
-too much at lunch. When Bill offered the bottle the second time
-he took a long drink, and then the bottle went all over that part
-of the bus. Every one took a drink very politely, and then they
-made us cork it up and put it away. They all wanted us to drink
-from their leather wine-bottles. They were peasants going up into
-the hills.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Finally, after a couple more false klaxons, the bus started, and
-Robert Cohn waved good-by to us, and all the Basques waved
-good-by to him. As soon as we started out on the road outside of
-town it was cool. It felt nice riding high up and close under the
-trees. The bus went quite fast and made a good breeze, and as
-we went out along the road with the dust powdering the trees
-and down the hill, we had a fine view, back through the trees, of
-the town rising up from the bluff above the river. The Basque
-lying against my knees pointed out the view with the neck of the
-wine-bottle, and winked at us. He nodded his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pretty nice, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“These Basques are swell people,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Basque lying against my legs was tanned the color of
-saddle-leather. He wore a black smock like all the rest. There were
-wrinkles in his tanned neck. He turned around and offered his
-wine-bag to Bill. Bill handed him one of our bottles. The Basque
-wagged a forefinger at him and handed the bottle back, slapping
-in the cork with the palm of his hand. He shoved the wine-bag up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Arriba! Arriba!” he said. “Lift it up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill raised the wine-skin and let the stream of wine spurt out
-and into his mouth, his head tipped back. When he stopped
-<span class='pageno' title='105' id='Page_105'></span>
-drinking and tipped the leather bottle down a few drops ran
-down his chin.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No! No!” several Basques said. “Not like that.” One snatched
-the bottle away from the owner, who was himself about to give a
-demonstration. He was a young fellow and he held the wine-bottle
-at full arms’ length and raised it high up, squeezing the
-leather bag with his hand so the stream of wine hissed into his
-mouth. He held the bag out there, the wine making a flat, hard
-trajectory into his mouth, and he kept on swallowing smoothly
-and regularly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hey!” the owner of the bottle shouted. “Whose wine is that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The drinker waggled his little finger at him and smiled at us
-with his eyes. Then he bit the stream off sharp, made a quick lift
-with the wine-bag and lowered it down to the owner. He winked
-at us. The owner shook the wine-skin sadly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We passed through a town and stopped in front of the posada,
-and the driver took on several packages. Then we started on
-again, and outside the town the road commenced to mount. We
-were going through farming country with rocky hills that sloped
-down into the fields. The grain-fields went up the hillsides. Now
-as we went higher there was a wind blowing the grain. The road
-was white and dusty, and the dust rose under the wheels and
-hung in the air behind us. The road climbed up into the hills and
-left the rich grain-fields below. Now there were only patches of
-grain on the bare hillsides and on each side of the water-courses.
-We turned sharply out to the side of the road to give room to pass
-to a long string of six mules, following one after the other, hauling
-a high-hooded wagon loaded with freight. The wagon and the
-mules were covered with dust. Close behind was another string
-of mules and another wagon. This was loaded with lumber, and
-the arriero driving the mules leaned back and put on the thick
-wooden brakes as we passed. Up here the country was quite
-<span class='pageno' title='106' id='Page_106'></span>
-barren and the hills were rocky and hard-baked clay furrowed by
-the rain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We came around a curve into a town, and on both sides opened
-out a sudden green valley. A stream went through the centre
-of the town and fields of grapes touched the houses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bus stopped in front of a posada and many of the passengers
-got down, and a lot of the baggage was unstrapped from
-the roof from under the big tarpaulins and lifted down. Bill and I
-got down and went into the posada. There was a low, dark room
-with saddles and harness, and hay-forks made of white wood, and
-clusters of canvas rope-soled shoes and hams and slabs of bacon
-and white garlics and long sausages hanging from the roof. It was
-cool and dusky, and we stood in front of a long wooden counter
-with two women behind it serving drinks. Behind them were
-shelves stacked with supplies and goods.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We each had an aguardiente and paid forty centimes for the
-two drinks. I gave the woman fifty centimes to make a tip, and
-she gave me back the copper piece, thinking I had misunderstood
-the price.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Two of our Basques came in and insisted on buying a drink.
-So they bought a drink and then we bought a drink, and then
-they slapped us on the back and bought another drink. Then we
-bought, and then we all went out into the sunlight and the heat,
-and climbed back on top of the bus. There was plenty of room
-now for every one to sit on the seat, and the Basque who had
-been lying on the tin roof now sat between us. The woman who
-had been serving drinks came out wiping her hands on her apron
-and talked to somebody inside the bus. Then the driver came out
-swinging two flat leather mail-pouches and climbed up, and everybody
-waving we started off.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The road left the green valley at once, and we were up in the
-hills again. Bill and the wine-bottle Basque were having a
-<span class='pageno' title='107' id='Page_107'></span>
-conversation. A man leaned over from the other side of the seat and
-asked in English: “You’re Americans?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I been there,” he said. “Forty years ago.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was an old man, as brown as the others, with the stubble of
-a white beard.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How was it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What you say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How was America?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I was in California. It was fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why did you leave?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What you say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why did you come back here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! I come back to get married. I was going to go back but
-my wife she don’t like to travel. Where you from?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Kansas City.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I been there,” he said. “I been in Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas
-City, Denver, Los Angeles, Salt Lake City.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He named them carefully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How long were you over?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fifteen years. Then I come back and got married.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have a drink?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” he said. “You can’t get this in America, eh?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s plenty if you can pay for it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What you come over here for?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re going to the fiesta at Pamplona.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You like the bull-fights?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. Don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he said. “I guess I like them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Then after a little:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where you go now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Up to Burguete to fish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” he said, “I hope you catch something.”
-<span class='pageno' title='108' id='Page_108'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook hands and turned around to the back seat again. The
-other Basques had been impressed. He sat back comfortably and
-smiled at me when I turned around to look at the country. But
-the effort of talking American seemed to have tired him. He did
-not say anything after that.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bus climbed steadily up the road. The country was barren
-and rocks stuck up through the clay. There was no grass beside
-the road. Looking back we could see the country spread out below.
-Far back the fields were squares of green and brown on the
-hillsides. Making the horizon were the brown mountains. They
-were strangely shaped. As we climbed higher the horizon kept
-changing. As the bus ground slowly up the road we could see
-other mountains coming up in the south. Then the road came
-over the crest, flattened out, and went into a forest. It was a forest
-of cork oaks, and the sun came through the trees in patches, and
-there were cattle grazing back in the trees. We went through the
-forest and the road came out and turned along a rise of land, and
-out ahead of us was a rolling green plain, with dark mountains
-beyond it. These were not like the brown, heat-baked mountains
-we had left behind. These were wooded and there were clouds
-coming down from them. The green plain stretched off. It was
-cut by fences and the white of the road showed through the
-trunks of a double line of trees that crossed the plain toward the
-north. As we came to the edge of the rise we saw the red roofs
-and white houses of Burguete ahead strung out on the plain, and
-away off on the shoulder of the first dark mountain was the gray
-metal-sheathed roof of the monastery of Roncesvalles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s Roncevaux,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Way off there where the mountain starts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s cold up here,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s high,” I said. “It must be twelve hundred metres.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s awful cold,” Bill said.
-<span class='pageno' title='109' id='Page_109'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bus levelled down onto the straight line of road that ran
-to Burguete. We passed a crossroads and crossed a bridge over a
-stream. The houses of Burguete were along both sides of the
-road. There were no side-streets. We passed the church and the
-school-yard, and the bus stopped. We got down and the driver
-handed down our bags and the rod-case. A carabineer in his
-cocked hat and yellow leather cross-straps came up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s in there?” he pointed to the rod-case.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I opened it and showed him. He asked to see our fishing permits
-and I got them out. He looked at the date and then waved us on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that all right?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Of course.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went up the street, past the whitewashed stone houses,
-families sitting in their doorways watching us, to the inn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The fat woman who ran the inn came out from the kitchen
-and shook hands with us. She took off her spectacles, wiped them,
-and put them on again. It was cold in the inn and the wind was
-starting to blow outside. The woman sent a girl up-stairs with us
-to show the room. There were two beds, a washstand, a clothes-chest,
-and a big, framed steel-engraving of Nuestra Señora de
-Roncesvalles. The wind was blowing against the shutters. The
-room was on the north side of the inn. We washed, put on sweaters,
-and came down-stairs into the dining-room. It had a stone
-floor, low ceiling, and was oak-panelled. The shutters were up
-and it was so cold you could see your breath.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God!” said Bill. “It can’t be this cold to-morrow. I’m not
-going to wade a stream in this weather.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was an upright piano in the far corner of the room beyond
-the wooden tables and Bill went over and started to play.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I got to keep warm,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went out to find the woman and ask her how much the room
-and board was. She put her hands under her apron and looked
-away from me.
-<span class='pageno' title='110' id='Page_110'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Twelve pesetas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, we only paid that in Pamplona.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She did not say anything, just took off her glasses and wiped
-them on her apron.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s too much,” I said. “We didn’t pay more than that at a
-big hotel.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve put in a bathroom.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Haven’t you got anything cheaper?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not in the summer. Now is the big season.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were the only people in the inn. Well, I thought, it’s only a
-few days.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is the wine included?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said. “It’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went back to Bill. He blew his breath at me to show how cold
-it was, and went on playing. I sat at one of the tables and looked
-at the pictures on the wall. There was one panel of rabbits, dead,
-one of pheasants, also dead, and one panel of dead ducks. The
-panels were all dark and smoky-looking. There was a cupboard
-full of liqueur bottles. I looked at them all. Bill was still playing.
-“How about a hot rum punch?” he said. “This isn’t going to keep
-me warm permanently.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went out and told the woman what a rum punch was and
-how to make it. In a few minutes a girl brought a stone pitcher,
-steaming, into the room. Bill came over from the piano and we
-drank the hot punch and listened to the wind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There isn’t too much rum in that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went over to the cupboard and brought the rum bottle and
-poured a half-tumblerful into the pitcher.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Direct action,” said Bill. “It beats legislation.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The girl came in and laid the table for supper.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It blows like hell up here,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The girl brought in a big bowl of hot vegetable soup and the
-<span class='pageno' title='111' id='Page_111'></span>
-wine. We had fried trout afterward and some sort of a stew and a
-big bowl full of wild strawberries. We did not lose money on the
-wine, and the girl was shy but nice about bringing it. The old
-woman looked in once and counted the empty bottles.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After supper we went up-stairs and smoked and read in bed to
-keep warm. Once in the night I woke and heard the wind blowing.
-It felt good to be warm and in bed.
-<span class='pageno' title='112' id='Page_112'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>12</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>When I woke in the morning I went to the window and looked
-out. It had cleared and there were no clouds on the mountains.
-Outside under the window were some carts and an old diligence,
-the wood of the roof cracked and split by the weather. It must
-have been left from the days before the motor-buses. A goat
-hopped up on one of the carts and then to the roof of the diligence.
-He jerked his head at the other goats below and when I
-waved at him he bounded down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill was still sleeping, so I dressed, put on my shoes outside in
-the hall, and went down-stairs. No one was stirring down-stairs,
-so I unbolted the door and went out. It was cool outside in the
-early morning and the sun had not yet dried the dew that had
-come when the wind died down. I hunted around in the shed
-behind the inn and found a sort of mattock, and went down toward
-the stream to try and dig some worms for bait. The stream
-was clear and shallow but it did not look trouty. On the grassy
-bank where it was damp I drove the mattock into the earth and
-<span class='pageno' title='113' id='Page_113'></span>
-loosened a chunk of sod. There were worms underneath. They
-slid out of sight as I lifted the sod and I dug carefully and got a
-good many. Digging at the edge of the damp ground I filled two
-empty tobacco-tins with worms and sifted dirt onto them. The
-goats watched me dig.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When I went back into the inn the woman was down in the
-kitchen, and I asked her to get coffee for us, and that we wanted
-a lunch. Bill was awake and sitting on the edge of the bed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I saw you out of the window,” he said. “Didn’t want to interrupt
-you. What were you doing? Burying your money?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You lazy bum!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Been working for the common good? Splendid. I want you to
-do that every morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” I said. “Get up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What? Get up? I never get up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He climbed into bed and pulled the sheet up to his chin.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Try and argue me into getting up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went on looking for the tackle and putting it all together in
-the tackle-bag.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t you interested?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going down and eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eat? Why didn’t you say eat? I thought you just wanted me
-to get up for fun. Eat? Fine. Now you’re reasonable. You go out
-and dig some more worms and I’ll be right down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go to hell!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Work for the good of all.” Bill stepped into his underclothes.
-“Show irony and pity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I started out of the room with the tackle-bag, the nets, and the
-rod-case.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hey! come back!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I put my head in the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t you going to show a little irony and pity?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I thumbed my nose.
-<span class='pageno' title='114' id='Page_114'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not irony.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As I went down-stairs I heard Bill singing, “Irony and Pity.
-When you’re feeling .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Oh, Give them Irony and Give them
-Pity. Oh, give them Irony. When they’re feeling .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Just a little
-irony. Just a little pity .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” He kept on singing until he came
-down-stairs. The tune was: “The Bells are Ringing for Me and
-my Gal.” I was reading a week-old Spanish paper.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s all this irony and pity?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What? Don’t you know about Irony and Pity?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Who got it up?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everybody. They’re mad about it in New York. It’s just like the
-Fratellinis used to be.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The girl came in with the coffee and buttered toast. Or, rather,
-it was bread toasted and buttered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ask her if she’s got any jam,” Bill said. “Be ironical with her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you got any jam?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not ironical. I wish I could talk Spanish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The coffee was good and we drank it out of big bowls. The girl
-brought in a glass dish of raspberry jam.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hey! that’s not the way,” Bill said. “Say something ironical.
-Make some crack about Primo de Rivera.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I could ask her what kind of a jam they think they’ve gotten
-into in the Riff.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Poor,” said Bill. “Very poor. You can’t do it. That’s all. You
-don’t understand irony. You have no pity. Say something pitiful.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Robert Cohn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not so bad. That’s better. Now why is Cohn pitiful? Be ironic.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took a big gulp of coffee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aw, hell!” I said. “It’s too early in the morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There you go. And you claim you want to be a writer, too.
-You’re only a newspaper man. An expatriated newspaper man.
-<span class='pageno' title='115' id='Page_115'></span>
-You ought to be ironical the minute you get out of bed. You
-ought to wake up with your mouth full of pity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on,” I said. “Who did you get this stuff from?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everybody. Don’t you read? Don’t you ever see anybody?
-You know what you are? You’re an expatriate. Why don’t you
-live in New York? Then you’d know these things. What do you
-want me to do? Come over here and tell you every year?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take some more coffee,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. Coffee is good for you. It’s the caffeine in it. Caffeine,
-we are here. Caffeine puts a man on her horse and a woman in his
-grave. You know what’s the trouble with you? You’re an expatriate.
-One of the worst type. Haven’t you heard that? Nobody
-that ever left their own country ever wrote anything worth printing.
-Not even in the newspapers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He drank the coffee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re an expatriate. You’ve lost touch with the soil. You get
-precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink
-yourself to death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your
-time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang
-around cafés.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It sounds like a swell life,” I said. “When do I work?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t work. One group claims women support you. Another
-group claims you’re impotent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “I just had an accident.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never mention that,” Bill said. “That’s the sort of thing that
-can’t be spoken of. That’s what you ought to work up into a mystery.
-Like Henry’s bicycle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had been going splendidly, but he stopped. I was afraid he
-thought he had hurt me with that crack about being impotent. I
-wanted to start him again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It wasn’t a bicycle,” I said. “He was riding horseback.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I heard it was a tricycle.”
-<span class='pageno' title='116' id='Page_116'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said. “A plane is sort of like a tricycle. The joystick
-works the same way.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you don’t pedal it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said, “I guess you don’t pedal it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s lay off that,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right. I was just standing up for the tricycle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think he’s a good writer, too,” Bill said. “And you’re a hell
-of a good guy. Anybody ever tell you you were a good guy?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not a good guy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen. You’re a hell of a good guy, and I’m fonder of you than
-anybody on earth. I couldn’t tell you that in New York. It’d mean
-I was a faggot. That was what the Civil War was about. Abraham
-Lincoln was a faggot. He was in love with General Grant. So was
-Jefferson Davis. Lincoln just freed the slaves on a bet. The Dred
-Scott case was framed by the Anti-Saloon League. Sex explains
-it all. The Colonel’s Lady and Judy O’Grady are Lesbians under
-their skin.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He stopped.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to hear some more?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shoot,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know any more. Tell you some more at lunch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Old Bill,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You bum!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We packed the lunch and two bottles of wine in the rucksack,
-and Bill put it on. I carried the rod-case and the landing-nets
-slung over my back. We started up the road and then went across
-a meadow and found a path that crossed the fields and went
-toward the woods on the slope of the first hill. We walked across
-the fields on the sandy path. The fields were rolling and grassy
-and the grass was short from the sheep grazing. The cattle were
-up in the hills. We heard their bells in the woods.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The path crossed a stream on a foot-log. The log was surfaced
-off, and there was a sapling bent across for a rail. In the flat pool
-<span class='pageno' title='117' id='Page_117'></span>
-beside the stream tadpoles spotted the sand. We went up a steep
-bank and across the rolling fields. Looking back we saw Burguete,
-white houses and red roofs, and the white road with a truck going
-along it and the dust rising.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Beyond the fields we crossed another faster-flowing stream. A
-sandy road led down to the ford and beyond into the woods. The
-path crossed the stream on another foot-log below the ford, and
-joined the road, and we went into the woods.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a beech wood and the trees were very old. Their roots
-bulked above the ground and the branches were twisted. We
-walked on the road between the thick trunks of the old beeches
-and the sunlight came through the leaves in light patches on the
-grass. The trees were big, and the foliage was thick but it was
-not gloomy. There was no undergrowth, only the smooth grass,
-very green and fresh, and the big gray trees well spaced as
-though it were a park.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is country,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The road went up a hill and we got into thick woods, and the
-road kept on climbing. Sometimes it dipped down but rose again
-steeply. All the time we heard the cattle in the woods. Finally,
-the road came out on the top of the hills. We were on the top of
-the height of land that was the highest part of the range of
-wooded hills we had seen from Burguete. There were wild strawberries
-growing on the sunny side of the ridge in a little clearing
-in the trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ahead the road came out of the forest and went along the
-shoulder of the ridge of hills. The hills ahead were not wooded,
-and there were great fields of yellow gorse. Way off we saw the
-steep bluffs, dark with trees and jutting with gray stone, that
-marked the course of the Irati River.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We have to follow this road along the ridge, cross these hills,
-go through the woods on the far hills, and come down to the Irati
-valley,” I pointed out to Bill.
-<span class='pageno' title='118' id='Page_118'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s a hell of a hike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s too far to go and fish and come back the same day, comfortably.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Comfortably. That’s a nice word. We’ll have to go like hell to
-get there and back and have any fishing at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a long walk and the country was very fine, but we were
-tired when we came down the steep road that led out of the
-wooded hills into the valley of the Rio de la Fabrica.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The road came out from the shadow of the woods into the hot
-sun. Ahead was a river-valley. Beyond the river was a steep hill.
-There was a field of buckwheat on the hill. We saw a white house
-under some trees on the hillside. It was very hot and we stopped
-under some trees beside a dam that crossed the river.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill put the pack against one of the trees and we jointed up
-the rods, put on the reels, tied on leaders, and got ready to fish.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re sure this thing has trout in it?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s full of them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to fish a fly. You got any McGintys?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s some in there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You going to fish bait?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yeah. I’m going to fish the dam here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I’ll take the fly-book, then.” He tied on a fly. “Where’d
-I better go? Up or down?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Down is the best. They’re plenty up above, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill went down the bank.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take a worm can.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I don’t want one. If they won’t take a fly I’ll just flick it
-around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill was down below watching the stream.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say,” he called up against the noise of the dam. “How about
-putting the wine in that spring up the road?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” I shouted. Bill waved his hand and started down
-the stream. I found the two wine-bottles in the pack, and carried
-<span class='pageno' title='119' id='Page_119'></span>
-them up the road to where the water of a spring flowed out of an
-iron pipe. There was a board over the spring and I lifted it and,
-knocking the corks firmly into the bottles, lowered them down
-into the water. It was so cold my hand and wrist felt numbed. I
-put back the slab of wood, and hoped nobody would find the
-wine.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I got my rod that was leaning against the tree, took the bait-can
-and landing-net, and walked out onto the dam. It was built
-to provide a head of water for driving logs. The gate was up, and
-I sat on one of the squared timbers and watched the smooth
-apron of water before the river tumbled into the falls. In the white
-water at the foot of the dam it was deep. As I baited up, a trout
-shot up out of the white water into the falls and was carried down.
-Before I could finish baiting, another trout jumped at the falls,
-making the same lovely arc and disappearing into the water that
-was thundering down. I put on a good-sized sinker and dropped
-into the white water close to the edge of the timbers of the dam.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I did not feel the first trout strike. When I started to pull up
-I felt that I had one and brought him, fighting and bending the
-rod almost double, out of the boiling water at the foot of the falls,
-and swung him up and onto the dam. He was a good trout, and I
-banged his head against the timber so that he quivered out
-straight, and then slipped him into my bag.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>While I had him on, several trout had jumped at the falls. As
-soon as I baited up and dropped in again I hooked another and
-brought him in the same way. In a little while I had six. They
-were all about the same size. I laid them out, side by side, all
-their heads pointing the same way, and looked at them. They were
-beautifully colored and firm and hard from the cold water. It was
-a hot day, so I slit them all and shucked out the insides, gills and
-all, and tossed them over across the river. I took the trout ashore,
-washed them in the cold, smoothly heavy water above the dam,
-and then picked some ferns and packed them all in the bag, three
-<span class='pageno' title='120' id='Page_120'></span>
-trout on a layer of ferns, then another layer of fems, then three
-more trout, and then covered them with ferns. They looked nice
-in the ferns, and now the bag was bulky, and I put it in the shade
-of the tree.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was very hot on the dam, so I put my worm-can in the shade
-with the bag, and got a book out of the pack and settled down
-under the tree to read until Bill should come up for lunch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a little past noon and there was not much shade, but I
-sat against the trunk of two of the trees that grew together, and
-read. The book was something by A.&nbsp;E.&nbsp;W. Mason, and I was
-reading a wonderful story about a man who had been frozen in
-the Alps and then fallen into a glacier and disappeared, and his
-bride was going to wait twenty-four years exactly for his body to
-come out on the moraine, while her true love waited too, and they
-were still waiting when Bill came up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get any?” he asked. He had his rod and his bag and his net all
-in one hand, and he was sweating. I hadn’t heard him come up,
-because of the noise from the dam.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Six. What did you get?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill sat down, opened up his bag, laid a big trout on the grass.
-He took out three more, each one a little bigger than the last, and
-laid them side by side in the shade from the tree. His face was
-sweaty and happy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How are yours?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Smaller.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s see them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re packed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How big are they really?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re all about the size of your smallest.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re not holding out on me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish I were.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get them all on worms?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”
-<span class='pageno' title='121' id='Page_121'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You lazy bum!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill put the trout in the bag and started for the river, swinging
-the open bag. He was wet from the waist down and I knew he
-must have been wading the stream.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I walked up the road and got out the two bottles of wine. They
-were cold. Moisture beaded on the bottles as I walked back to the
-trees. I spread the lunch on a newspaper, and uncorked one of
-the bottles and leaned the other against a tree. Bill came up drying
-his hands, his bag plump with ferns.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s see that bottle,” he said. He pulled the cork, and tipped
-up the bottle and drank. “Whew! That makes my eyes ache.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s try it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wine was icy cold and tasted faintly rusty.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s not such filthy wine,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The cold helps it,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We unwrapped the little parcels of lunch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Chicken.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s hard-boiled eggs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Find any salt?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“First the egg,” said Bill. “Then the chicken. Even Bryan could
-see that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s dead. I read it in the paper yesterday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Not really?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Bryan’s dead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill laid down the egg he was peeling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Gentlemen,” he said, and unwrapped a drumstick from a piece
-of newspaper. “I reverse the order. For Bryan’s sake. As a tribute
-to the Great Commoner. First the chicken; then the egg.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonder what day God created the chicken?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” said Bill, sucking the drumstick, “how should we know?
-We should not question. Our stay on earth is not for long. Let us
-rejoice and believe and give thanks.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eat an egg.”
-<span class='pageno' title='122' id='Page_122'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill gestured with the drumstick in one hand and the bottle of
-wine in the other.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let us rejoice in our blessings. Let us utilize the fowls of the
-air. Let us utilize the product of the vine. Will you utilize a little,
-brother?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“After you, brother.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill took a long drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Utilize a little, brother,” he handed me the bottle. “Let us not
-doubt, brother. Let us not pry into the holy mysteries of the hen-coop
-with simian fingers. Let us accept on faith and simply say—I
-want you to join with me in saying—What shall we say,
-brother?” He pointed the drumstick at me and went on. “Let me
-tell you. We will say, and I for one am proud to say—and I want
-you to say with me, on your knees, brother. Let no man be
-ashamed to kneel here in the great out-of-doors. Remember the
-woods were God’s first temples. Let us kneel and say: ‘Don’t eat
-that, Lady—that’s Mencken.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here,” I said. “Utilize a little of this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We uncorked the other bottle.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?” I said. “Didn’t you like Bryan?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I loved Bryan,” said Bill. “We were like brothers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you know him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He and Mencken and I all went to Holy Cross together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And Frankie Fritsch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a lie. Frankie Fritsch went to Fordham.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “I went to Loyola with Bishop Manning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a lie,” Bill said. “I went to Loyola with Bishop Manning
-myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re cock-eyed,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On wine?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s the humidity,” Bill said. “They ought to take this damn
-humidity away.”
-<span class='pageno' title='123' id='Page_123'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another shot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is this all we’ve got?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Only the two bottles.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know what you are?” Bill looked at the bottle affectionately.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re in the pay of the Anti-Saloon League.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I went to Notre Dame with Wayne B. Wheeler.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a lie,” said Bill. “I went to Austin Business College with
-Wayne B. Wheeler. He was class president.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “the saloon must go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re right there, old classmate,” Bill said. “The saloon must
-go, and I will take it with me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re cock-eyed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On wine?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On wine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, maybe I am.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to take a nap?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We lay with our heads in the shade and looked up into the
-trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You asleep?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” Bill said. “I was thinking.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I shut my eyes. It felt good lying on the ground.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say,” Bill said, “what about this Brett business?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What about it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Were you ever in love with her?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For how long?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Off and on for a hell of a long time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, hell!” Bill said. “I’m sorry, fella.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all right,” I said. “I don’t give a damn any more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really?”
-<span class='pageno' title='124' id='Page_124'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really. Only I’d a hell of a lot rather not talk about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You aren’t sore I asked you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why the hell should I be?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to sleep,” Bill said. He put a newspaper over his face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen, Jake,” he said, “are you really a Catholic?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Technically.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What does that mean?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right, I’ll go to sleep now,” he said. “Don’t keep me awake
-by talking so much.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went to sleep, too. When I woke up Bill was packing the
-rucksack. It was late in the afternoon and the shadow from the
-trees was long and went out over the dam. I was stiff from sleeping
-on the ground.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you do? Wake up?” Bill asked. “Why didn’t you
-spend the night?” I stretched and rubbed my eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I had a lovely dream,” Bill said. “I don’t remember what it was
-about, but it was a lovely dream.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think I dreamt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought to dream,” Bill said. “All our biggest business men
-have been dreamers. Look at Ford. Look at President Coolidge.
-Look at Rockefeller. Look at Jo Davidson.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I disjointed my rod and Bill’s and packed them in the rod-case.
-I put the reels in the tackle-bag. Bill had packed the rucksack
-and we put one of the trout-bags in. I carried the other.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said Bill, “have we got everything?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The worms.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your worms. Put them in there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He had the pack on his back and I put the worm-cans in one
-of the outside flap pockets.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You got everything now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I looked around on the grass at the foot of the elm-trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”
-<span class='pageno' title='125' id='Page_125'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We started up the road into the woods. It was a long walk
-home to Burguete, and it was dark when we came down across
-the fields to the road, and along the road between the houses of
-the town, their windows lighted, to the inn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We stayed five days at Burguete and had good fishing. The
-nights were cold and the days were hot, and there was always a
-breeze even in the heat of the day. It was hot enough so that it
-felt good to wade in a cold stream, and the sun dried you when
-you came out and sat on the bank. We found a stream with a
-pool deep enough to swim in. In the evenings we played three-handed
-bridge with an Englishman named Harris, who had
-walked over from Saint Jean Pied de Port and was stopping at
-the inn for the fishing. He was very pleasant and went with us
-twice to the Irati River. There was no word from Robert Cohn
-nor from Brett and Mike.
-<span class='pageno' title='126' id='Page_126'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>13</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>One morning I went down to breakfast and the Englishman,
-Harris, was already at the table. He was reading the paper
-through spectacles. He looked up and smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good morning,” he said. “Letter for you. I stopped at the post
-and they gave it me with mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The letter was at my place at the table, leaning against a
-coffee-cup. Harris was reading the paper again. I opened the letter.
-It had been forwarded from Pamplona. It was dated San
-Sebastian, Sunday:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:left;margin-left:0em;'><span class='sc'>Dear Jake</span>,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got here Friday, Brett passed out on the train, so brought
-her here for 3 days rest with old friends of ours. We go to Montoya
-Hotel Pamplona Tuesday, arriving at I don’t know what hour.
-Will you send a note by the bus to tell us what to do to rejoin
-you all on Wednesday. All our love and sorry to be late, but Brett
-was really done in and will be quite all right by Tues. and is
-practically so now. I know her so well and try to look after her but
-it’s not so easy. Love to all the chaps,</p>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;'><span class='sc'>Michael</span>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='127' id='Page_127'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What day of the week is it?” I asked Harris.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wednesday, I think. Yes, quite. Wednesday. Wonderful how
-one loses track of the days up here in the mountains.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. We’ve been here nearly a week.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. We’ll go in on the afternoon bus, I’m afraid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a rotten business. I had hoped we’d all have another go
-at the Irati together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We have to go <span class='it'>into</span> Pamplona. We’re meeting people there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What rotten luck for me. We’ve had a jolly time here at Burguete.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on in to Pamplona. We can play some bridge there, and
-there’s going to be a damned fine fiesta.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d like to. Awfully nice of you to ask me. I’d best stop on
-here, though. I’ve not much more time to fish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You want those big ones in the Irati.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, I do, you know. They’re enormous trout there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d like to try them once more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do. Stop over another day. Be a good chap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We really have to get into town,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a pity.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After breakfast Bill and I were sitting warming in the sun on
-a bench out in front of the inn and talking it over. I saw a girl
-coming up the road from the centre of the town. She stopped in
-front of us and took a telegram out of the leather wallet that hung
-against her skirt.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Por ustedes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I looked at it. The address was: “Barnes, Burguete.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. It’s for us.”
-<span class='pageno' title='128' id='Page_128'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She brought out a book for me to sign, and I gave her a couple
-of coppers. The telegram was in Spanish: “Vengo Jueves Cohn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I handed it to Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What does the word Cohn mean?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a lousy telegram!” I said. “He could send ten words for
-the same price. ‘I come Thursday.’ That gives you a lot of dope,
-doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It gives you all the dope that’s of interest to Cohn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re going in, anyway,” I said. “There’s no use trying to move
-Brett and Mike out here and back before the fiesta. Should we
-answer it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We might as well,” said Bill. “There’s no need for us to be
-snooty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked up to the post-office and asked for a telegraph
-blank.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What will we say?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Arriving to-night.’ That’s enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We paid for the message and walked back to the inn. Harris
-was there and the three of us walked up to Roncesvalles. We went
-through the monastery.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a remarkable place,” Harris said, when we came out. “But
-you know I’m not much on those sort of places.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Me either,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a remarkable place, though,” Harris said. “I wouldn’t not
-have seen it. I’d been intending coming up each day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It isn’t the same as fishing, though, is it?” Bill asked. He liked
-Harris.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were standing in front of the old chapel of the monastery.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t that a pub across the way?” Harris asked. “Or do my
-eyes deceive me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It has the look of a pub,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It looks to me like a pub,” I said.
-<span class='pageno' title='129' id='Page_129'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say,” said Harris, “let’s utilize it.” He had taken up utilizing
-from Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had a bottle of wine apiece. Harris would not let us pay.
-He talked Spanish quite well, and the innkeeper would not take
-our money.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. You don’t know what it’s meant to me to have you chaps
-up here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve had a grand time, Harris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Harris was a little tight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. Really you don’t know how much it means. I’ve not had
-much fun since the war.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll fish together again, some time. Don’t you forget it,
-Harris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We must. We <span class='it'>have</span> had such a jolly good time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How about another bottle around?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jolly good idea,” said Harris.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is mine,” said Bill. “Or we don’t drink it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish you’d let me pay for it. It <span class='it'>does</span> give me pleasure, you
-know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is going to give me pleasure,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The innkeeper brought in the fourth bottle. We had kept the
-same glasses. Harris lifted his glass.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. You know this does utilize well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill slapped him on the back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good old Harris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say. You know my name isn’t really Harris. It’s Wilson-Harris.
-All one name. With a hyphen, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good old Wilson-Harris,” Bill said. “We call you Harris because
-we’re so fond of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, Barnes. You don’t know what this all means to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on and utilize another glass,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Barnes. Really, Barnes, you can’t know. That’s all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Drink up, Harris.”
-<span class='pageno' title='130' id='Page_130'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked back down the road from Roncesvalles with Harris
-between us. We had lunch at the inn and Harris went with us
-to the bus. He gave us his card, with his address in London and
-his club and his business address, and as we got on the bus he
-handed us each an envelope. I opened mine and there were a
-dozen flies in it. Harris had tied them himself. He tied all his
-own flies.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, Harris—” I began.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, no!” he said. He was climbing down from the bus.
-“They’re not first-rate flies at all. I only thought if you fished them
-some time it might remind you of what a good time we had.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bus started. Harris stood in front of the post-office. He
-waved. As we started along the road he turned and walked
-back toward the inn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say, wasn’t that Harris nice?” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think he really did have a good time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Harris? You bet he did.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish he’d come into Pamplona.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He wanted to fish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. You couldn’t tell how English would mix with each other,
-anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We got into Pamplona late in the afternoon and the bus stopped
-in front of the Hotel Montoya. Out in the plaza they were stringing
-electric-light wires to light the plaza for the fiesta. A few kids
-came up when the bus stopped, and a customs officer for the town
-made all the people getting down from the bus open their bundles
-on the sidewalk. We went into the hotel and on the stairs I met
-Montoya. He shook hands with us, smiling in his embarrassed
-way.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your friends are here,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Campbell?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Mr. Cohn and Mr. Campbell and Lady Ashley.”
-<span class='pageno' title='131' id='Page_131'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He smiled as though there were something I would hear about.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When did they get in?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yesterday. I’ve saved you the rooms you had.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s fine. Did you give Mr. Campbell the room on the
-plaza?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. All the rooms we looked at.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where are our friends now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think they went to the pelota.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And how about the bulls?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya smiled. “To-night,” he said. “To-night at seven o’clock
-they bring in the Villar bulls, and to-morrow come the Miuras.
-Do you all go down?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. They’ve never seen a desencajonada.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya put his hand on my shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll see you there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He smiled again. He always smiled as though bull-fighting were
-a very special secret between the two of us; a rather shocking but
-really very deep secret that we knew about. He always smiled as
-though there were something lewd about the secret to outsiders,
-but that it was something that we understood. It would not do
-to expose it to people who would not understand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your friend, is he aficionado, too?” Montoya smiled at Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. He came all the way from New York to see the San
-Fermines.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes?” Montoya politely disbelieved. “But he’s not aficionado
-like you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He put his hand on my shoulder again embarrassedly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “He’s a real aficionado.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But he’s not aficionado like you are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Aficion means passion. An aficionado is one who is passionate
-about the bull-fights. All the good bull-fighters stayed at Montoya’s
-hotel; that is, those with aficion stayed there. The commercial
-bull-fighters stayed once, perhaps, and then did not come
-<span class='pageno' title='132' id='Page_132'></span>
-back. The good ones came each year. In Montoya’s room were
-their photographs. The photographs were dedicated to Juanito
-Montoya or to his sister. The photographs of bull-fighters Montoya
-had really believed in were framed. Photographs of bull-fighters
-who had been without aficion Montoya kept in a drawer
-of his desk. They often had the most flattering inscriptions. But
-they did not mean anything. One day Montoya took them all out
-and dropped them in the waste-basket. He did not want them
-around.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We often talked about bulls and bull-fighters. I had stopped at
-the Montoya for several years. We never talked for very long at a
-time. It was simply the pleasure of discovering what we each felt.
-Men would come in from distant towns and before they left
-Pamplona stop and talk for a few minutes with Montoya about
-bulls. These men were aficionados. Those who were aficionados
-could always get rooms even when the hotel was full. Montoya
-introduced me to some of them. They were always very polite at
-first, and it amused them very much that I should be an American.
-Somehow it was taken for granted that an American could
-not have aficion. He might simulate it or confuse it with excitement,
-but he could not really have it. When they saw that I had
-aficion, and there was no password, no set questions that could
-bring it out, rather it was a sort of oral spiritual examination with
-the questions always a little on the defensive and never apparent,
-there was this same embarrassed putting the hand on the shoulder,
-or a “Buen hombre.” But nearly always there was the actual
-touching. It seemed as though they wanted to touch you to make
-it certain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya could forgive anything of a bull-fighter who had aficion.
-He could forgive attacks of nerves, panic, bad unexplainable
-actions, all sorts of lapses. For one who had aficion he could forgive
-anything. At once he forgave me all my friends. Without
-his ever saying anything they were simply a little something
-<span class='pageno' title='133' id='Page_133'></span>
-shameful between us, like the spilling open of the horses in bull-fighting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill had gone up-stairs as we came in, and I found him washing
-and changing in his room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” he said, “talk a lot of Spanish?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was telling me about the bulls coming in to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s find the gang and go down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right. They’ll probably be at the café.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you got tickets?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. I got them for all the unloadings.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s it like?” He was pulling his cheek before the glass,
-looking to see if there were unshaved patches under the line of
-the jaw.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s pretty good,” I said. “They let the bulls out of the cages
-one at a time, and they have steers in the corral to receive them
-and keep them from fighting, and the bulls tear in at the steers
-and the steers run around like old maids trying to quiet them
-down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do they ever gore the steers?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. Sometimes they go right after them and kill them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t the steers do anything?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. They’re trying to make friends.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do they have them in for?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To quiet down the bulls and keep them from breaking
-horns against the stone walls, or goring each other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Must be swell being a steer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went down the stairs and out of the door and walked across
-the square toward the Café Iruña. There were two lonely looking
-ticket-houses standing in the square. Their windows, marked
-<span style='font-size:smaller'>SOL</span>, <span style='font-size:smaller'>SOL Y SOMBRA</span>, and <span style='font-size:smaller'>SOMBRA</span>, were shut. They would not open
-until the day before the fiesta.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Across the square the white wicker tables and chairs of the
-Iruña extended out beyond the Arcade to the edge of the street.
-<span class='pageno' title='134' id='Page_134'></span>
-I looked for Brett and Mike at the tables. There they were. Brett
-and Mike and Robert Cohn. Brett was wearing a Basque beret.
-So was Mike. Robert Cohn was bare-headed and wearing his
-spectacles. Brett saw us coming and waved. Her eyes crinkled up
-as we came up to the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, you chaps!” she called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett was happy. Mike had a way of getting an intensity of
-feeling into shaking hands. Robert Cohn shook hands because we
-were back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where the hell have you been?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I brought them up here,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What rot,” Brett said. “We’d have gotten here earlier if you
-hadn’t come.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’d never have gotten here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What rot! You chaps are brown. Look at Bill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you get good fishing?” Mike asked. “We wanted to join
-you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It wasn’t bad. We missed you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wanted to come,” Cohn said, “but I thought I ought to bring
-them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You bring us. What rot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was it really good?” Mike asked. “Did you take many?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some days we took a dozen apiece. There was an Englishman
-up there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Named Harris,” Bill said. “Ever know him, Mike? He was in
-the war, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fortunate fellow,” Mike said. “What times we had. How I wish
-those dear days were back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be an ass.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Were you in the war, Mike?” Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was I not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was a very distinguished soldier,” Brett said. “Tell them
-about the time your horse bolted down Piccadilly.”
-<span class='pageno' title='135' id='Page_135'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll not. I’ve told that four times.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You never told me,” Robert Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll not tell that story. It reflects discredit on me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell them about your medals.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll not. That story reflects great discredit on me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What story’s that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett will tell you. She tells all the stories that reflect discredit
-on me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on. Tell it, Brett.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Should I?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll tell it myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What medals have you got, Mike?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t got any medals.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You must have some.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose I’ve the usual medals. But I never sent in for them.
-One time there was this wopping big dinner and the Prince of
-Wales was to be there, and the cards said medals will be worn.
-So naturally I had no medals, and I stopped at my tailor’s and he
-was impressed by the invitation, and I thought that’s a good piece
-of business, and I said to him: ‘You’ve got to fix me up with some
-medals.’ He said: ‘What medals, sir?’ And I said: ‘Oh, any medals.
-Just give me a few medals.’ So he said: ‘What medals <span class='it'>have</span> you,
-sir?’ And I said: ‘How should I know?’ Did he think I spent all my
-time reading the bloody gazette? ‘Just give me a good lot. Pick
-them out yourself.’ So he got me some medals, you know, miniature
-medals, and handed me the box, and I put it in my pocket
-and forgot it. Well, I went to the dinner, and it was the night
-they’d shot Henry Wilson, so the Prince didn’t come and the King
-didn’t come, and no one wore any medals, and all these coves
-were busy taking off their medals, and I had mine in my pocket.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He stopped for us to laugh.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that all?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s all. Perhaps I didn’t tell it right.”
-<span class='pageno' title='136' id='Page_136'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You didn’t,” said Brett. “But no matter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were all laughing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, yes,” said Mike. “I know now. It was a damn dull dinner,
-and I couldn’t stick it, so I left. Later on in the evening I found
-the box in my pocket. What’s this? I said. Medals? Bloody military
-medals? So I cut them all off their backing—you know, they
-put them on a strip—and gave them all around. Gave one to each
-girl. Form of souvenir. They thought I was hell’s own shakes of a
-soldier. Give away medals in a night club. Dashing fellow.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell the rest,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you think that was funny?” Mike asked. We were all
-laughing. “It was. I swear it was. Any rate, my tailor wrote me
-and wanted the medals back. Sent a man around. Kept on writing
-for months. Seems some chap had left them to be cleaned. Frightfully
-military cove. Set hell’s own store by them.” Mike paused.
-“Rotten luck for the tailor,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t mean it,” Bill said. “I should think it would have
-been grand for the tailor.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Frightfully good tailor. Never believe it to see me now,” Mike
-said. “I used to pay him a hundred pounds a year just to keep him
-quiet. So he wouldn’t send me any bills. Frightful blow to him
-when I went bankrupt. It was right after the medals. Gave his
-letters rather a bitter tone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How did you go bankrupt?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Two ways,” Mike said. “Gradually and then suddenly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What brought it on?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Friends,” said Mike. “I had a lot of friends. False friends. Then
-I had creditors, too. Probably had more creditors than anybody
-in England.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell them about in the court,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t remember,” Mike said. “I was just a little tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tight!” Brett exclaimed. “You were blind!”
-<span class='pageno' title='137' id='Page_137'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Extraordinary thing,” Mike said. “Met my former partner the
-other day. Offered to buy me a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell them about your learned counsel,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I will not,” Mike said. “My learned counsel was blind, too. I
-say this is a gloomy subject. Are we going down and see these
-bulls unloaded or not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We called the waiter, paid, and started to walk through the
-town. I started off walking with Brett, but Robert Cohn came up
-and joined her on the other side. The three of us walked along,
-past the Ayuntamiento with the banners hung from the balcony,
-down past the market and down past the steep street that led to
-the bridge across the Arga. There were many people walking to
-go and see the bulls, and carriages drove down the hill and across
-the bridge, the drivers, the horses, and the whips rising above the
-walking people in the street. Across the bridge we turned up a
-road to the corrals. We passed a wine-shop with a sign in the
-window: Good Wine 30 Centimes A Liter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s where we’ll go when funds get low,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The woman standing in the door of the wine-shop looked at us
-as we passed. She called to some one in the house and three
-girls came to the window and stared. They were staring at Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the gate of the corrals two men took tickets from the people
-that went in. We went in through the gate. There were trees inside
-and a low, stone house. At the far end was the stone wall of
-the corrals, with apertures in the stone that were like loopholes
-running all along the face of each corral. A ladder led up to the
-top of the wall, and people were climbing up the ladder and
-spreading down to stand on the walls that separated the two
-corrals. As we came up the ladder, walking across the grass under
-the trees, we passed the big, gray painted cages with the bulls in
-them. There was one bull in each travelling-box. They had come
-by train from a bull-breeding ranch in Castile, and had been
-<span class='pageno' title='138' id='Page_138'></span>
-unloaded off flat-cars at the station and brought up here to be let
-out of their cages into the corrals. Each cage was stencilled with
-the name and the brand of the bull-breeder.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We climbed up and found a place on the wall looking down
-into the corral. The stone walls were whitewashed, and there was
-straw on the ground and wooden feed-boxes and water-troughs
-set against the wall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look up there,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Beyond the river rose the plateau of the town. All along the old
-walls and ramparts people were standing. The three lines of fortifications
-made three black lines of people. Above the walls there
-were heads in the windows of the houses. At the far end of the
-plateau boys had climbed into the trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They must think something is going to happen,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They want to see the bulls.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mike and Bill were on the other wall across the pit of the corral.
-They waved to us. People who had come late were standing behind
-us, pressing against us when other people crowded them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why don’t they start?” Robert Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A single mule was hitched to one of the cages and dragged it
-up against the gate in the corral wall. The men shoved and lifted
-it with crowbars into position against the gate. Men were standing
-on the wall ready to pull up the gate of the corral and then
-the gate of the cage. At the other end of the corral a gate opened
-and two steers came in, swaying their heads and trotting, their
-lean flanks swinging. They stood together at the far end, their
-heads toward the gate where the bull would enter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They don’t look happy,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The men on top of the wall leaned back and pulled up the door
-of the corral. Then they pulled up the door of the cage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I leaned way over the wall and tried to see into the cage. It
-was dark. Some one rapped on the cage with an iron bar. Inside
-something seemed to explode. The bull, striking into the wood
-<span class='pageno' title='139' id='Page_139'></span>
-from side to side with his horns, made a great noise. Then I saw a
-dark muzzle and the shadow of horns, and then, with a clattering
-on the wood in the hollow box, the bull charged and came out
-into the corral, skidding with his forefeet in the straw as he
-stopped, his head up, the great hump of muscle on his neck
-swollen tight, his body muscles quivering as he looked up at the
-crowd on the stone walls. The two steers backed away against the
-wall, their heads sunken, their eyes watching the bull.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bull saw them and charged. A man shouted from behind
-one of the boxes and slapped his hat against the planks, and the
-bull, before he reached the steer, turned, gathered himself and
-charged where the man had been, trying to reach him behind the
-planks with a half-dozen quick, searching drives with the right
-horn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God, isn’t he beautiful?” Brett said. We were looking right
-down on him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look how he knows how to use his horns,” I said. “He’s got a
-left and a right just like a boxer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not really?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You watch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It goes too fast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wait. There’ll be another one in a minute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They had backed up another cage into the entrance. In the far
-corner a man, from behind one of the plank shelters, attracted the
-bull, and while the bull was facing away the gate was pulled up
-and a second bull came out into the corral.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He charged straight for the steers and two men ran out from
-behind the planks and shouted, to turn him. He did not change
-his direction and the men shouted: “Hah! Hah! Toro!” and waved
-their arms; the two steers turned sideways to take the shock, and
-the bull drove into one of the steers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t look,” I said to Brett. She was watching, fascinated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine,” I said. “If it doesn’t buck you.”
-<span class='pageno' title='140' id='Page_140'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I saw it,” she said. “I saw him shift from his left to his right
-horn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damn good!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The steer was down now, his neck stretched out, his head
-twisted, he lay the way he had fallen. Suddenly the bull left off
-and made for the other steer which had been standing at the far
-end, his head swinging, watching it all. The steer ran awkwardly
-and the bull caught him, hooked him lightly in the flank, and then
-turned away and looked up at the crowd on the walls, his crest of
-muscle rising. The steer came up to him and made as though to
-nose at him and the bull hooked perfunctorily. The next time he
-nosed at the steer and then the two of them trotted over to the
-other bull.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When the next bull came out, all three, the two bulls and the
-steer, stood together, their heads side by side, their horns against
-the newcomer. In a few minutes the steer picked the new bull up,
-quieted him down, and made him one of the herd. When the last
-two bulls had been unloaded the herd were all together.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The steer who had been gored had gotten to his feet and stood
-against the stone wall. None of the bulls came near him, and he
-did not attempt to join the herd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We climbed down from the wall with the crowd, and had a last
-look at the bulls through the loopholes in the wall of the corral.
-They were all quiet now, their heads down. We got a carriage
-outside and rode up to the café. Mike and Bill came in half an
-hour later. They had stopped on the way for several drinks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were sitting in the café.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s an extraordinary business,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will those last ones fight as well as the first?” Robert Cohn
-asked. “They seemed to quiet down awfully fast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They all know each other,” I said. “They’re only dangerous
-when they’re alone, or only two or three of them together.”
-<span class='pageno' title='141' id='Page_141'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean, dangerous?” Bill said. “They all looked
-dangerous to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They only want to kill when they’re alone. Of course, if you
-went in there you’d probably detach one of them from the herd,
-and he’d be dangerous.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s too complicated,” Bill said. “Don’t you ever detach me
-from the herd, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say,” Mike said, “they <span class='it'>were</span> fine bulls, weren’t they? Did you
-see their horns?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did I not,” said Brett. “I had no idea what they were like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you see the one hit that steer?” Mike asked. “That was
-extraordinary.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s no life being a steer,” Robert Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you think so?” Mike said. “I would have thought you’d
-loved being a steer, Robert.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean, Mike?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They lead such a quiet life. They never say anything and
-they’re always hanging about so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were embarrassed. Bill laughed. Robert Cohn was angry.
-Mike went on talking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should think you’d love it. You’d never have to say a word.
-Come on, Robert. Do say something. Don’t just sit there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said something, Mike. Don’t you remember? About the
-steers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, say something more. Say something funny. Can’t you see
-we’re all having a good time here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come off it, Michael. You’re drunk,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not drunk. I’m quite serious. <span class='it'>Is</span> Robert Cohn going to follow
-Brett around like a steer all the time?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shut up, Michael. Try and show a little breeding.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Breeding be damned. Who has any breeding, anyway, except
-the bulls? Aren’t the bulls lovely? Don’t you like them, Bill? Why
-don’t you say something, Robert? Don’t sit there looking like a
-<span class='pageno' title='142' id='Page_142'></span>
-bloody funeral. What if Brett did sleep with you? She’s slept with
-lots of better people than you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shut up,” Cohn said. He stood up. “Shut up, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t stand up and act as though you were going to hit
-me. That won’t make any difference to me. Tell me, Robert. Why
-do you follow Brett around like a poor bloody steer? Don’t you
-know you’re not wanted? I know when I’m not wanted. Why
-don’t you know when you’re not wanted? You came down to San
-Sebastian where you weren’t wanted, and followed Brett around
-like a bloody steer. Do you think that’s right?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shut up. You’re drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I am drunk. Why aren’t you drunk? Why don’t you
-ever get drunk, Robert? You know you didn’t have a good time
-at San Sebastian because none of our friends would invite you
-on any of the parties. You can’t blame them hardly. Can you?
-I asked them to. They wouldn’t do it. You can’t blame them, now.
-Can you? Now, answer me. Can you blame them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go to hell, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t blame them. Can you blame them? Why do you follow
-Brett around? Haven’t you any manners? How do you think it
-makes <span class='it'>me</span> feel?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re a splendid one to talk about manners,” Brett said.
-“You’ve such lovely manners.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on, Robert,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you follow her around for?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill stood up and took hold of Cohn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t go,” Mike said. “Robert Cohn’s going to buy a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill went off with Cohn. Cohn’s face was sallow. Mike went on
-talking. I sat and listened for a while. Brett looked disgusted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, Michael, you might not be such a bloody ass,” she interrupted.
-“I’m not saying he’s not right, you know.” She turned
-to me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The emotion left Mike’s voice. We were all friends together.
-<span class='pageno' title='143' id='Page_143'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not so damn drunk as I sounded,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know you’re not,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re none of us sober,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you put it so badly,” Brett laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was an ass, though. He came down to San Sebastian where
-he damn well wasn’t wanted. He hung around Brett and just
-<span class='it'>looked</span> at her. It made me damned well sick.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He did behave very badly,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mark you. Brett’s had affairs with men before. She tells me all
-about everything. She gave me this chap Cohn’s letters to read.
-I wouldn’t read them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned noble of you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, listen, Jake. Brett’s gone off with men. But they weren’t
-ever Jews, and they didn’t come and hang about afterward.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned good chaps,” Brett said. “It’s all rot to talk about it.
-Michael and I understand each other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She gave me Robert Cohn’s letters. I wouldn’t read them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t read any letters, darling. You wouldn’t read
-mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t read letters,” Mike said. “Funny, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can’t read anything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. You’re wrong there. I read quite a bit. I read when I’m
-at home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll be writing next,” Brett said. “Come on, Michael. Do
-buck up. You’ve got to go through with this thing now. He’s here.
-Don’t spoil the fiesta.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, let him behave, then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’ll behave. I’ll tell him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You tell him, Jake. Tell him either he must behave or get out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said, “it would be nice for me to tell him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look, Brett. Tell Jake what Robert calls you. That is perfect,
-you know.”
-<span class='pageno' title='144' id='Page_144'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no. I can’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on. We’re all friends. Aren’t we all friends, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t tell him. It’s too ridiculous.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll tell him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You won’t, Michael. Don’t be an ass.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He calls her Circe,” Mike said. “He claims she turns men into
-swine. Damn good. I wish I were one of these literary chaps.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’d be good, you know,” Brett said. “He writes a good letter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know,” I said. “He wrote me from San Sebastian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was nothing,” Brett said. “He can write a damned amusing
-letter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She made me write that. She was supposed to be ill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I damned well was, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” I said, “we must go in and eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How should I meet Cohn?” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just act as though nothing had happened.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s quite all right with me,” Mike said. “I’m not embarrassed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If he says anything, just say you were tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quite. And the funny thing is I think I was tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” Brett said. “Are these poisonous things paid for?
-I must bathe before dinner.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked across the square. It was dark and all around the
-square were the lights from the cafés under the arcades. We
-walked across the gravel under the trees to the hotel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They went up-stairs and I stopped to speak with Montoya.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, how did you like the bulls?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. They were nice bulls.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re all right”—Montoya shook his head—“but they’re not
-too good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What didn’t you like about them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. They just didn’t give me the feeling that they
-were so good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know what you mean.”
-<span class='pageno' title='145' id='Page_145'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. They’re all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How did your friends like them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good,” Montoya said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went up-stairs. Bill was in his room standing on the balcony
-looking out at the square. I stood beside him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s Cohn?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Up-stairs in his room.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How does he feel?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Like hell, naturally. Mike was awful. He’s terrible when he’s
-tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He wasn’t so tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The hell he wasn’t. I know what we had before we came to
-the café.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He sobered up afterward.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. He was terrible. I don’t like Cohn, God knows, and I
-think it was a silly trick for him to go down to San Sebastian, but
-nobody has any business to talk like Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’d you like the bulls?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Grand. It’s grand the way they bring them out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To-morrow come the Miuras.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When does the fiesta start?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Day after to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve got to keep Mike from getting so tight. That kind of
-stuff is terrible.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’d better get cleaned up for supper.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. That will be a pleasant meal.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As a matter of fact, supper was a pleasant meal. Brett wore a
-black, sleeveless evening dress. She looked quite beautiful. Mike
-acted as though nothing had happened. I had to go up and bring
-Robert Cohn down. He was reserved and formal, and his face
-<span class='pageno' title='146' id='Page_146'></span>
-was still taut and sallow, but he cheered up finally. He could not
-stop looking at Brett. It seemed to make him happy. It must
-have been pleasant for him to see her looking so lovely, and know
-he had been away with her and that every one knew it. They
-could not take that away from him. Bill was very funny. So was
-Michael. They were good together.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was like certain dinners I remember from the war. There
-was much wine, an ignored tension, and a feeling of things coming
-that you could not prevent happening. Under the wine I lost
-the disgusted feeling and was happy. It seemed they were all
-such nice people.
-<span class='pageno' title='147' id='Page_147'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>14</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>I do not know what time I got to bed. I remember undressing,
-putting on a bathrobe, and standing out on the balcony. I knew
-I was quite drunk, and when I came in I put on the light over
-the head of the bed and started to read. I was reading a book
-by Turgenieff. Probably I read the same two pages over several
-times. It was one of the stories in “A Sportsman’s Sketches.” I
-had read it before, but it seemed quite new. The country became
-very clear and the feeling of pressure in my head seemed to
-loosen. I was very drunk and I did not want to shut my eyes because
-the room would go round and round. If I kept on reading
-that feeling would pass.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I heard Brett and Robert Cohn come up the stairs. Cohn said
-good night outside the door and went on up to his room. I heard
-Brett go into the room next door. Mike was already in bed. He
-had come in with me an hour before. He woke as she came in,
-and they talked together. I heard them laugh. I turned off the
-light and tried to go to sleep. It was not necessary to read any
-<span class='pageno' title='148' id='Page_148'></span>
-more. I could shut my eyes without getting the wheeling sensation.
-But I could not sleep. There is no reason why because it is
-dark you should look at things differently from when it is light.
-The hell there isn’t!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I figured that all out once, and for six months I never slept with
-the electric light off. That was another bright idea. To hell with
-women, anyway. To hell with you, Brett Ashley.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Women made such swell friends. Awfully swell. In the first
-place, you had to be in love with a woman to have a basis of
-friendship. I had been having Brett for a friend. I had not been
-thinking about her side of it. I had been getting something for
-nothing. That only delayed the presentation of the bill. The bill
-always came. That was one of the swell things you could count on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I thought I had paid for everything. Not like the woman pays
-and pays and pays. No idea of retribution or punishment. Just
-exchange of values. You gave up something and got something
-else. Or you worked for something. You paid some way for
-everything that was any good. I paid my way into enough things
-that I liked, so that I had a good time. Either you paid by learning
-about them, or by experience, or by taking chances, or by
-money. Enjoying living was learning to get your money’s worth
-and knowing when you had it. You could get your money’s
-worth. The world was a good place to buy in. It seemed like a
-fine philosophy. In five years, I thought, it will seem just as silly as
-all the other fine philosophies I’ve had.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Perhaps that wasn’t true, though. Perhaps as you went along
-you did learn something. I did not care what it was all about. All
-I wanted to know was how to live in it. Maybe if you found out
-how to live in it you learned from that what it was all about.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I wished Mike would not behave so terribly to Cohn, though.
-Mike was a bad drunk. Brett was a good drunk. Bill was a good
-drunk. Cohn was never drunk. Mike was unpleasant after he
-passed a certain point. I liked to see him hurt Cohn. I wished he
-<span class='pageno' title='149' id='Page_149'></span>
-would not do it, though, because afterward it made me disgusted
-at myself. That was morality; things that made you disgusted
-afterward. No, that must be immorality. That was a large statement.
-What a lot of bilge I could think up at night. What rot, I
-could hear Brett say it. What rot! When you were with English
-you got into the habit of using English expressions in your thinking.
-The English spoken language—the upper classes, anyway—must
-have fewer words than the Eskimo. Of course I didn’t know
-anything about the Eskimo. Maybe the Eskimo was a fine language.
-Say the Cherokee. I didn’t know anything about the Cherokee,
-either. The English talked with inflected phrases. One phrase
-to mean everything. I liked them, though. I liked the way they
-talked. Take Harris. Still Harris was not the upper classes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I turned on the light again and read. I read the Turgenieff. I
-knew that now, reading it in the oversensitized state of my mind
-after much too much brandy, I would remember it somewhere,
-and afterward it would seem as though it had really happened
-to me. I would always have it. That was another good thing you
-paid for and then had. Some time along toward daylight I went
-to sleep.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The next two days in Pamplona were quiet, and there were no
-more rows. The town was getting ready for the fiesta. Workmen
-put up the gate-posts that were to shut off the side streets when
-the bulls were released from the corrals and came running
-through the streets in the morning on their way to the ring. The
-workmen dug holes and fitted in the timbers, each timber numbered
-for its regular place. Out on the plateau beyond the town
-employees of the bull-ring exercised picador horses, galloping
-them stiff-legged on the hard, sun-baked fields behind the bull-ring.
-The big gate of the bull-ring was open, and inside the amphitheatre
-was being swept. The ring was rolled and sprinkled, and
-carpenters replaced weakened or cracked planks in the barrera.
-<span class='pageno' title='150' id='Page_150'></span>
-Standing at the edge of the smooth rolled sand you could look
-up in the empty stands and see old women sweeping out the
-boxes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside, the fence that led from the last street of the town to
-the entrance of the bull-ring was already in place and made a
-long pen; the crowd would come running down with the bulls
-behind them on the morning of the day of the first bull-fight. Out
-across the plain, where the horse and cattle fair would be, some
-gypsies had camped under the trees. The wine and aguardiente
-sellers were putting up their booths. One booth advertised <span class='sc'>ANIS
-DEL TORO</span>. The cloth sign hung against the planks in the hot sun.
-In the big square that was the centre of the town there was no
-change yet. We sat in the white wicker chairs on the terrasse of
-the café and watched the motor-buses come in and unload
-peasants from the country coming in to the market, and we
-watched the buses fill up and start out with peasants sitting with
-their saddle-bags full of the things they had bought in the town.
-The tall gray motor-buses were the only life of the square except
-for the pigeons and the man with a hose who sprinkled the
-gravelled square and watered the streets.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the evening was the paseo. For an hour after dinner every
-one, all the good-looking girls, the officers from the garrison, all
-the fashionable people of the town, walked in the street on one
-side of the square while the café tables filled with the regular
-after-dinner crowd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>During the morning I usually sat in the café and read the
-Madrid papers and then walked in the town or out into the country.
-Sometimes Bill went along. Sometimes he wrote in his room.
-Robert Cohn spent the mornings studying Spanish or trying to
-get a shave at the barber-shop. Brett and Mike never got up until
-noon. We all had a vermouth at the café. It was a quiet life and
-no one was drunk. I went to church a couple of times, once with
-Brett. She said she wanted to hear me go to confession, but I told
-<span class='pageno' title='151' id='Page_151'></span>
-her that not only was it impossible but it was not as interesting
-as it sounded, and, besides, it would be in a language she did not
-know. We met Cohn as we came out of church, and although it
-was obvious he had followed us, yet he was very pleasant and
-nice, and we all three went for a walk out to the gypsy camp,
-and Brett had her fortune told.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a good morning, there were high white clouds above
-the mountains. It had rained a little in the night and it was fresh
-and cool on the plateau, and there was a wonderful view. We
-all felt good and we felt healthy, and I felt quite friendly to
-Cohn. You could not be upset about anything on a day like that.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That was the last day before the fiesta.
-<span class='pageno' title='152' id='Page_152'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>15</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>At noon of Sunday, the 6th of July, the fiesta exploded. There is
-no other way to describe it. People had been coming in all day
-from the country, but they were assimilated in the town and you
-did not notice them. The square was as quiet in the hot sun as
-on any other day. The peasants were in the outlying wine-shops.
-There they were drinking, getting ready for the fiesta. They had
-come in so recently from the plains and the hills that it was
-necessary that they make their shifting in values gradually. They
-could not start in paying café prices. They got their money’s
-worth in the wine-shops. Money still had a definite value in hours
-worked and bushels of grain sold. Late in the fiesta it would not
-matter what they paid, nor where they bought.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Now on the day of the starting of the fiesta of San Fermin
-they had been in the wine-shops of the narrow streets of the town
-since early morning. Going down the streets in the morning on
-the way to mass in the cathedral, I heard them singing through
-the open doors of the shops. They were warming up. There were
-<span class='pageno' title='153' id='Page_153'></span>
-many people at the eleven o’clock mass. San Fermin is also a
-religious festival.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I walked down the hill from the cathedral and up the street to
-the café on the square. It was a little before noon. Robert Cohn
-and Bill were sitting at one of the tables. The marble-topped
-tables and the white wicker chairs were gone. They were replaced
-by cast-iron tables and severe folding chairs. The café was like a
-battleship stripped for action. To-day the waiters did not leave
-you alone all morning to read without asking if you wanted to
-order something. A waiter came up as soon as I sat down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you drinking?” I asked Bill and Robert.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sherry,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jerez,” I said to the waiter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before the waiter brought the sherry the rocket that announced
-the fiesta went up in the square. It burst and there was a gray
-ball of smoke high up above the Theatre Gayarre, across on the
-other side of the plaza. The ball of smoke hung in the sky like a
-shrapnel burst, and as I watched, another rocket came up to
-it, trickling smoke in the bright sunlight. I saw the bright flash as
-it burst and another little cloud of smoke appeared. By the time
-the second rocket had burst there were so many people in the
-arcade, that had been empty a minute before, that the waiter,
-holding the bottle high up over his head, could hardly get through
-the crowd to our table. People were coming into the square from
-all sides, and down the street we heard the pipes and the fifes
-and the drums coming. They were playing the <span class='it'>riau-riau</span> music,
-the pipes shrill and the drums pounding, and behind them came
-the men and boys dancing. When the fifers stopped they all
-crouched down in the street, and when the reed-pipes and the
-fifes shrilled, and the flat, dry, hollow drums tapped it out again,
-they all went up in the air dancing. In the crowd you saw only
-the heads and shoulders of the dancers going up and down.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the square a man, bent over, was playing on a reed-pipe,
-<span class='pageno' title='154' id='Page_154'></span>
-and a crowd of children were following him shouting, and pulling
-at his clothes. He came out of the square, the children following
-him, and piped them past the café and down a side street. We
-saw his blank pockmarked face as he went by, piping, the children
-close behind him shouting and pulling at him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He must be the village idiot,” Bill said. “My God! look at that!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Down the street came dancers. The street was solid with
-dancers, all men. They were all dancing in time behind their
-own fifers and drummers. They were a club of some sort, and all
-wore workmen’s blue smocks, and red handkerchiefs around their
-necks, and carried a great banner on two poles. The banner
-danced up and down with them as they came down surrounded
-by the crowd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hurray for Wine! Hurray for the Foreigners!” was painted
-on the banner.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where are the foreigners?” Robert Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’re the foreigners,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>All the time rockets were going up. The café tables were all
-full now. The square was emptying of people and the crowd was
-filling the cafés.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s Brett and Mike?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll go and get them,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bring them here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The fiesta was really started. It kept up day and night for seven
-days. The dancing kept up, the drinking kept up, the noise went
-on. The things that happened could only have happened during
-a fiesta. Everything became quite unreal finally and it seemed as
-though nothing could have any consequences. It seemed out of
-place to think of consequences during the fiesta. All during the
-fiesta you had the feeling, even when it was quiet, that you had
-to shout any remark to make it heard. It was the same feeling
-about any action. It was a fiesta and it went on for seven days.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That afternoon was the big religious procession. San Fermin
-<span class='pageno' title='155' id='Page_155'></span>
-was translated from one church to another. In the procession were
-all the dignitaries, civil and religious. We could not see them because
-the crowd was too great. Ahead of the formal procession
-and behind it danced the <span class='it'>riau-riau</span> dancers. There was one mass
-of yellow shirts dancing up and down in the crowd. All we could
-see of the procession through the closely pressed people that
-crowded all the side streets and curbs were the great giants, cigar-store
-Indians, thirty feet high, Moors, a King and Queen, whirling
-and waltzing solemnly to the <span class='it'>riau-riau</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were all standing outside the chapel where San Fermin
-and the dignitaries had passed in, leaving a guard of soldiers, the
-giants, with the men who danced in them standing beside their
-resting frames, and the dwarfs moving with their whacking bladders
-through the crowd. We started inside and there was a smell
-of incense and people filing back into the church, but Brett was
-stopped just inside the door because she had no hat, so we went
-out again and along the street that ran back from the chapel into
-town. The street was lined on both sides with people keeping
-their place at the curb for the return of the procession. Some
-dancers formed a circle around Brett and started to dance. They
-wore big wreaths of white garlics around their necks. They took
-Bill and me by the arms and put us in the circle. Bill started to
-dance, too. They were all chanting. Brett wanted to dance but
-they did not want her to. They wanted her as an image to dance
-around. When the song ended with the sharp <span class='it'>riau-riau!</span> they
-rushed us into a wine-shop.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We stood at the counter. They had Brett seated on a wine-cask.
-It was dark in the wine-shop and full of men singing, hard-voiced
-singing. Back of the counter they drew the wine from
-casks. I put down money for the wine, but one of the men picked
-it up and put it back in my pocket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want a leather wine-bottle,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There’s a place down the street,” I said. “I’ll go get a couple.”
-<span class='pageno' title='156' id='Page_156'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The dancers did not want me to go out. Three of them were
-sitting on the high wine-cask beside Brett, teaching her to drink
-out of the wine-skins. They had hung a wreath of garlics around
-her neck. Some one insisted on giving her a glass. Somebody was
-teaching Bill a song. Singing it into his ear. Beating time on Bill’s
-back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I explained to them that I would be back. Outside in the street
-I went down the street looking for the shop that made leather
-wine-bottles. The crowd was packed on the sidewalks and many
-of the shops were shuttered, and I could not find it. I walked as
-far as the church, looking on both sides of the street. Then I
-asked a man and he took me by the arm and led me to it. The
-shutters were up but the door was open.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Inside it smelled of fresh tanned leather and hot tar. A man
-was stencilling completed wine-skins. They hung from the roof
-in bunches. He took one down, blew it up, screwed the nozzle
-tight, and then jumped on it</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See! It doesn’t leak.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want another one, too. A big one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took down a big one that would hold a gallon or more, from
-the roof. He blew it up, his cheeks puffing ahead of the wine-skin,
-and stood on the bota holding on to a chair.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you going to do? Sell them in Bayonne?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Drink out of them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He slapped me on the back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good man. Eight pesetas for the two. The lowest price.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The man who was stencilling the new ones and tossing them
-into a pile stopped.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s true,” he said. “Eight pesetas is cheap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I paid and went out and along the street back to the wine-shop.
-It was darker than ever inside and very crowded. I did not see
-Brett and Bill, and some one said they were in the back room. At
-the counter the girl filled the two wine-skins for me. One held
-<span class='pageno' title='157' id='Page_157'></span>
-two litres. The other held five litres. Filling them both cost three
-pesetas sixty centimos. Some one at the counter, that I had never
-seen before, tried to pay for the wine, but I finally paid for it myself.
-The man who had wanted to pay then bought me a drink.
-He would not let me buy one in return, but said he would take a
-rinse of the mouth from the new wine-bag. He tipped the big
-five-litre bag up and squeezed it so the wine hissed against the
-back of his throat.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” he said, and handed back the bag.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the back room Brett and Bill were sitting on barrels surrounded
-by the dancers. Everybody had his arms on everybody
-else’s shoulders, and they were all singing. Mike was sitting at a
-table with several men in their shirt-sleeves, eating from a bowl of
-tuna fish, chopped onions and vinegar. They were all drinking
-wine and mopping up the oil and vinegar with pieces of bread.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Jake. Hello!” Mike called. “Come here. I want you to
-meet my friends. We’re all having an hors-d’œuvre.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was introduced to the people at the table. They supplied their
-names to Mike and sent for a fork for me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Stop eating their dinner, Michael,” Brett shouted from the
-wine-barrels.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t want to eat up your meal,” I said when some one
-handed me a fork.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eat,” he said. “What do you think it’s here for?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I unscrewed the nozzle of the big wine-bottle and handed it
-around. Every one took a drink, tipping the wine-skin at arm’s
-length.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside, above the singing, we could hear the music of the
-procession going by.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t that the procession?” Mike asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nada,” some one said. “It’s nothing. Drink up. Lift the bottle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did they find you?” I asked Mike.
-<span class='pageno' title='158' id='Page_158'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some one brought me here,” Mike said. “They said you were
-here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s Cohn?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s passed out,” Brett called. “They’ve put him away somewhere.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where is he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How should we know,” Bill said. “I think he’s dead.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s not dead,” Mike said. “I know he’s not dead. He’s just
-passed out on Anis del Mono.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he said Anis del Mono one of the men at the table looked
-up, brought out a bottle from inside his smock, and handed it
-to me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “No, thanks!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Yes. Arriba! Up with the bottle!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I took a drink. It tasted of licorice and warmed all the way. I
-could feel it warming in my stomach.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where the hell is Cohn?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” Mike said. “I’ll ask. Where is the drunken comrade?”
-he asked in Spanish.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You want to see him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not me,” said Mike. “This gent.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Anis del Mono man wiped his mouth and stood up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In a back room Robert Cohn was sleeping quietly on some
-wine-casks. It was almost too dark to see his face. They had covered
-him with a coat and another coat was folded under his
-head. Around his neck and on his chest was a big wreath of
-twisted garlics.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let him sleep,” the man whispered. “He’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Two hours later Cohn appeared. He came into the front room
-<span class='pageno' title='159' id='Page_159'></span>
-still with the wreath of garlics around his neck. The Spaniards
-shouted when he came in. Cohn wiped his eyes and grinned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I must have been sleeping,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, not at all,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were only dead,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t we going to go and have some supper?” Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you want to eat?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Why not? I’m hungry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eat those garlics, Robert,” Mike said. “I say. Do eat those
-garlics.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn stood there. His sleep had made him quite all right.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do let’s go and eat,” Brett said. “I must get a bath.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” Bill said. “Let’s translate Brett to the hotel.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We said good-bye to many people and shook hands with many
-people and went out. Outside it was dark.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What time is it do you suppose?” Cohn asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s to-morrow,” Mike said. “You’ve been asleep two days.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Cohn, “what time is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s ten o’clock.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a lot we’ve drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mean what a lot <span class='it'>we’ve</span> drunk. You went to sleep.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Going down the dark streets to the hotel we saw the sky-rockets
-going up in the square. Down the side streets that led to
-the square we saw the square solid with people, those in the
-centre all dancing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a big meal at the hotel. It was the first meal of the prices
-being doubled for the fiesta, and there were several new courses.
-After the dinner we were out in the town. I remember resolving
-that I would stay up all night to watch the bulls go through the
-streets at six o’clock in the morning, and being so sleepy that I
-went to bed around four o’clock. The others stayed up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>My own room was locked and I could not find the key, so I
-went up-stairs and slept on one of the beds in Cohn’s room.
-<span class='pageno' title='160' id='Page_160'></span>
-The fiesta was going on outside in the night, but I was too sleepy
-for it to keep me awake. When I woke it was the sound of the
-rocket exploding that announced the release of the bulls from
-the corrals at the edge of town. They would race through the
-streets and out to the bull-ring. I had been sleeping heavily and
-I woke feeling I was too late. I put on a coat of Cohn’s and went
-out on the balcony. Down below the narrow street was empty.
-All the balconies were crowded with people. Suddenly a crowd
-came down the street. They were all running, packed close together.
-They passed along and up the street toward the bull-ring
-and behind them came more men running faster, and then some
-stragglers who were really running. Behind them was a little
-bare space, and then the bulls galloping, tossing their heads up
-and down. It all went out of sight around the corner. One man
-fell, rolled to the gutter, and lay quiet. But the bulls went right
-on and did not notice him. They were all running together.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After they went out of sight a great roar came from the bull-ring.
-It kept on. Then finally the pop of the rocket that meant
-the bulls had gotten through the people in the ring and into the
-corrals. I went back in the room and got into bed. I had been
-standing on the stone balcony in bare feet. I knew our crowd
-must have all been out at the bull-ring. Back in bed, I went to
-sleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn woke me when he came in. He started to undress and
-went over and closed the window because the people on the balcony
-of the house just across the street were looking in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you see the show?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. We were all there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anybody get hurt?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One of the bulls got into the crowd in the ring and tossed six
-or eight people.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How did Brett like it?”
-<span class='pageno' title='161' id='Page_161'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was all so sudden there wasn’t any time for it to bother
-anybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish I’d been up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We didn’t know where you were. We went to your room but
-it was locked.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you stay up?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We danced at some club.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I got sleepy,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My gosh! I’m sleepy now,” Cohn said. “Doesn’t this thing ever
-stop?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not for a week.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill opened the door and put his head in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where were you, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I saw them go through from the balcony. How was it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Grand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where you going?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To sleep.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>No one was up before noon. We ate at tables set out under
-the arcade. The town was full of people. We had to wait for a
-table. After lunch we went over to the Iruña. It had filled up, and
-as the time for the bull-fight came it got fuller, and the tables
-were crowded closer. There was a close, crowded hum that came
-every day before the bull-fight. The café did not make this same
-noise at any other time, no matter how crowded it was. This hum
-went on, and we were in it and a part of it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I had taken six seats for all the fights. Three of them were barreras,
-the first row at the ring-side, and three were sobrepuertos,
-seats with wooden backs, half-way up the amphitheatre. Mike
-thought Brett had best sit high up for her first time, and Cohn
-wanted to sit with them. Bill and I were going to sit in the barreras,
-and I gave the extra ticket to a waiter to sell. Bill said
-something to Cohn about what to do and how to look so he would
-not mind the horses. Bill had seen one season of bull-fights.
-<span class='pageno' title='162' id='Page_162'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not worried about how I’ll stand it. I’m only afraid I may
-be bored,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You think so?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t look at the horses, after the bull hits them,” I said to
-Brett. “Watch the charge and see the picador try and keep the
-bull off, but then don’t look again until the horse is dead if it’s
-been hit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m a little nervy about it,” Brett said. “I’m worried whether
-I’ll be able to go through with it all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll be all right. There’s nothing but that horse part that
-will bother you, and they’re only in for a few minutes with each
-bull. Just don’t watch when it’s bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’ll be all right,” Mike said. “I’ll look after her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think you’ll be bored,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going over to the hotel to get the glasses and the wine-skin,”
-I said. “See you back here. Don’t get cock-eyed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll come along,” Bill said. Brett smiled at us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked around through the arcade to avoid the heat of the
-square.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That Cohn gets me,” Bill said. “He’s got this Jewish superiority
-so strong that he thinks the only emotion he’ll get out of the fight
-will be being bored.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll watch him with the glasses,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, to hell with him!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He spends a lot of time there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want him to stay there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the hotel on the stairs we met Montoya.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” said Montoya. “Do you want to meet Pedro Romero?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine,” said Bill. “Let’s go see him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We followed Montoya up a flight and down the corridor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s in room number eight,” Montoya explained. “He’s getting
-dressed for the bull-fight.”
-<span class='pageno' title='163' id='Page_163'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya knocked on the door and opened it. It was a gloomy
-room with a little light coming in from the window on the narrow
-street. There were two beds separated by a monastic partition.
-The electric light was on. The boy stood very straight and
-unsmiling in his bull-fighting clothes. His jacket hung over the
-back of a chair. They were just finishing winding his sash. His
-black hair shone under the electric light. He wore a white linen
-shirt and the sword-handler finished his sash and stood up and
-stepped back. Pedro Romero nodded, seeming very far away
-and dignified when we shook hands. Montoya said something
-about what great aficionados we were, and that we wanted to
-wish him luck. Romero listened very seriously. Then he turned
-to me. He was the best-looking boy I have ever seen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You go to the bull-fight,” he said in English.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know English,” I said, feeling like an idiot.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” he answered, and smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One of three men who had been sitting on the beds came up
-and asked us if we spoke French. “Would you like me to interpret
-for you? Is there anything you would like to ask Pedro
-Romero?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We thanked him. What was there that you would like to ask?
-The boy was nineteen years old, alone except for his sword-handler,
-and the three hangers-on, and the bull-fight was to commence
-in twenty minutes. We wished him “Mucha suerte,” shook
-hands, and went out. He was standing, straight and handsome
-and altogether by himself, alone in the room with the hangers-on
-as we shut the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a fine boy, don’t you think so?” Montoya asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a good-looking kid,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He looks like a torero,” Montoya said. “He has the type.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a fine boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll see how he is in the ring,” Montoya said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We found the big leather wine-bottle leaning against the wall
-<span class='pageno' title='164' id='Page_164'></span>
-in my room, took it and the field-glasses, locked the door, and
-went down-stairs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a good bull-fight. Bill and I were very excited about
-Pedro Romero. Montoya was sitting about ten places away. After
-Romero had killed his first bull Montoya caught my eye and
-nodded his head. This was a real one. There had not been a real
-one for a long time. Of the other two matadors, one was very fair
-and the other was passable. But there was no comparison with
-Romero, although neither of his bulls was much.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Several times during the bull-fight I looked up at Mike and
-Brett and Cohn, with the glasses. They seemed to be all right.
-Brett did not look upset. All three were leaning forward on the
-concrete railing in front of them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let me take the glasses,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does Cohn look bored?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That kike!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside the ring, after the bull-fight was over, you could not
-move in the crowd. We could not make our way through but had
-to be moved with the whole thing, slowly, as a glacier, back to
-town. We had that disturbed emotional feeling that always comes
-after a bull-fight, and the feeling of elation that comes after a
-good bull-fight. The fiesta was going on. The drums pounded and
-the pipe music was shrill, and everywhere the flow of the crowd
-was broken by patches of dancers. The dancers were in a crowd,
-so you did not see the intricate play of the feet. All you saw was
-the heads and shoulders going up and down, up and down. Finally,
-we got out of the crowd and made for the café. The waiter
-saved chairs for the others, and we each ordered an absinthe and
-watched the crowd in the square and the dancers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you suppose that dance is?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a sort of jota.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re not all the same,” Bill said. “They dance differently
-to all the different tunes.”
-<span class='pageno' title='165' id='Page_165'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s swell dancing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In front of us on a clear part of the street a company of boys
-were dancing. The steps were very intricate and their faces were
-intent and concentrated. They all looked down while they
-danced. Their rope-soled shoes tapped and spatted on the pavement.
-The toes touched. The heels touched. The balls of the feet
-touched. Then the music broke wildly and the step was finished
-and they were all dancing on up the street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here come the gentry,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were crossing the street</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, men,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, gents!” said Brett. “You saved us seats? How nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say,” Mike said, “that Romero what’shisname is somebody.
-Am I wrong?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, isn’t he lovely,” Brett said. “And those green trousers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett never took her eyes off them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, I must borrow your glasses to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How did it go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderfully! Simply perfect. I say, it is a spectacle!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How about the horses?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I couldn’t help looking at them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She couldn’t take her eyes off them,” Mike said. “She’s an
-extraordinary wench.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They do have some rather awful things happen to them,” Brett
-said. “I couldn’t look away, though.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you feel all right?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t feel badly at all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Robert Cohn did,” Mike put in. “You were quite green,
-Robert.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The first horse did bother me,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You weren’t bored, were you?” asked Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I wasn’t bored. I wish you’d forgive me that.”
-<span class='pageno' title='166' id='Page_166'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s all right,” Bill said, “so long as you weren’t bored.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He didn’t look bored,” Mike said. “I thought he was going to
-be sick.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never felt that bad. It was just for a minute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought he was going to be sick. You weren’t bored, were
-you, Robert?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let up on that, Mike. I said I was sorry I said it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was, you know. He was positively green.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, shove it along, Michael.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You mustn’t ever get bored at your first bull-fight, Robert,”
-Mike said. “It might make such a mess.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, shove it along, Michael,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He said Brett was a sadist,” Mike said. “Brett’s not a sadist.
-She’s just a lovely, healthy wench.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you a sadist, Brett?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hope not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He said Brett was a sadist just because she has a good,
-healthy stomach.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t be healthy long.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill got Mike started on something else than Cohn. The waiter
-brought the absinthe glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did you really like it?” Bill asked Cohn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I can’t say I liked it. I think it’s a wonderful show.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Gad, yes! What a spectacle!” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish they didn’t have the horse part,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re not important,” Bill said. “After a while you never
-notice anything disgusting.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a bit strong just at the start,” Brett said. “There’s a dreadful
-moment for me just when the bull starts for the horse.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The bulls were fine,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They were very good,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to sit down below, next time.” Brett drank from her
-glass of absinthe.
-<span class='pageno' title='167' id='Page_167'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She wants to see the bull-fighters close by,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They are something,” Brett said. “That Romero lad is just a
-child.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s a damned good-looking boy,” I said. “When we were up
-in his room I never saw a better-looking kid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How old do you suppose he is?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nineteen or twenty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just imagine it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bull-fight on the second day was much better than on the
-first. Brett sat between Mike and me at the barrera, and Bill and
-Cohn went up above. Romero was the whole show. I do not think
-Brett saw any other bull-fighter. No one else did either, except
-the hard-shelled technicians. It was all Romero. There were two
-other matadors, but they did not count. I sat beside Brett and explained
-to Brett what it was all about. I told her about watching
-the bull, not the horse, when the bulls charged the picadors,
-and got her to watching the picador place the point of his pic so
-that she saw what it was all about, so that it became more something
-that was going on with a definite end, and less of a spectacle
-with unexplained horrors. I had her watch how Romero took
-the bull away from a fallen horse with his cape, and how he held
-him with the cape and turned him, smoothly and suavely, never
-wasting the bull. She saw how Romero avoided every brusque
-movement and saved his bulls for the last when he wanted
-them, not winded and discomposed but smoothly worn down. She
-saw how close Romero always worked to the bull, and I pointed
-out to her the tricks the other bull-fighters used to make it look
-as though they were working closely. She saw why she liked
-Romero’s cape-work and why she did not like the others.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero never made any contortions, always it was straight and
-pure and natural in line. The others twisted themselves like corkscrews,
-their elbows raised, and leaned against the flanks of the
-bull after his horns had passed, to give a faked look of danger.
-<span class='pageno' title='168' id='Page_168'></span>
-Afterward, all that was faked turned bad and gave an unpleasant
-feeling. Romero’s bull-fighting gave real emotion, because he
-kept the absolute purity of line in his movements and always
-quietly and calmly let the horns pass him close each time. He did
-not have to emphasize their closeness. Brett saw how something
-that was beautiful done close to the bull was ridiculous if it were
-done a little way off. I told her how since the death of Joselito
-all the bull-fighters had been developing a technic that simulated
-this appearance of danger in order to give a fake emotional
-feeling, while the bull-fighter was really safe. Romero had the
-old thing, the holding of his purity of line through the maximum
-of exposure, while he dominated the bull by making him realize
-he was unattainable, while he prepared him for the killing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve never seen him do an awkward thing,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You won’t until he gets frightened,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’ll never be frightened,” Mike said. “He knows too damned
-much.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He knew everything when he started. The others can’t ever
-learn what he was born with.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And God, what looks,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I believe, you know, that she’s falling in love with this bull-fighter
-chap,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t be surprised.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be a good chap, Jake. Don’t tell her anything more about him.
-Tell her how they beat their old mothers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me what drunks they are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, frightful,” Mike said. “Drunk all day and spend all their
-time beating their poor old mothers.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He looks that way,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Doesn’t he?” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They had hitched the mules to the dead bull and then the
-whips cracked, the men ran, and the mules, straining forward,
-their legs pushing, broke into a gallop, and the bull, one horn up,
-<span class='pageno' title='169' id='Page_169'></span>
-his head on its side, swept a swath smoothly across the sand and
-out the red gate.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This next is the last one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not really,” Brett said. She leaned forward on the barrera.
-Romero waved his picadors to their places, then stood, his cape
-against his chest, looking across the ring to where the bull would
-come out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After it was over we went out and were pressed tight in the
-crowd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“These bull-fights are hell on one,” Brett said. “I’m limp as a
-rag.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you’ll get a drink,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The next day Pedro Romero did not fight. It was Miura bulls,
-and a very bad bull-fight. The next day there was no bull-fight
-scheduled. But all day and all night the fiesta kept on.
-<span class='pageno' title='170' id='Page_170'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>16</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>In the morning it was raining. A fog had come over the mountains
-from the sea. You could not see the tops of the mountains.
-The plateau was dull and gloomy, and the shapes of the trees and
-the houses were changed. I walked out beyond the town to look
-at the weather. The bad weather was coming over the mountains
-from the sea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The flags in the square hung wet from the white poles and the
-banners were wet and hung damp against the front of the houses,
-and in between the steady drizzle the rain came down and drove
-every one under the arcades and made pools of water in the
-square, and the streets wet and dark and deserted; yet the fiesta
-kept up without any pause. It was only driven under cover.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The covered seats of the bull-ring had been crowded with people
-sitting out of the rain watching the concourse of Basque and
-Navarrais dancers and singers, and afterward the Val Carlos
-dancers in their costumes danced down the street in the rain, the
-drums sounding hollow and damp, and the chiefs of the bands
-<span class='pageno' title='171' id='Page_171'></span>
-riding ahead on their big, heavy-footed horses, their costumes
-wet, the horses’ coats wet in the rain. The crowd was in the cafés
-and the dancers came in, too, and sat, their tight-wound white legs
-under the tables, shaking the water from their belled caps, and
-spreading their red and purple jackets over the chairs to dry. It
-was raining hard outside.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I left the crowd in the café and went over to the hotel to get
-shaved for dinner. I was shaving in my room when there was a
-knock on the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come in,” I called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya walked in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How are you?” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No bulls to-day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said, “nothing but rain.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where are your friends?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Over at the Iruña.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya smiled his embarrassed smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look,” he said. “Do you know the American ambassador?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “Everybody knows the American ambassador.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s here in town, now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “Everybody’s seen them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve seen them, too,” Montoya said. He didn’t say anything. I
-went on shaving.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down,” I said. “Let me send for a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I have to go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I finished shaving and put my face down into the bowl and
-washed it with cold water. Montoya was standing there looking
-more embarrassed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look,” he said. “I’ve just had a message from them at the
-Grand Hotel that they want Pedro Romero and Marcial Lalanda
-to come over for coffee to-night after dinner.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “it can’t hurt Marcial any.”
-<span class='pageno' title='172' id='Page_172'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Marcial has been in San Sebastian all day. He drove over in a
-car this morning with Marquez. I don’t think they’ll be back to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya stood embarrassed. He wanted me to say something.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t give Romero the message,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You think so?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Absolutely.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya was very pleased.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wanted to ask you because you were an American,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s what I’d do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look,” said Montoya. “People take a boy like that. They don’t
-know what he’s worth. They don’t know what he means. Any
-foreigner can flatter him. They start this Grand Hotel business,
-and in one year they’re through.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Like Algabeno,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, like Algabeno.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re a fine lot,” I said. “There’s one American woman down
-here now that collects bull-fighters.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know. They only want the young ones.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “The old ones get fat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Or crazy like Gallo.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “it’s easy. All you have to do is not give him the
-message.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s such a fine boy,” said Montoya. “He ought to stay with
-his own people. He shouldn’t mix in that stuff.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t you have a drink?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Montoya, “I have to go.” He went out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went down-stairs and out the door and took a walk around
-through the arcades around the square. It was still raining. I
-looked in at the Iruña for the gang and they were not there, so I
-walked on around the square and back to the hotel. They were
-eating dinner in the down-stairs dining-room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were well ahead of me and it was no use trying to catch
-<span class='pageno' title='173' id='Page_173'></span>
-them. Bill was buying shoe-shines for Mike. Bootblacks opened
-the street door and each one Bill called over and started to work
-on Mike.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is the eleventh time my boots have been polished,” Mike
-said. “I say, Bill is an ass.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bootblacks had evidently spread the report. Another came
-in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Limpia botas?” he said to Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Bill. “For this Señor.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bootblack knelt down beside the one at work and started
-on Mike’s free shoe that shone already in the electric light.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bill’s a yell of laughter,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was drinking red wine, and so far behind them that I felt a
-little uncomfortable about all this shoe-shining. I looked around
-the room. At the next table was Pedro Romero. He stood up when
-I nodded, and asked me to come over and meet a friend. His
-table was beside ours, almost touching. I met the friend, a Madrid
-bull-fight critic, a little man with a drawn face. I told Romero
-how much I liked his work, and he was very pleased. We talked
-Spanish and the critic knew a little French. I reached to our table
-for my wine-bottle, but the critic took my arm. Romero laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Drink here,” he said in English.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was very bashful about his English, but he was really very
-pleased with it, and as we went on talking he brought out words
-he was not sure of, and asked me about them. He was anxious to
-know the English for <span class='it'>Corrida de toros</span>, the exact translation. Bull-fight
-he was suspicious of. I explained that bull-fight in Spanish
-was the <span class='it'>lidia</span> of a <span class='it'>toro</span>. The Spanish word <span class='it'>corrida</span> means in English
-the running of bulls—the French translation is <span class='it'>Course de
-taureaux</span>. The critic put that in. There is no Spanish word for
-bull-fight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Pedro Romero said he had learned a little English in Gibraltar.
-He was born in Ronda. That is not far above Gibraltar. He started
-<span class='pageno' title='174' id='Page_174'></span>
-bull-fighting in Malaga in the bull-fighting school there. He had
-only been at it three years. The bull-fight critic joked him about
-the number of <span class='it'>Malagueño</span> expressions he used. He was nineteen
-years old, he said. His older brother was with him as a banderillero,
-but he did not live in this hotel. He lived in a smaller hotel
-with the other people who worked for Romero. He asked me how
-many times I had seen him in the ring. I told him only three. It
-was really only two, but I did not want to explain after I had
-made the mistake.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you see me the other time? In Madrid?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I lied. I had read the accounts of his two appearances in
-Madrid in the bull-fight papers, so I was all right.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The first or the second time?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The first.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was very bad,” he said. “The second time I was better. You
-remember?” He turned to the critic.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was not at all embarrassed. He talked of his work as something
-altogether apart from himself. There was nothing conceited
-or braggartly about him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like it very much that you like my work,” he said. “But you
-haven’t seen it yet. To-morrow, if I get a good bull, I will try and
-show it to you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When he said this he smiled, anxious that neither the bull-fight
-critic nor I would think he was boasting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am anxious to see it,” the critic said. “I would like to be
-convinced.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He doesn’t like my work much.” Romero turned to me. He was
-serious.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The critic explained that he liked it very much, but that so far
-it had been incomplete.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wait till to-morrow, if a good one comes out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have you seen the bulls for to-morrow?” the critic asked me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. I saw them unloaded.”
-<span class='pageno' title='175' id='Page_175'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Pedro Romero leaned forward.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you think of them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very nice,” I said. “About twenty-six arrobas. Very short horns.
-Haven’t you seen them?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes,” said Romero.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They won’t weigh twenty-six arrobas,” said the critic.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Romero.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’ve got bananas for horns,” the critic said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You call them bananas?” asked Romero. He turned to me and
-smiled. “<span class='it'>You</span> wouldn’t call them bananas?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “They’re horns all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re very short,” said Pedro Romero. “Very, very short.
-Still, they aren’t bananas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, Jake,” Brett called from the next table, “you <span class='it'>have</span> deserted
-us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just temporarily,” I said. “We’re talking bulls.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You <span class='it'>are</span> superior.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him that bulls have no balls,” Mike shouted. He was
-drunk.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero looked at me inquiringly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Drunk,” I said. “Borracho! Muy borracho!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You might introduce your friends,” Brett said. She had not
-stopped looking at Pedro Romero. I asked them if they would like
-to have coffee with us. They both stood up. Romero’s face was
-very brown. He had very nice manners.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I introduced them all around and they started to sit down, but
-there was not enough room, so we all moved over to the big table
-by the wall to have coffee. Mike ordered a bottle of Fundador
-and glasses for everybody. There was a lot of drunken talking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him I think writing is lousy,” Bill said. “Go on, tell him.
-Tell him I’m ashamed of being a writer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Pedro Romero was sitting beside Brett and listening to her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on. Tell him!” Bill said.
-<span class='pageno' title='176' id='Page_176'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero looked up smiling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This gentleman,” I said, “is a writer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero was impressed. “This other one, too,” I said, pointing
-at Cohn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He looks like Villalta,” Romero said, looking at Bill. “Rafael,
-doesn’t he look like Villalta?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t see it,” the critic said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really,” Romero said in Spanish. “He looks a lot like Villalta.
-What does the drunken one do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that why he drinks?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. He’s waiting to marry this lady.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him bulls have no balls!” Mike shouted, very drunk, from
-the other end of the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What does he say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jake,” Mike called. “Tell him bulls have no balls!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You understand?” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was sure he didn’t, so it was all right.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him Brett wants to see him put on those green pants.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pipe down, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him Brett is dying to know how he can get into those
-pants.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pipe down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>During this Romero was fingering his glass and talking with
-Brett. Brett was talking French and he was talking Spanish and a
-little English, and laughing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill was filling the glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him Brett wants to come into——”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, pipe down, Mike, for Christ’s sake!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero looked up smiling. “Pipe down! I know that,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Just then Montoya came into the room. He started to smile at
-<span class='pageno' title='177' id='Page_177'></span>
-me, then he saw Pedro Romero with a big glass of cognac in his
-hand, sitting laughing between me and a woman with bare shoulders,
-at a table full of drunks. He did not even nod.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Montoya went out of the room. Mike was on his feet proposing
-a toast. “Let’s all drink to—” he began. “Pedro Romero,” I said.
-Everybody stood up. Romero took it very seriously, and we
-touched glasses and drank it down, I rushing it a little because
-Mike was trying to make it clear that that was not at all what
-he was going to drink to. But it went off all right, and Pedro
-Romero shook hands with every one and he and the critic went
-out together.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God! he’s a lovely boy,” Brett said. “And how I would love
-to see him get into those clothes. He must use a shoe-horn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I started to tell him,” Mike began. “And Jake kept interrupting
-me. Why do you interrupt me? Do you think you talk Spanish
-better than I do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, shut up, Mike! Nobody interrupted you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I’d like to get this settled.” He turned away from me. “Do
-you think you amount to something, Cohn? Do you think you
-belong here among us? People who are out to have a good time?
-For God’s sake don’t be so noisy, Cohn!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, cut it out, Mike,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you think Brett wants you here? Do you think you add to
-the party? Why don’t you say something?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said all I had to say the other night, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not one of you literary chaps.” Mike stood shakily and
-leaned against the table. “I’m not clever. But I do know when I’m
-not wanted. Why don’t you see when you’re not wanted, Cohn?
-Go away. Go away, for God’s sake. Take that sad Jewish face
-away. Don’t you think I’m right?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” I said. “Let’s all go over to the Iruña.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Don’t you think I’m right? I love that woman.”
-<span class='pageno' title='178' id='Page_178'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t start that again. Do shove it along, Michael,” Brett
-said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you think I’m right, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn still sat at the table. His face had the sallow, yellow look
-it got when he was insulted, but somehow he seemed to be enjoying
-it. The childish, drunken heroics of it. It was his affair with
-a lady of title.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jake,” Mike said. He was almost crying. “You know I’m right.
-Listen, you!” He turned to Cohn: “Go away! Go away now!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I won’t go, Mike,” said Cohn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I’ll make you!” Mike started toward him around the
-table. Cohn stood up and took off his glasses. He stood waiting,
-his face sallow, his hands fairly low, proudly and firmly waiting
-for the assault, ready to do battle for his lady love.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I grabbed Mike. “Come on to the café,” I said. “You can’t hit
-him here in the hotel.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good!” said Mike. “Good idea!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We started off. I looked back as Mike stumbled up the stairs
-and saw Cohn putting his glasses on again. Bill was sitting at the
-table pouring another glass of Fundador. Brett was sitting looking
-straight ahead at nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside on the square it had stopped raining and the moon was
-trying to get through the clouds. There was a wind blowing. The
-military band was playing and the crowd was massed on the far
-side of the square where the fireworks specialist and his son were
-trying to send up fire balloons. A balloon would start up jerkily,
-on a great bias, and be torn by the wind or blown against the
-houses of the square. Some fell into the crowd. The magnesium
-flared and the fireworks exploded and chased about in the crowd.
-There was no one dancing in the square. The gravel was too wet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett came out with Bill and joined us. We stood in the crowd
-and watched Don Manuel Orquito, the fireworks king, standing
-on a little platform, carefully starting the balloons with sticks,
-<span class='pageno' title='179' id='Page_179'></span>
-standing above the heads of the crowd to launch the balloons off
-into the wind. The wind brought them all down, and Don Manuel
-Orquito’s face was sweaty in the light of his complicated fireworks
-that fell into the crowd and charged and chased, sputtering and
-cracking, between the legs of the people. The people shouted
-as each new luminous paper bubble careened, caught fire, and
-fell.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re razzing Don Manuel,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you know he’s Don Manuel?” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“His name’s on the programme. Don Manuel Orquito, the
-pirotecnico of esta ciudad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Globos illuminados,” Mike said. “A collection of globos illuminados.
-That’s what the paper said.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wind blew the band music away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, I wish one would go up,” Brett said. “That Don Manuel
-chap is furious.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s probably worked for weeks fixing them to go off, spelling
-out ‘Hail to San Fermin,’ ” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Globos illuminados,” Mike said. “A bunch of bloody globos
-illuminados.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” said Brett. “We can’t stand here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Her ladyship wants a drink,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How you know things,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Inside, the café was crowded and very noisy. No one noticed
-us come in. We could not find a table. There was a great noise
-going on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside the paseo was going in under the arcade. There were
-some English and Americans from Biarritz in sport clothes scattered
-at the tables. Some of the women stared at the people going
-by with lorgnons. We had acquired, at some time, a friend of
-Bill’s from Biarritz. She was staying with another girl at the Grand
-Hotel. The other girl had a headache and had gone to bed.
-<span class='pageno' title='180' id='Page_180'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here’s the pub,” Mike said. It was the Bar Milano, a small,
-tough bar where you could get food and where they danced in the
-back room. We all sat down at a table and ordered a bottle of
-Fundador. The bar was not full. There was nothing going on.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is a hell of a place,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s too early.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s take the bottle and come back later,” Bill said. “I don’t
-want to sit here on a night like this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go and look at the English,” Mike said. “I love to look at
-the English.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re awful,” Bill said. “Where did they all come from?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They come from Biarritz,” Mike said, “They come to see the
-last day of the quaint little Spanish fiesta.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll festa them,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re an extraordinarily beautiful girl.” Mike turned to Bill’s
-friend. “When did you come here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come off it, Michael.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, she <span class='it'>is</span> a lovely girl. Where have I been? Where have I
-been looking all this while? You’re a lovely thing. <span class='it'>Have</span> we met?
-Come along with me and Bill. We’re going to festa the English.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll festa them,” Bill said, “What the hell are they doing at
-this fiesta?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” Mike said. “Just us three. We’re going to festa the
-bloody English. I hope you’re not English? I’m Scotch. I hate the
-English. I’m going to festa them. Come on, Bill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Through the window we saw them, all three arm in arm, going
-toward the café. Rockets were going up in the square.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to sit here,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll stay with you,” Cohn said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t!” Brett said. “For God’s sake, go off somewhere.
-Can’t you see Jake and I want to talk?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t,” Cohn said. “I thought I’d sit here because I felt a
-little tight.”
-<span class='pageno' title='181' id='Page_181'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a hell of a reason for sitting with any one. If you’re tight,
-go to bed. Go on to bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was I rude enough to him?” Brett asked. Cohn was gone.
-“My God! I’m so sick of him!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He doesn’t add much to the gayety.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He depresses me so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s behaved very badly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned badly. He had a chance to behave so well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s probably waiting just outside the door now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. He would. You know I do know how he feels. He can’t
-believe it didn’t mean anything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nobody else would behave as badly. Oh, I’m so sick of the
-whole thing. And Michael. Michael’s been lovely, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s been damned hard on Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. But he didn’t need to be a swine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everybody behaves badly,” I said. “Give them the proper
-chance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t behave badly.” Brett looked at me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’d be as big an ass as Cohn,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Darling, don’t let’s talk a lot of rot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right. Talk about anything you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be difficult. You’re the only person I’ve got, and I feel
-rather awful to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ve got Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, Mike. Hasn’t he been pretty?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “it’s been damned hard on Mike, having Cohn
-around and seeing him with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t I know it, darling? Please don’t make me feel any worse
-than I do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett was nervous as I had never seen her before. She kept
-looking away from me and looking ahead at the wall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to go for a walk?”
-<span class='pageno' title='182' id='Page_182'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Come on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I corked up the Fundador bottle and gave it to the bartender.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s have one more drink of that,” Brett said. “My nerves are
-rotten.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We each drank a glass of the smooth amontillado brandy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” said Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As we came out the door I saw Cohn walk out from under the
-arcade.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He <span class='it'>was</span> there,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He can’t be away from you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Poor devil!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not sorry for him. I hate him, myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hate him, too,” she shivered. “I hate his damned suffering.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked arm in arm down the side street away from the
-crowd and the lights of the square. The street was dark and wet,
-and we walked along it to the fortifications at the edge of town.
-We passed wine-shops with light coming out from their doors onto
-the black, wet street, and sudden bursts of music.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to go in?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked out across the wet grass and onto the stone wall of
-the fortifications. I spread a newspaper on the stone and Brett sat
-down. Across the plain it was dark, and we could see the mountains.
-The wind was high up and took the clouds across the moon.
-Below us were the dark pits of the fortifications. Behind were the
-trees and the shadow of the cathedral, and the town silhouetted
-against the moon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t feel bad,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel like hell,” Brett said. “Don’t let’s talk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We looked out at the plain. The long lines of trees were dark in
-the moonlight. There were the lights of a car on the road climbing
-the mountain. Up on the top of the mountain we saw the lights
-of the fort. Below to the left was the river. It was high from the
-<span class='pageno' title='183' id='Page_183'></span>
-rain, and black and smooth. Trees were dark along the banks. We
-sat and looked out. Brett stared straight ahead. Suddenly she
-shivered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s cold.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to walk back?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Through the park.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We climbed down. It was clouding over again. In the park it
-was dark under the trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you still love me, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because I’m a goner,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m a goner. I’m mad about the Romero boy. I’m in love with
-him, I think.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t be if I were you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t help it. I’m a goner. It’s tearing me all up inside.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t help it. I’ve never been able to help anything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought to stop it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How can I stop it? I can’t stop things. Feel that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her hand was trembling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m like that all through.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You oughtn’t to do it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t help it. I’m a goner now, anyway. Don’t you see the
-difference?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to do something I really want
-to do. I’ve lost my self-respect.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You don’t have to do that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, darling, don’t be difficult. What do you think it’s meant
-to have that damned Jew about, and Mike the way he’s acted?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t just stay tight all the time.”
-<span class='pageno' title='184' id='Page_184'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, darling, please stay by me. Please stay by me and see me
-through this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t say it’s right. It is right though for me. God knows, I’ve
-never felt such a bitch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you want me to do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” Brett said. “Let’s go and find him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Together we walked down the gravel path in the park in the
-dark, under the trees and then out from under the trees and past
-the gate into the street that led into town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Pedro Romero was in the café. He was at a table with other
-bull-fighters and bull-fight critics. They were smoking cigars.
-When we came in they looked up. Romero smiled and bowed.
-We sat down at a table half-way down the room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ask him to come over and have a drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not yet. He’ll come over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can’t look at him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s nice to look at,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve always done just what I wanted.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do feel such a bitch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My God!” said Brett, “the things a woman goes through.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I do feel such a bitch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I looked across at the table. Pedro Romero smiled. He said
-something to the other people at his table, and stood up. He came
-over to our table. I stood up and we shook hands.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Won’t you have a drink?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You must have a drink with me,” he said. He seated himself,
-asking Brett’s permission without saying anything. He had very
-<span class='pageno' title='185' id='Page_185'></span>
-nice manners. But he kept on smoking his cigar. It went well with
-his face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You like cigars?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. I always smoke cigars.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was part of his system of authority. It made him seem older.
-I noticed his skin. It was clear and smooth and very brown. There
-was a triangular scar on his cheek-bone. I saw he was watching
-Brett. He felt there was something between them. He must have
-felt it when Brett gave him her hand. He was being very careful.
-I think he was sure, but he did not want to make any mistake.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You fight to-morrow?” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he said. “Algabeno was hurt to-day in Madrid. Did you
-hear?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said. “Badly?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing. Here,” he showed his hand. Brett reached out and
-spread the fingers apart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” he said in English, “you tell fortunes?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sometimes. Do you mind?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I like it.” He spread his hand flat on the table. “Tell me I
-live for always, and be a millionaire.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was still very polite, but he was surer of himself. “Look,” he
-said, “do you see any bulls in my hand?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He laughed. His hand was very fine and the wrist was small.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There are thousands of bulls,” Brett said. She was not at all
-nervous now. She looked lovely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good,” Romero laughed. “At a thousand duros apiece,” he said
-to me in Spanish. “Tell me some more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a good hand,” Brett said. “I think he’ll live a long time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say it to me. Not to your friend.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said you’d live a long time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know it,” Romero said. “I’m never going to die.”
-<span class='pageno' title='186' id='Page_186'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I tapped with my finger-tips on the table. Romero saw it. He
-shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Don’t do that. The bulls are my best friends.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I translated to Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You kill your friends?” she asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Always,” he said in English, and laughed. “So they don’t kill
-me.” He looked at her across the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know English well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he said. “Pretty well, sometimes. But I must not let anybody
-know. It would be very bad, a torero who speaks English.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why?” asked Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It would be bad. The people would not like it. Not yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They would not like it. Bull-fighters are not like that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are bull-fighters like?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He laughed and tipped his hat down over his eyes and changed
-the angle of his cigar and the expression of his face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Like at the table,” he said. I glanced over. He had mimicked
-exactly the expression of Nacional. He smiled, his face natural
-again. “No. I must forget English.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t forget it, yet,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He laughed again.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I would like a hat like that,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. I’ll get you one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right. See that you do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I will. I’ll get you one to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I stood up. Romero rose, too.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down,” I said. “I must go and find our friends and bring
-them here.”
-<span class='pageno' title='187' id='Page_187'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He looked at me. It was a final look to ask if it were understood.
-It was understood all right.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down,” Brett said to him. “You must teach me Spanish.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He sat down and looked at her across the table. I went out. The
-hard-eyed people at the bull-fighter table watched me go. It was
-not pleasant. When I came back and looked in the café, twenty
-minutes later, Brett and Pedro Romero were gone. The coffee-glasses
-and our three empty cognac-glasses were on the table. A
-waiter came with a cloth and picked up the glasses and mopped
-off the table.
-<span class='pageno' title='188' id='Page_188'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>17</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>Outside the Bar Milano I found Bill and Mike and Edna. Edna
-was the girl’s name.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ve been thrown out,” Edna said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By the police,” said Mike. “There’s some people in there that
-don’t like me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve kept them out of four fights,” Edna said. “You’ve got to
-help me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill’s face was red.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come back in, Edna,” he said. “Go on in there and dance with
-Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s silly,” Edna said. “There’ll just be another row.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned Biarritz swine,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” Mike said. “After all, it’s a pub. They can’t occupy
-a whole pub.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good old Mike,” Bill said. “Damned English swine come here
-and insult Mike and try and spoil the fiesta.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re so bloody,” Mike said. “I hate the English.”
-<span class='pageno' title='189' id='Page_189'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They can’t insult Mike,” Bill said. “Mike is a swell fellow. They
-can’t insult Mike. I won’t stand it. Who cares if he is a damn
-bankrupt?” His voice broke.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who cares?” Mike said. “I don’t care. Jake doesn’t care. Do
-<span class='it'>you</span> care?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” Edna said. “Are you a bankrupt?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course I am. You don’t care, do you, Bill?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill put his arm around Mike’s shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish to hell I was a bankrupt. I’d show those bastards.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re just English,” Mike said. “It never makes any difference
-what the English say.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The dirty swine,” Bill said. “I’m going to clean them out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bill,” Edna looked at me. “Please don’t go in again, Bill. They’re
-so stupid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s it,” said Mike. “They’re stupid. I knew that was what it
-was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They can’t say things like that about Mike,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you know them?” I asked Mike.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I never saw them. They say they know me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t stand it,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on. Let’s go over to the Suizo,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re a bunch of Edna’s friends from Biarritz,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re simply stupid,” Edna said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One of them’s Charley Blackman, from Chicago,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was never in Chicago,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Edna started to laugh and could not stop.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take me away from here,” she said, “you bankrupts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What kind of a row was it?” I asked Edna. We were walking
-across the square to the Suizo. Bill was gone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know what happened, but some one had the police
-called to keep Mike out of the back room. There were some people
-that had known Mike at Cannes. What’s the matter with
-Mike?”
-<span class='pageno' title='190' id='Page_190'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Probably he owes them money” I said. “That’s what people
-usually get bitter about.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In front of the ticket-booths out in the square there were two
-lines of people waiting. They were sitting on chairs or crouched
-on the ground with blankets and newspapers around them. They
-were waiting for the wickets to open in the morning to buy tickets
-for the bull-fight. The night was clearing and the moon was
-out. Some of the people in the line were sleeping.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the Café Suizo we had just sat down and ordered Fundador
-when Robert Cohn came up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s Brett?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She was with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She must have gone to bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She’s not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know where she is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His face was sallow under the light. He was standing up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me where she is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down,” I said. “I don’t know where she is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The hell you don’t!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can shut your face.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me where Brett is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll not tell you a damn thing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know where she is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If I did I wouldn’t tell you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go to hell, Cohn,” Mike called from the table. “Brett’s
-gone off with the bull-fighter chap. They’re on their honeymoon.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You shut up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go to hell!” Mike said languidly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that where she is?” Cohn turned to me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go to hell!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She was with you. Is that where she is?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go to hell!”
-<span class='pageno' title='191' id='Page_191'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll make you tell me”—he stepped forward—“you damned
-pimp.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I swung at him and he ducked. I saw his face duck sideways in
-the light. He hit me and I sat down on the pavement. As I started
-to get on my feet he hit me twice. I went down backward under
-a table. I tried to get up and felt I did not have any legs. I felt I
-must get on my feet and try and hit him. Mike helped me up.
-Some one poured a carafe of water on my head. Mike had an
-arm around me, and I found I was sitting on a chair. Mike was
-pulling at my ears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, you were cold,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where the hell were you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I was around.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You didn’t want to mix in it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He knocked Mike down, too,” Edna said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He didn’t knock me out,” Mike said. “I just lay there.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does this happen every night at your fiestas?” Edna asked.
-“Wasn’t that Mr. Cohn?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m all right,” I said. “My head’s a little wobbly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There were several waiters and a crowd of people standing
-around.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Vaya!” said Mike. “Get away. Go on.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The waiters moved the people away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was quite a thing to watch,” Edna said. “He must be a
-boxer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish Bill had been here,” Edna said. “I’d like to have seen
-Bill knocked down, too. I’ve always wanted to see Bill knocked
-down. He’s so big.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was hoping he would knock down a waiter,” Mike said, “and
-get arrested. I’d like to see Mr. Robert Cohn in jail.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no,” said Edna. “You don’t mean that.”
-<span class='pageno' title='192' id='Page_192'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do, though,” Mike said. “I’m not one of these chaps likes
-being knocked about. I never play games, even.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mike took a drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never liked to hunt, you know. There was always the danger
-of having a horse fall on you. How do you feel, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re nice,” Edna said to Mike. “Are you really a bankrupt?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m a tremendous bankrupt,” Mike said. “I owe money to
-everybody. Don’t you owe any money?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tons.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I owe everybody money,” Mike said. “I borrowed a hundred
-pesetas from Montoya to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The hell you did,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll pay it back,” Mike said. “I always pay everything back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s why you’re a bankrupt, isn’t it?” Edna said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I stood up. I had heard them talking from a long way away. It
-all seemed like some bad play.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going over to the hotel,” I said. Then I heard them talking
-about me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is he all right?” Edna asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’d better walk with him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m all right,” I said. “Don’t come. I’ll see you all later.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I walked away from the café. They were sitting at the table.
-I looked back at them and at the empty tables. There was a waiter
-sitting at one of the tables with his head in his hands.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Walking across the square to the hotel everything looked new
-and changed. I had never seen the trees before. I had never seen
-the flagpoles before, nor the front of the theatre. It was all different.
-I felt as I felt once coming home from an out-of-town football
-game. I was carrying a suitcase with my football things in it,
-and I walked up the street from the station in the town I had
-lived in all my life and it was all new. They were raking the
-lawns and burning leaves in the road, and I stopped for a long
-<span class='pageno' title='193' id='Page_193'></span>
-time and watched. It was all strange. Then I went on, and my
-feet seemed to be a long way off, and everything seemed to come
-from a long way off, and I could hear my feet walking a great
-distance away. I had been kicked in the head early in the game.
-It was like that crossing the square. It was like that going up the
-stairs in the hotel. Going up the stairs took a long time, and I had
-the feeling that I was carrying my suitcase. There was a light in
-the room. Bill came out and met me in the hall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say,” he said, “go up and see Cohn. He’s been in a jam, and
-he’s asking for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The hell with him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go on. Go on up and see him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I did not want to climb another flight of stairs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you looking at me that way for?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not looking at you. Go on up and see Cohn. He’s in bad
-shape.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were drunk a little while ago,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m drunk now,” Bill said. “But you go up and see Cohn. He
-wants to see you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” I said. It was just a matter of climbing more stairs.
-I went on up the stairs carrying my phantom suitcase. I walked
-down the hall to Cohn’s room. The door was shut and I knocked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Barnes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come in, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I opened the door and went in, and set down my suitcase.
-There was no light in the room. Cohn was lying, face down, on
-the bed in the dark.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t call me Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I stood by the door. It was just like this that I had come home.
-Now it was a hot bath that I needed. A deep, hot bath, to lie
-back in.
-<span class='pageno' title='194' id='Page_194'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Cohn was crying. There he was, face down on the bed, crying.
-He had on a white polo shirt, the kind he’d worn at Princeton.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry, Jake. Please forgive me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Forgive you, hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Please forgive me, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I did not say anything. I stood there by the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was crazy. You must see how it was.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I couldn’t stand it about Brett.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You called me a pimp.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I did not care. I wanted a hot bath. I wanted a hot bath in deep
-water.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know. Please don’t remember it. I was crazy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was crying. His voice was funny. He lay there in his white
-shirt on the bed in the dark. His polo shirt.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going away in the morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He was crying without making any noise.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I just couldn’t stand it about Brett. I’ve been through hell,
-Jake. It’s been simply hell. When I met her down here Brett
-treated me as though I were a perfect stranger. I just couldn’t
-stand it. We lived together at San Sebastian. I suppose you know
-it. I can’t stand it any more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He lay there on the bed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “I’m going to take a bath.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were the only friend I had, and I loved Brett so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “so long.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I guess it isn’t any use,” he said. “I guess it isn’t any damn
-use.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Everything. Please say you forgive me, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” I said. “It’s all right.”
-<span class='pageno' title='195' id='Page_195'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I felt so terribly. I’ve been through such hell, Jake. Now everything’s
-gone. Everything.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “so long. I’ve got to go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He rolled over, sat on the edge of the bed, and then stood up.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, Jake,” he said. “You’ll shake hands, won’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We shook hands. In the dark I could not see his face very well.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” I said, “see you in the morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going away in the morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went out. Cohn was standing in the door of the room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you all right, Jake?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes,” I said. “I’m all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I could not find the bathroom. After a while I found it. There
-was a deep stone tub. I turned on the taps and the water would
-not run. I sat down on the edge of the bath-tub. When I got up
-to go I found I had taken off my shoes. I hunted for them and
-found them and carried them down-stairs. I found my room and
-went inside and undressed and got into bed.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I woke with a headache and the noise of the bands going by
-in the street. I remembered I had promised to take Bill’s friend
-Edna to see the bulls go through the street and into the ring. I
-dressed and went down-stairs and out into the cold early morning.
-People were crossing the square, hurrying toward the bull-ring.
-Across the square were the two lines of men in front of the ticket-booths.
-They were still waiting for the tickets to go on sale at
-seven o’clock. I hurried across the street to the café. The waiter
-told me that my friends had been there and gone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How many were they?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Two gentlemen and a lady.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That was all right. Bill and Mike were with Edna. She had
-been afraid last night they would pass out. That was why I was
-<span class='pageno' title='196' id='Page_196'></span>
-to be sure to take her. I drank the coffee and hurried with the
-other people toward the bull-ring. I was not groggy now. There
-was only a bad headache. Everything looked sharp and clear, and
-the town smelt of the early morning.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The stretch of ground from the edge of the town to the bull-ring
-was muddy. There was a crowd all along the fence that led
-to the ring, and the outside balconies and the top of the bull-ring
-were solid with people. I heard the rocket and I knew I could not
-get into the ring in time to see the bulls come in, so I shoved
-through the crowd to the fence. I was pushed close against the
-planks of the fence. Between the two fences of the runway the
-police were clearing the crowd along. They walked or trotted on
-into the bull-ring. Then people commenced to come running. A
-drunk slipped and fell. Two policemen grabbed him and rushed
-him over to the fence. The crowd were running fast now. There
-was a great shout from the crowd, and putting my head through
-between the boards I saw the bulls just coming out of the street
-into the long running pen. They were going fast and gaining on
-the crowd. Just then another drunk started out from the fence
-with a blouse in his hands. He wanted to do capework with the
-bulls. The two policemen tore out, collared him, one hit him with
-a club, and they dragged him against the fence and stood flattened
-out against the fence as the last of the crowd and the bulls
-went by. There were so many people running ahead of the bulls
-that the mass thickened and slowed up going through the gate
-into the ring, and as the bulls passed, galloping together, heavy,
-muddy-sided, horns swinging, one shot ahead, caught a man in
-the running crowd in the back and lifted him in the air. Both the
-man’s arms were by his sides, his head went back as the horn went
-in, and the bull lifted him and then dropped him. The bull
-picked another man running in front, but the man disappeared
-into the crowd, and the crowd was through the gate and into the
-ring with the bulls behind them. The red door of the ring went
-<span class='pageno' title='197' id='Page_197'></span>
-shut, the crowd on the outside balconies of the bull-ring were
-pressing through to the inside, there was a shout, then another
-shout.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The man who had been gored lay face down in the trampled
-mud. People climbed over the fence, and I could not see the man
-because the crowd was so thick around him. From inside the ring
-came the shouts. Each shout meant a charge by some bull into the
-crowd. You could tell by the degree of intensity in the shout how
-bad a thing it was that was happening. Then the rocket went up
-that meant the steers had gotten the bulls out of the ring and into
-the corrals. I left the fence and started back toward the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Back in the town I went to the café to have a second coffee and
-some buttered toast. The waiters were sweeping out the café and
-mopping off the tables. One came over and took my order.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anything happen at the encierro?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t see it all. One man was badly cogido.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here.” I put one hand on the small of my back and the other
-on my chest, where it looked as though the horn must have come
-through. The waiter nodded his head and swept the crumbs from
-the table with his cloth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Badly cogido,” he said. “All for sport. All for pleasure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He went away and came back with the long-handled coffee
-and milk pots. He poured the milk and coffee. It came out of the
-long spouts in two streams into the big cup. The waiter nodded
-his head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Badly cogido through the back,” he said. He put the pots down
-on the table and sat down in the chair at the table. “A big horn
-wound. All for fun. Just for fun. What do you think of that?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s it. All for fun. Fun, you understand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’re not an aficionado?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Me? What are bulls? Animals. Brute animals.” He stood up
-<span class='pageno' title='198' id='Page_198'></span>
-and put his hand on the small of his back. “Right through the
-back. A cornada right through the back. For fun—you understand.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shook his head and walked away, carrying the coffee-pots.
-Two men were going by in the street. The waiter shouted to
-them. They were grave-looking. One shook his head. “Muerto!” he
-called.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The waiter nodded his head. The two men went on. They
-were on some errand. The waiter came over to my table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You hear? Muerto. Dead. He’s dead. With a horn through
-him. All for morning fun. Es muy flamenco.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not for me,” the waiter said. “No fun in that for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Later in the day we learned that the man who was killed was
-named Vicente Girones, and came from near Tafalla. The next
-day in the paper we read that he was twenty-eight years old, and
-had a farm, a wife, and two children. He had continued to come
-to the fiesta each year after he was married. The next day his
-wife came in from Tafalla to be with the body, and the day after
-there was a service in the chapel of San Fermin, and the coffin
-was carried to the railway-station by members of the dancing
-and drinking society of Tafalla. The drums marched ahead, and
-there was music on the fifes, and behind the men who carried
-the coffin walked the wife and two children.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Behind them
-marched all the members of the dancing and drinking societies of
-Pamplona, Estella, Tafalla, and Sanguesa who could stay over
-for the funeral. The coffin was loaded into the baggage-car of
-the train, and the widow and the two children rode, sitting, all
-three together, in an open third-class railway-carriage. The train
-started with a jerk, and then ran smoothly, going down grade
-around the edge of the plateau and out into the fields of grain
-that blew in the wind on the plain on the way to Tafalla.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bull who killed Vicente Girones was named Bocanegra,
-<span class='pageno' title='199' id='Page_199'></span>
-was Number 118 of the bull-breeding establishment of Sanchez
-Tabemo, and was killed by Pedro Romero as the third bull of that
-same afternoon. His ear was cut by popular acclamation and given
-to Pedro Romero, who, in turn, gave it to Brett, who wrapped
-it in a handkerchief belonging to myself, and left both ear and
-handkerchief, along with a number of Muratti cigarette-stubs,
-shoved far back in the drawer of the bed-table that stood beside
-her bed in the Hotel Montoya, in Pamplona.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Back in the hotel, the night watchman was sitting on a bench
-inside the door. He had been there all night and was very sleepy.
-He stood up as I came in. Three of the waitresses came in at the
-same time. They had been to the morning show at the bull-ring.
-They went up-stairs laughing. I followed them up-stairs and went
-into my room. I took off my shoes and lay down on the bed. The
-window was open onto the balcony and the sunlight was bright
-in the room. I did not feel sleepy. It must have been half past
-three o’clock when I had gone to bed and the bands had waked
-me at six. My jaw was sore on both sides. I felt it with my thumb
-and fingers. That damn Cohn. He should have hit somebody the
-first time he was insulted, and then gone away. He was so sure
-that Brett loved him. He was going to stay, and true love would
-conquer all. Some one knocked on the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was Bill and Mike. They sat down on the bed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some encierro,” Bill said. “Some encierro.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, weren’t you there?” Mike asked. “Ring for some beer,
-Bill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a morning!” Bill said. He mopped off his face. “My
-God! what a morning! And here’s old Jake. Old Jake, the human
-punching-bag.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What happened inside?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good God!” Bill said, “what happened, Mike?”
-<span class='pageno' title='200' id='Page_200'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There were these bulls coming in,” Mike said. “Just ahead of
-them was the crowd, and some chap tripped and brought the
-whole lot of them down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And the bulls all came in right over them,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I heard them yell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was Edna,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Chaps kept coming out and waving their shirts.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One bull went along the barrera and hooked everybody over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They took about twenty chaps to the infirmary,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a morning!” Bill said. “The damn police kept arresting
-chaps that wanted to go and commit suicide with the bulls.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The steers took them in, in the end,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It took about an hour.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was really about a quarter of an hour,” Mike objected.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, go to hell,” Bill said. “You’ve been in the war. It was two
-hours and a half for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s that beer?” Mike asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What did you do with the lovely Edna?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We took her home just now. She’s gone to bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How did she like it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine. We told her it was just like that every morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She was impressed,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She wanted us to go down in the ring, too,” Bill said. “She
-likes action.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I said it wouldn’t be fair to my creditors,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a morning,” Bill said. “And what a night!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’s your jaw, Jake?” Mike asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sore,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why didn’t you hit him with a chair?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can talk,” Mike said. “He’d have knocked you out, too.
-I never saw him hit me. I rather think I saw him just before, and
-<span class='pageno' title='201' id='Page_201'></span>
-then quite suddenly I was sitting down in the street, and Jake
-was lying under a table.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did he go afterward?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here she is,” Mike said. “Here’s the beautiful lady with the
-beer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The chambermaid put the tray with the beer-bottles and
-glasses down on the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now bring up three more bottles,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did Cohn go after he hit me?” I asked Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you know about that?” Mike was opening a beer-bottle.
-He poured the beer into one of the glasses, holding the glass close
-to the bottle.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why he went in and found Brett and the bull-fighter chap in
-the bull-fighter’s room, and then he massacred the poor, bloody
-bull-fighter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What a night!” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He nearly killed the poor, bloody bull-fighter. Then Cohn
-wanted to take Brett away. Wanted to make an honest woman of
-her, I imagine. Damned touching scene.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took a long drink of the beer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He is an ass.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What happened?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett gave him what for. She told him off. I think she was
-rather good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll bet she was,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then Cohn broke down and cried, and wanted to shake hands
-with the bull-fighter fellow. He wanted to shake hands with Brett,
-too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know. He shook hands with me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did he? Well, they weren’t having any of it. The bull-fighter
-<span class='pageno' title='202' id='Page_202'></span>
-fellow was rather good. He didn’t say much, but he kept getting
-up and getting knocked down again. Cohn couldn’t knock him
-out. It must have been damned funny.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did you hear all this?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett. I saw her this morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What happened finally?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It seems the bull-fighter fellow was sitting on the bed. He’d
-been knocked down about fifteen times, and he wanted to fight
-some more. Brett held him and wouldn’t let him get up. He
-was weak, but Brett couldn’t hold him, and he got up. Then Cohn
-said he wouldn’t hit him again. Said he couldn’t do it. Said it
-would be wicked. So the bull-fighter chap sort of rather staggered
-over to him. Cohn went back against the wall.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘So you won’t hit me?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘No,’ said Cohn. ‘I’d be ashamed to.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So the bull-fighter fellow hit him just as hard as he could in
-the face, and then sat down on the floor. He couldn’t get up, Brett
-said. Cohn wanted to pick him up and carry him to the bed. He
-said if Cohn helped him he’d kill him, and he’d kill him anyway
-this morning if Cohn wasn’t out of town. Cohn was crying, and
-Brett had told him off, and he wanted to shake hands. I’ve told
-you that before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell the rest,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It seems the bull-fighter chap was sitting on the floor. He was
-waiting to get strength enough to get up and hit Cohn again.
-Brett wasn’t having any shaking hands, and Cohn was crying
-and telling her how much he loved her, and she was telling him
-not to be a ruddy ass. Then Cohn leaned down to shake hands
-with the bull-fighter fellow. No hard feelings, you know. All for
-forgiveness. And the bull-fighter chap hit him in the face again.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s quite a kid,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He ruined Cohn,” Mike said. “You know I don’t think Cohn
-will ever want to knock people about again.”
-<span class='pageno' title='203' id='Page_203'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When did you see Brett?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This morning. She came in to get some things. She’s looking
-after this Romero lad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He poured out another bottle of beer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett’s rather cut up. But she loves looking after people. That’s
-how we came to go off together. She was looking after me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m rather drunk,” Mike said. “I think I’ll <span class='it'>stay</span> rather drunk.
-This is all awfully amusing, but it’s not too pleasant. It’s not too
-pleasant for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He drank off the beer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I gave Brett what for, you know. I said if she would go about
-with Jews and bull-fighters and such people, she must expect
-trouble.” He leaned forward. “I say, Jake, do you mind if I drink
-that bottle of yours? She’ll bring you another one.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Please,” I said. “I wasn’t drinking it, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mike started to open the bottle. “Would you mind opening it?”
-I pressed up the wire fastener and poured it for him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know,” Mike went on, “Brett was rather good. She’s
-always rather good. I gave her a fearful hiding about Jews and
-bull-fighters, and all those sort of people, and do you know what
-she said: ‘Yes. I’ve had such a hell of a happy life with the British
-aristocracy!’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He took a drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That was rather good. Ashley, chap she got the title from, was
-a sailor, you know. Ninth baronet. When he came home he
-wouldn’t sleep in a bed. Always made Brett sleep on the floor.
-Finally, when he got really bad, he used to tell her he’d kill her.
-Always slept with a loaded service revolver. Brett used to take
-the shells out when he’d gone to sleep. She hasn’t had an absolutely
-happy life. Brett. Damned shame, too. She enjoys things
-so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He stood up. His hand was shaky.
-<span class='pageno' title='204' id='Page_204'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going in the room. Try and get a little sleep.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We go too long without sleep in these fiestas. I’m going to
-start now and get plenty of sleep. Damn bad thing not to get
-sleep. Makes you frightfully nervy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll see you at noon at the Iruña,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mike went out the door. We heard him in the next room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He rang the bell and the chambermaid came and knocked at
-the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bring up half a dozen bottles of beer and a bottle of Fundador,”
-Mike told her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Si, Señorito.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going to bed,” Bill said. “Poor old Mike. I had a hell of a
-row about him last night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where? At that Milano place?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. There was a fellow there that had helped pay Brett and
-Mike out of Cannes, once. He was damned nasty.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know the story.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t. Nobody ought to have a right to say things about
-Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s what makes it bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They oughtn’t to have any right. I wish to hell they didn’t have
-any right. I’m going to bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was anybody killed in the ring?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think so. Just badly hurt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A man was killed outside in the runway.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Was there?” said Bill.
-<span class='pageno' title='205' id='Page_205'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>18</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>At noon we were all at the café. It was crowded. We were eating
-shrimps and drinking beer. The town was crowded. Every street
-was full. Big motor-cars from Biarritz and San Sebastian kept
-driving up and parking around the square. They brought people
-for the bull-fight. Sight-seeing cars came up, too. There was one
-with twenty-five Englishwomen in it. They sat in the big, white
-car and looked through their glasses at the fiesta. The dancers
-were all quite drunk. It was the last day of the fiesta.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The fiesta was solid and unbroken, but the motor-cars and
-tourist-cars made little islands of onlookers. When the cars emptied,
-the onlookers were absorbed into the crowd. You did not
-see them again except as sport clothes, odd-looking at a table
-among the closely packed peasants in black smocks. The fiesta
-absorbed even the Biarritz English so that you did not see them
-unless you passed close to a table. All the time there was music
-in the street. The drums kept on pounding and the pipes were
-going. Inside the cafés men with their hands gripping the table,
-<span class='pageno' title='206' id='Page_206'></span>
-or on each other’s shoulders, were singing the hard-voiced singing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here comes Brett,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I looked and saw her coming through the crowd in the square,
-walking, her head up, as though the fiesta were being staged in
-her honor, and she found it pleasant and amusing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, you chaps!” she said. “I say, I <span class='it'>have</span> a thirst.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get another big beer,” Bill said to the waiter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shrimps?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is Cohn gone?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” Bill said. “He hired a car.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The beer came. Brett started to lift the glass mug and her
-hand shook. She saw it and smiled, and leaned forward and took
-a long sip.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good beer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very good,” I said. I was nervous about Mike. I did not think
-he had slept. He must have been drinking all the time, but he
-seemed to be under control.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I heard Cohn had hurt you, Jake,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. Knocked me out. That was all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I say, he did hurt Pedro Romero,” Brett said. “He hurt him
-most badly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How is he?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’ll be all right. He won’t go out of the room.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Does he look badly?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very. He was really hurt. I told him I wanted to pop out and
-see you chaps for a minute.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is he going to fight?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rather. I’m going with you, if you don’t mind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’s your boy friend?” Mike asked. He had not listened to
-anything that Brett had said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett’s got a bull-fighter,” he said. “She had a Jew named
-Cohn, but he turned out badly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett stood up.
-<span class='pageno' title='207' id='Page_207'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am not going to listen to that sort of rot from you, Michael.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How’s your boy friend?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned well,” Brett said. “Watch him this afternoon.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett’s got a bull-fighter,” Mike said. “A beautiful, bloody bull-fighter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would you mind walking over with me? I want to talk to
-you, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell him all about your bull-fighter,” Mike said. “Oh, to hell
-with your bull-fighter!” He tipped the table so that all the beers
-and the dish of shrimps went over in a crash.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” Brett said. “Let’s get out of this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the crowd crossing the square I said: “How is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not going to see him after lunch until the fight. His people
-come in and dress him. They’re very angry about me, he says.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett was radiant. She was happy. The sun was out and the day
-was bright.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel altogether changed,” Brett said. “You’ve no idea, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anything you want me to do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, just go to the fight with me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll see you at lunch?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I’m eating with him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We were standing under the arcade at the door of the hotel.
-They were carrying tables out and setting them up under the
-arcade.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to take a turn out to the park?” Brett asked. “I don’t
-want to go up yet. I fancy he’s sleeping.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked along past the theatre and out of the square and
-along through the barracks of the fair, moving with the crowd
-between the lines of booths. We came out on a cross-street that
-led to the Paseo de Sarasate. We could see the crowd walking
-there, all the fashionably dressed people. They were making the
-turn at the upper end of the park.
-<span class='pageno' title='208' id='Page_208'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t let’s go there,” Brett said. “I don’t want staring at just
-now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We stood in the sunlight. It was hot and good after the rain
-and the clouds from the sea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hope the wind goes down,” Brett said. “It’s very bad for
-him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So do I.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He says the bulls are all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is that San Fermin’s?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett looked at the yellow wall of the chapel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Where the show started on Sunday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go in. Do you mind? I’d rather like to pray a little for
-him or something.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went in through the heavy leather door that moved very
-lightly. It was dark inside. Many people were praying. You saw
-them as your eyes adjusted themselves to the half-light. We knelt
-at one of the long wooden benches. After a little I felt Brett
-stiffen beside me, and saw she was looking straight ahead.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on,” she whispered throatily. “Let’s get out of here.
-Makes me damned nervous.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside in the hot brightness of the street Brett looked up at
-the tree-tops in the wind. The praying had not been much of a
-success.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t know why I get so nervy in church,” Brett said. “Never
-does me any good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We walked along.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m damned bad for a religious atmosphere,” Brett said. “I’ve
-the wrong type of face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know,” Brett said, “I’m not worried about him at all. I
-just feel happy about him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wish the wind would drop, though.”
-<span class='pageno' title='209' id='Page_209'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s liable to go down by five o’clock.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s hope.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You might pray,” I laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never does me any good. I’ve never gotten anything I prayed
-for. Have you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, rot,” said Brett. “Maybe it works for some people, though.
-You don’t look very religious, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m pretty religious.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, rot,” said Brett. “Don’t start proselyting to-day. To-day’s
-going to be bad enough as it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the first time I had seen her in the old happy, careless
-way since before she went off with Cohn. We were back again
-in front of the hotel. All the tables were set now, and already
-several were filled with people eating.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do look after Mike,” Brett said. “Don’t let him get too bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Your frients haff gone up-stairs,” the German maître d’hôtel
-said in English. He was a continual eavesdropper. Brett turned to
-him:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you, so much. Have you anything else to say?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, <span class='it'>ma’am</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good,” said Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Save us a table for three,” I said to the German. He smiled
-his dirty little pink-and-white smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Iss madam eating here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Den I think a tabul for two will be enuff.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t talk to him,” Brett said. “Mike must have been in bad
-shape,” she said on the stairs. We passed Montoya on the stairs.
-He bowed and did not smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll see you at the café,” Brett said. “Thank you, so much,
-Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had stopped at the floor our rooms were on. She went
-<span class='pageno' title='210' id='Page_210'></span>
-straight down the hall and into Romero’s room. She did not knock.
-She simply opened the door, went in, and closed it behind her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I stood in front of the door of Mike’s room and knocked. There
-was no answer. I tried the knob and it opened. Inside the room
-was in great disorder. All the bags were opened and clothing was
-strewn around. There were empty bottles beside the bed. Mike
-lay on the bed looking like a death mask of himself. He opened
-his eyes and looked at me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, Jake,” he said very slowly. “I’m getting a lit tle sleep.
-I’ve want ed a lit tle sleep for a long time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let me cover you over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I’m quite warm.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t go. I have n’t got ten to sleep yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll sleep, Mike. Don’t worry, boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett’s got a bull-fighter,” Mike said. “But her Jew has gone
-away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He turned his head and looked at me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned good thing, what?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Now go to sleep, Mike. You ought to get some sleep.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m just start ing. I’m go ing to get a lit tle sleep.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He shut his eyes. I went out of the room and turned the door
-to quietly. Bill was in my room reading the paper.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See Mike?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go and eat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t eat down-stairs with that German head waiter. He was
-damned snotty when I was getting Mike up-stairs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He was snotty to us, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go out and eat in the town.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We went down the stairs. On the stairs we passed a girl coming
-up with a covered tray.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There goes Brett’s lunch,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And the kid’s,” I said.
-<span class='pageno' title='211' id='Page_211'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Outside on the terrace under the arcade the German head
-waiter came up. His red cheeks were shiny. He was being polite.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haff a tabul for two for you gentlemen,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Go sit at it,” Bill said. We went on out across the street.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We ate at a restaurant in a side street off the square. They
-were all men eating in the restaurant. It was full of smoke and
-drinking and singing. The food was good and so was the wine. We
-did not talk much. Afterward we went to the café and watched
-the fiesta come to the boiling-point. Brett came over soon after
-lunch. She said she had looked in the room and that Mike was
-asleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When the fiesta boiled over and toward the bull-ring we went
-with the crowd. Brett sat at the ringside between Bill and me.
-Directly below us was the callejon, the passageway between the
-stands and the red fence of the barrera. Behind us the concrete
-stands filled solidly. Out in front, beyond the red fence, the sand
-of the ring was smooth-rolled and yellow. It looked a little heavy
-from the rain, but it was dry in the sun and firm and smooth.
-The sword-handlers and bull-ring servants came down the callejon
-carrying on their shoulders the wicker baskets of fighting capes
-and muletas. They were bloodstained and compactly folded and
-packed in the baskets. The sword-handlers opened the heavy
-leather sword-cases so the red wrapped hilts of the sheaf of swords
-showed as the leather case leaned against the fence. They unfolded
-the dark-stained red flannel of the muletas and fixed batons
-in them to spread the stuff and give the matador something to
-hold. Brett watched it all. She was absorbed in the professional
-details.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s his name stencilled on all the capes and muletas,” she
-said. “Why do they call them muletas?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I wonder if they ever launder them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think so. It might spoil the color.”
-<span class='pageno' title='212' id='Page_212'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The blood must stiffen them,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Funny,” Brett said. “How one doesn’t mind the blood.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Below in the narrow passage of the callejon the sword-handlers
-arranged everything. All the seats were full. Above, all the boxes
-were full. There was not an empty seat except in the President’s
-box. When he came in the fight would start. Across the smooth
-sand, in the high doorway that led into the corrals, the bull-fighters
-were standing, their arms furled in their capes, talking,
-waiting for the signal to march in across the arena. Brett was
-watching them with the glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here, would you like to look?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I looked through the glasses and saw the three matadors. Romero
-was in the centre, Belmonte on his left, Marcial on his
-right. Back of them were their people, and behind the banderilleros,
-back in the passageway and in the open space of the
-corral, I saw the picadors. Romero was wearing a black suit. His
-tricornered hat was low down over his eyes. I could not see his
-face clearly under the hat, but it looked badly marked. He was
-looking straight ahead. Marcial was smoking a cigarette guardedly,
-holding it in his hand. Belmonte looked ahead, his face wan
-and yellow, his long wolf jaw out. He was looking at nothing.
-Neither he nor Romero seemed to have anything in common
-with the others. They were all alone. The President came in; there
-was handclapping above us in the grand stand, and I handed the
-glasses to Brett. There was applause. The music started. Brett
-looked through the glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here, take them,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Through the glasses I saw Belmonte speak to Romero. Marcial
-straightened up and dropped his cigarette, and, looking straight
-ahead, their heads back, their free arms swinging, the three matadors
-walked out. Behind them came all the procession, opening
-out, all striding in step, all the capes furled, everybody with free
-arms swinging, and behind rode the picadors, their pics rising
-<span class='pageno' title='213' id='Page_213'></span>
-like lances. Behind all came the two trains of mules and the bull-ring
-servants. The matadors bowed, holding their hats on, before
-the President’s box, and then came over to the barrera below us.
-Pedro Romero took off his heavy gold-brocaded cape and handed
-it over the fence to his sword-handler. He said something to the
-sword-handler. Close below us we saw Romero’s lips were puffed,
-both eyes were discolored. His face was discolored and swollen.
-The sword-handler took the cape, looked up at Brett, and came
-over to us and handed up the cape.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Spread it out in front of you,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett leaned forward. The cape was heavy and smoothly stiff
-with gold. The sword-handler looked back, shook his head, and
-said something. A man beside me leaned over toward Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He doesn’t want you to spread it,” he said. “You should fold
-it and keep it in your lap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett folded the heavy cape.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero did not look up at us. He was speaking to Belmonte.
-Belmonte had sent his formal cape over to some friends. He
-looked across at them and smiled, his wolf smile that was only
-with the mouth. Romero leaned over the barrera and asked for
-the water-jug. The sword-handler brought it and Romero poured
-water over the percale of his fighting-cape, and then scuffed the
-lower folds in the sand with his slippered foot.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s that for?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To give it weight in the wind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“His face looks bad,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He feels very badly,” Brett said. “He should be in bed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The first bull was Belmonte’s. Belmonte was very good. But
-because he got thirty thousand pesetas and people had stayed in
-line all night to buy tickets to see him, the crowd demanded that
-he should be more than very good. Belmonte’s great attraction is
-working close to the bull. In bull-fighting they speak of the terrain
-of the bull and the terrain of the bull-fighter. As long as a
-<span class='pageno' title='214' id='Page_214'></span>
-bull-fighter stays in his own terrain he is comparatively safe.
-Each time he enters into the terrain of the bull he is in great
-danger. Belmonte, in his best days, worked always in the terrain
-of the bull. This way he gave the sensation of coming tragedy.
-People went to the corrida to see Belmonte, to be given tragic
-sensations, and perhaps to see the death of Belmonte. Fifteen
-years ago they said if you wanted to see Belmonte you should go
-quickly, while he was still alive. Since then he has killed more
-than a thousand bulls. When he retired the legend grew up about
-how his bull-fighting had been, and when he came out of retirement
-the public were disappointed because no real man could
-work as close to the bulls as Belmonte was supposed to have done,
-not, of course, even Belmonte.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Also Belmonte imposed conditions and insisted that his bulls
-should not be too large, nor too dangerously armed with horns,
-and so the element that was necessary to give the sensation of
-tragedy was not there, and the public, who wanted three times
-as much from Belmonte, who was sick with a fistula, as Belmonte
-had ever been able to give, felt defrauded and cheated, and Belmonte’s
-jaw came further out in contempt, and his face turned
-yellower, and he moved with greater difficulty as his pain increased,
-and finally the crowd were actively against him, and he
-was utterly contemptuous and indifferent. He had meant to have
-a great afternoon, and instead it was an afternoon of sneers,
-shouted insults, and finally a volley of cushions and pieces of
-bread and vegetables, thrown down at him in the plaza where
-he had had his greatest triumphs. His jaw only went further out.
-Sometimes he turned to smile that toothed, long-jawed, lipless
-smile when he was called something particularly insulting, and
-always the pain that any movement produced grew stronger
-and stronger, until finally his yellow face was parchment color,
-and after his second bull was dead and the throwing of bread and
-cushions was over, after he had saluted the President with the
-<span class='pageno' title='215' id='Page_215'></span>
-same wolf-jawed smile and contemptuous eyes, and handed his
-sword over the barrera to be wiped, and put back in its case, he
-passed through into the callejon and leaned on the barrera below
-us, his head on his arms, not seeing, not hearing anything, only
-going through his pain. When he looked up, finally, he asked for
-a drink of water. He swallowed a little, rinsed his mouth, spat
-the water, took his cape, and went back into the ring.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Because they were against Belmonte the public were for Romero.
-From the moment he left the barrera and went toward the
-bull they applauded him. Belmonte watched Romero, too,
-watched him always without seeming to. He paid no attention to
-Marcial. Marcial was the sort of thing he knew all about. He had
-come out of retirement to compete with Marcial, knowing it was
-a competition gained in advance. He had expected to compete
-with Marcial and the other stars of the decadence of bull-fighting,
-and he knew that the sincerity of his own bull-fighting
-would be so set off by the false æsthetics of the bull-fighters of the
-decadent period that he would only have to be in the ring. His
-return from retirement had been spoiled by Romero. Romero did
-always, smoothly, calmly, and beautifully, what he, Belmonte,
-could only bring himself to do now sometimes. The crowd felt it,
-even the people from Biarritz, even the American ambassador
-saw it, finally. It was a competition that Belmonte would not
-enter because it would lead only to a bad horn wound or death.
-Belmonte was no longer well enough. He no longer had his greatest
-moments in the bull-ring. He was not sure that there were any
-great moments. Things were not the same and now life only came
-in flashes. He had flashes of the old greatness with his bulls, but
-they were not of value because he had discounted them in advance
-when he had picked the bulls out for their safety, getting
-out of a motor and leaning on a fence, looking over at the herd
-on the ranch of his friend the bull-breeder. So he had two small,
-manageable bulls without much horns, and when he felt the greatness
-<span class='pageno' title='216' id='Page_216'></span>
-again coming, just a little of it through the pain that was
-always with him, it had been discounted and sold in advance, and
-it did not give him a good feeling. It was the greatness, but it
-did not make bull-fighting wonderful to him any more.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Pedro Romero had the greatness. He loved bull-fighting, and
-I think he loved the bulls, and I think he loved Brett. Everything
-of which he could control the locality he did in front of her all
-that afternoon. Never once did he look up. He made it stronger
-that way, and did it for himself, too, as well as for her. Because
-he did not look up to ask if it pleased he did it all for himself
-inside, and it strengthened him, and yet he did it for her, too. But
-he did not do it for her at any loss to himself. He gained by it
-all through the afternoon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His first “quite” was directly below us. The three matadors take
-the bull in turn after each charge he makes at a picador. Belmonte
-was the first. Marcial was the second. Then came Romero.
-The three of them were standing at the left of the horse. The
-picador, his hat down over his eyes, the shaft of his pic angling
-sharply toward the bull, kicked in the spurs and held them and
-with the reins in his left hand walked the horse forward toward
-the bull. The bull was watching. Seemingly he watched the white
-horse, but really he watched the triangular steel point of the pic.
-Romero, watching, saw the bull start to turn his head. He did not
-want to charge. Romero flicked his cape so the color caught the
-bull’s eye. The bull charged with the reflex, charged, and found
-not the flash of color but a white horse, and a man leaned far over
-the horse, shot the steel point of the long hickory shaft into the
-hump of muscle on the bull’s shoulder, and pulled his horse sideways
-as he pivoted on the pic, making a wound, enforcing the
-iron into the bull’s shoulder, making him bleed for Belmonte.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bull did not insist under the iron. He did not really want
-to get at the horse. He turned and the group broke apart and
-Romero was taking him out with his cape. He took him out softly
-<span class='pageno' title='217' id='Page_217'></span>
-and smoothly, and then stopped and, standing squarely in front
-of the bull, offered him the cape. The bull’s tail went up and he
-charged, and Romero moved his arms ahead of the bull, wheeling,
-his feet firmed. The dampened, mud-weighted cape swung
-open and full as a sail fills, and Romero pivoted with it just ahead
-of the bull. At the end of the pass they were facing each other
-again. Romero smiled. The bull wanted it again, and Romero’s
-cape filled again, this time on the other side. Each time he let the
-bull pass so close that the man and the bull and the cape that
-filled and pivoted ahead of the bull were all one sharply etched
-mass. It was all so slow and so controlled. It was as though he were
-rocking the bull to sleep. He made four veronicas like that, and
-finished with a half-veronica that turned his back on the bull and
-came away toward the applause, his hand on his hip, his cape on
-his arm, and the bull watching his back going away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In his own bulls he was perfect. His first bull did not see well.
-After the first two passes with the cape Romero knew exactly how
-bad the vision was impaired. He worked accordingly. It was not
-brilliant bull-fighting. It was only perfect bull-fighting. The crowd
-wanted the bull changed. They made a great row. Nothing very
-fine could happen with a bull that could not see the lures, but
-the President would not order him replaced.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why don’t they change him?” Brett asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’ve paid for him. They don’t want to lose their money.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s hardly fair to Romero.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Watch how he handles a bull that can’t see the color.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s the sort of thing I don’t like to see.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was not nice to watch if you cared anything about the person
-who was doing it. With the bull who could not see the colors of
-the capes, or the scarlet flannel of the muleta, Romero had to
-make the bull consent with his body. He had to get so close that
-the bull saw his body, and would start for it, and then shift the
-bull’s charge to the flannel and finish out the pass in the classic
-<span class='pageno' title='218' id='Page_218'></span>
-manner. The Biarritz crowd did not like it They thought Romero
-was afraid, and that was why he gave that little sidestep each
-time as he transferred the bull’s charge from his own body to the
-flannel. They preferred Belmonte’s imitation of himself or Marcial’s
-imitation of Belmonte. There were three of them in the row
-behind us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s he afraid of the bull for? The bull’s so dumb he only
-goes after the cloth.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s just a young bull-fighter. He hasn’t learned it yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But I thought he was fine with the cape before.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Probably he’s nervous now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Out in the centre of the ring, all alone, Romero was going on
-with the same thing, getting so close that the bull could see him
-plainly, offering the body, offering it again a little closer, the bull
-watching dully, then so close that the bull thought he had him,
-offering again and finally drawing the charge and then, just before
-the horns came, giving the bull the red cloth to follow with at
-little, almost imperceptible, jerk that so offended the critical judgment
-of the Biarritz bull-fight experts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s going to kill now,” I said to Brett. “The bull’s still strong.
-He wouldn’t wear himself out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Out in the centre of the ring Romero profiled in front of the
-bull, drew the sword out from the folds of the muleta, rose on his
-toes, and sighted along the blade. The bull charged as Romero
-charged. Romero’s left hand dropped the muleta over the bull’s
-muzzle to blind him, his left shoulder went forward between the
-horns as the sword went in, and for just an instant he and the
-bull were one, Romero way out over the bull, the right arm extended
-high up to where the hilt of the sword had gone in between
-the bull’s shoulders. Then the figure was broken. There
-was a little jolt as Romero came clear, and then he was standing,
-one hand up, facing the bull, his shirt ripped out from under his
-sleeve, the white blowing in the wind, and the bull, the red sword
-<span class='pageno' title='219' id='Page_219'></span>
-hilt tight between his shoulders, his head going down and his legs
-settling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There he goes,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero was close enough so the bull could see him. His hand
-still up, he spoke to the bull. The bull gathered himself, then his
-head went forward and he went over slowly, then all over, suddenly,
-four feet in the air.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They handed the sword to Romero, and carrying it blade down,
-the muleta in his other hand, he walked over to in front of the
-President’s box, bowed, straightened, and came over to the barrera
-and handed over the sword and muleta.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bad one,” said the sword-handler.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He made me sweat,” said Romero. He wiped off his face. The
-sword-handler handed him the water-jug. Romero wiped his lips.
-It hurt him to drink out of the jug. He did not look up at us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Marcial had a big day. They were still applauding him when
-Romero’s last bull came in. It was the bull that had sprinted out
-and killed the man in the morning running.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>During Romero’s first bull his hurt face had been very noticeable.
-Everything he did showed it. All the concentration of the
-awkwardly delicate working with the bull that could not see well
-brought it out. The fight with Cohn had not touched his spirit
-but his face had been smashed and his body hurt. He was wiping
-all that out now. Each thing that he did with this bull wiped that
-out a little cleaner. It was a good bull, a big bull, and with horns,
-and it turned and recharged easily and surely. He was what
-Romero wanted in bulls.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When he had finished his work with the muleta and was ready
-to kill, the crowd made him go on. They did not want the bull
-killed yet, they did not want it to be over. Romero went on. It
-was like a course in bull-fighting. All the passes he linked up, all
-completed, all slow, templed and smooth. There were no tricks
-and no mystifications. There was no brusqueness. And each pass
-<span class='pageno' title='220' id='Page_220'></span>
-as it reached the summit gave you a sudden ache inside. The
-crowd did not want it ever to be finished.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The bull was squared on all four feet to be killed, and Romero
-killed directly below us. He killed not as he had been forced to
-by the last bull, but as he wanted to. He profiled directly in front
-of the bull, drew the sword out of the folds of the muleta and
-sighted along the blade. The bull watched him. Romero spoke to
-the bull and tapped one of his feet. The bull charged and Romero
-waited for the charge, the muleta held low, sighting along the
-blade, his feet firm. Then without taking a step forward, he became
-one with the bull, the sword was in high between the shoulders,
-the bull had followed the low-swung flannel, that disappeared
-as Romero lurched clear to the left, and it was over. The
-bull tried to go forward, his legs commenced to settle, he swung
-from side to side, hesitated, then went down on his knees, and
-Romero’s older brother leaned forward behind him and drove a
-short knife into the bull’s neck at the base of the horns. The first
-time he missed. He drove the knife in again, and the bull went
-over, twitching and rigid. Romero’s brother, holding the bull’s
-horn in one hand, the knife in the other, looked up at the President’s
-box. Handkerchiefs were waving all over the bull-ring. The
-President looked down from the box and waved his handkerchief.
-The brother cut the notched black ear from the dead bull and
-trotted over with it to Romero. The bull lay heavy and black on
-the sand, his tongue out. Boys were running toward him from all
-parts of the arena, making a little circle around him. They were
-starting to dance around the bull.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Romero took the ear from his brother and held it up toward the
-President. The President bowed and Romero, running to get
-ahead of the crowd, came toward us. He leaned up against the
-barrera and gave the ear to Brett. He nodded his head and
-smiled. The crowd were all about him. Brett held down the cape.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You liked it?” Romero called.
-<span class='pageno' title='221' id='Page_221'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett did not say anything. They looked at each other and
-smiled. Brett had the ear in her hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t get bloody,” Romero said, and grinned. The crowd
-wanted him. Several boys shouted at Brett. The crowd was the
-boys, the dancers, and the drunks. Romero turned and tried to
-get through the crowd. They were all around him trying to lift
-him and put him on their shoulders. He fought and twisted away,
-and started running, in the midst of them, toward the exit. He did
-not want to be carried on people’s shoulders. But they held him
-and lifted him. It was uncomfortable and his legs were spraddled
-and his body was very sore. They were lifting him and all running
-toward the gate. He had his hand on somebody’s shoulder.
-He looked around at us apologetically. The crowd, running, went
-out the gate with him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We all three went back to the hotel. Brett went up-stairs. Bill
-and I sat in the down-stairs dining-room and ate some hard-boiled
-eggs and drank several bottles of beer. Belmonte came down in
-his street clothes with his manager and two other men. They sat
-at the next table and ate. Belmonte ate very little. They were
-leaving on the seven o’clock train for Barcelona. Belmonte wore a
-blue-striped shirt and a dark suit, and ate soft-boiled eggs. The
-others ate a big meal. Belmonte did not talk. He only answered
-questions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill was tired after the bull-fight. So was I. We both took a
-bull-fight very hard. We sat and ate the eggs and I watched Belmonte
-and the people at his table. The men with him were tough-looking
-and businesslike.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on over to the café,” Bill said. “I want an absinthe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the last day of the fiesta. Outside it was beginning to be
-cloudy again. The square was full of people and the fireworks
-experts were making up their set pieces for the night and covering
-them over with beech branches. Boys were watching. We
-passed stands of rockets with long bamboo stems. Outside the
-<span class='pageno' title='222' id='Page_222'></span>
-café there was a great crowd. The music and the dancing were
-going on. The giants and the dwarfs were passing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where’s Edna?” I asked Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We watched the beginning of the evening of the last night of
-the fiesta. The absinthe made everything seem better. I drank it
-without sugar in the dripping glass, and it was pleasantly bitter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel sorry about Cohn,” Bill said. “He had an awful time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, to hell with Cohn,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where do you suppose he went?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Up to Paris.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you suppose he’ll do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, to hell with him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you suppose he’ll do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pick up with his old girl, probably.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who was his old girl?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Somebody named Frances.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had another absinthe.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When do you go back?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After a little while Bill said: “Well, it was a swell fiesta.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said; “something doing all the time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t believe it. It’s like a wonderful nightmare.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” I said. “I’d believe anything. Including nightmares.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter? Feel low?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Low as hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another absinthe. Here, waiter! Another absinthe for this
-señor.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel like hell,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Drink that,” said Bill. “Drink it slow.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was beginning to get dark. The fiesta was going on. I began
-to feel drunk but I did not feel any better.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you feel?”
-<span class='pageno' title='223' id='Page_223'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel like hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have another?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It won’t do any good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Try it. You can’t tell; maybe this is the one that gets it. Hey,
-waiter! Another absinthe for this señor!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I poured the water directly into it and stirred it instead of letting
-it drip. Bill put in a lump of ice. I stirred the ice around with
-a spoon in the brownish, cloudy mixture.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t drink it fast that way. It will make you sick.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I set down the glass. I had not meant to drink it fast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel tight.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sure. Get tight. Get over your damn depression.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I’m tight. Is that what you want?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Sit down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t sit down,” I said. “I’m going over to the hotel.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was very drunk. I was drunker than I ever remembered having
-been. At the hotel I went up-stairs. Brett’s door was open. I
-put my head in the room. Mike was sitting on the bed. He waved
-a bottle.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Jake,” he said. “Come in, Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went in and sat down. The room was unstable unless I looked
-at some fixed point.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brett, you know. She’s gone off with the bull-fighter chap.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. She looked for you to say good-bye. They went on the
-seven o’clock train.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did they?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bad thing to do,” Mike said. “She shouldn’t have done it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”
-<span class='pageno' title='224' id='Page_224'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have a drink? Wait while I ring for some beer.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m drunk,” I said. “I’m going in and lie down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Are you blind? I was blind myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said, “I’m blind.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, bung-o,” Mike said. “Get some sleep, old Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went out the door and into my own room and lay on the bed.
-The bed went sailing off and I sat up in bed and looked at the
-wall to make it stop. Outside in the square the fiesta was going
-on. It did not mean anything. Later Bill and Mike came in to get
-me to go down and eat with them. I pretended to be asleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s asleep. Better let him alone.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s blind as a tick,” Mike said. They went out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I got up and went to the balcony and looked out at the dancing
-in the square. The world was not wheeling any more. It was just
-very clear and bright, and inclined to blur at the edges. I washed,
-brushed my hair. I looked strange to myself in the glass, and went
-down-stairs to the dining-room.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here he is!” said Bill. “Good old Jake! I knew you wouldn’t
-pass out.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello, you old drunk,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I got hungry and woke up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eat some soup,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The three of us sat at the table, and it seemed as though about
-six people were missing.</p>
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='225' id='Page_225'></span></p>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:2em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:2em;'>BOOK III</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='pageno' title='227' id='Page_227'></span></p>
-
-<div><h1>CHAPTER<br/> <span class='sub-head'>19</span></h1></div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>In the morning it was all over. The fiesta was finished. I woke
-about nine o’clock, had a bath, dressed, and went down-stairs.
-The square was empty and there were no people on the streets.
-A few children were picking up rocket-sticks in the square. The
-cafés were just opening and the waiters were carrying out the
-comfortable white wicker chairs and arranging them around the
-marble-topped tables in the shade of the arcade. They were
-sweeping the streets and sprinkling them with a hose.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I sat in one of the wicker chairs and leaned back comfortably.
-The waiter was in no hurry to come. The white-paper announcements
-of the unloading of the bulls and the big schedules of special
-trains were still up on the pillars of the arcade. A waiter
-wearing a blue apron came out with a bucket of water and a
-cloth, and commenced to tear down the notices, pulling the paper
-off in strips and washing and rubbing away the paper that stuck
-to the stone. The fiesta was over.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I drank a coffee and after a while Bill came over. I watched him
-<span class='pageno' title='228' id='Page_228'></span>
-come walking across the square. He sat down at the table and
-ordered a coffee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” he said, “it’s all over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “When do you go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. We better get a car, I think. Aren’t you going
-back to Paris?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. I can stay away another week. I think I’ll go to San Sebastian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I want to get back.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s Mike going to do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s going to Saint Jean de Luz.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s get a car and all go as far as Bayonne. You can get the
-train up from there to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good. Let’s go after lunch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right. I’ll get the car.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We had lunch and paid the bill. Montoya did not come near
-us. One of the maids brought the bill. The car was outside. The
-chauffeur piled and strapped the bags on top of the car and put
-them in beside him in the front seat and we got in. The car went
-out of the square, along through the side streets, out under the
-trees and down the hill and away from Pamplona. It did not seem
-like a very long ride. Mike had a bottle of Fundador. I only took
-a couple of drinks. We came over the mountains and out of Spain
-and down the white roads and through the overfoliaged, wet,
-green, Basque country, and finally into Bayonne. We left Bill’s
-baggage at the station, and he bought a ticket to Paris. His train
-left at seven-ten. We came out of the station. The car was standing
-out in front.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What shall we do about the car?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, bother the car,” Mike said. “Let’s just keep the car with
-us.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right,” Bill said. “Where shall we go?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s go to Biarritz and have a drink.”
-<span class='pageno' title='229' id='Page_229'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Old Mike the spender,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We drove in to Biarritz and left the car outside a very Ritz
-place. We went into the bar and sat on high stools and drank a
-whiskey and soda.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That drink’s mine,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s roll for it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>So we rolled poker dice out of a deep leather dice-cup. Bill was
-out first roll. Mike lost to me and handed the bartender a hundred-franc
-note. The whiskeys were twelve francs apiece. We
-had another round and Mike lost again. Each time he gave the
-bartender a good tip. In a room off the bar there was a good jazz
-band playing. It was a pleasant bar. We had another round. I
-went out on the first roll with four kings. Bill and Mike rolled.
-Mike won the first roll with four jacks. Bill won the second. On
-the final roll Mike had three kings and let them stay. He handed
-the dice-cup to Bill. Bill rattled them and rolled, and there were
-three kings, an ace, and a queen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s yours, Mike,” Bill said. “Old Mike, the gambler.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m so sorry,” Mike said. “I can’t get it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ve no money,” Mike said. “I’m stony. I’ve just twenty francs.
-Here, take twenty francs.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Bill’s face sort of changed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I just had enough to pay Montoya. Damned lucky to have it,
-too.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll cash you a check,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That’s damned nice of you, but you see I can’t write checks.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What are you going to do for money?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, some will come through. I’ve two weeks allowance should
-be here. I can live on tick at this pub in Saint Jean.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you want to do about the car?” Bill asked me. “Do
-you want to keep it on?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It doesn’t make any difference. Seems sort of idiotic.”
-<span class='pageno' title='230' id='Page_230'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come on, let’s have another drink,” Mike said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine. This one is on me,” Bill said. “Has Brett any money?”
-He turned to Mike.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t think so. She put up most of what I gave to old
-Montoya.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She hasn’t any money with her?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t think so. She never has any money. She gets five
-hundred quid a year and pays three hundred and fifty of it in
-interest to Jews.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I suppose they get it at the source,” said Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Quite. They’re not really Jews. We just call them Jews. They’re
-Scotsmen, I believe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hasn’t she any at all with her?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hardly think so. She gave it all to me when she left.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” Bill said, “we might as well have another drink.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Damned good idea,” Mike said. “One never gets anywhere by
-discussing finances.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Bill. Bill and I rolled for the next two rounds. Bill
-lost and paid. We went out to the car.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anywhere you’d like to go, Mike?” Bill asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s take a drive. It might do my credit good. Let’s drive
-about a little.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fine. I’d like to see the coast. Let’s drive down toward Hendaye.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t any credit along the coast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You can’t ever tell,” said Bill.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We drove out along the coast road. There was the green of the
-headlands, the white, red-roofed villas, patches of forest, and the
-ocean very blue with the tide out and the water curling far out
-along the beach. We drove through Saint Jean de Luz and passed
-through villages farther down the coast. Back of the rolling country
-we were going through we saw the mountains we had come
-over from Pamplona. The road went on ahead. Bill looked at his
-<span class='pageno' title='231' id='Page_231'></span>
-watch. It was time for us to go back. He knocked on the glass
-and told the driver to turn around. The driver backed the car out
-into the grass to turn it. In back of us were the woods, below a
-stretch of meadow, then the sea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the hotel where Mike was going to stay in Saint Jean we
-stopped the car and he got out. The chauffeur carried in his bags.
-Mike stood by the side of the car.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good-bye, you chaps,” Mike said. “It was a damned fine
-fiesta.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, Mike,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll see you around,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t worry about money,” Mike said. “You can pay for the
-car, Jake, and I’ll send you my share.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, you chaps. You’ve been damned nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We all shook hands. We waved from the car to Mike. He stood
-in the road watching. We got to Bayonne just before the train
-left. A porter carried Bill’s bags in from the consigne. I went as
-far as the inner gate to the tracks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, fella,” Bill said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, kid!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was swell. I’ve had a swell time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Will you be in Paris?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, I have to sail on the 17th. So long, fella!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So long, old kid!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He went in through the gate to the train. The porter went
-ahead with the bags. I watched the train pull out. Bill was at one
-of the windows. The window passed, the rest of the train passed,
-and the tracks were empty. I went outside to the car.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How much do we owe you?” I asked the driver. The price to
-Bayonne had been fixed at a hundred and fifty pesetas.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Two hundred pesetas.”
-<span class='pageno' title='232' id='Page_232'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How much more will it be if you drive me to San Sebastian
-on your way back?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fifty pesetas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t kid me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thirty-five pesetas.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s not worth it,” I said. “Drive me to the Hotel Panier Fleuri.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the hotel I paid the driver and gave him a tip. The car was
-powdered with dust. I rubbed the rod-case through the dust. It
-seemed the last thing that connected me with Spain and the
-fiesta. The driver put the car in gear and went down the street. I
-watched it turn off to take the road to Spain. I went into the
-hotel and they gave me a room. It was the same room I had slept
-in when Bill and Cohn and I were in Bayonne. That seemed a
-very long time ago. I washed, changed my shirt, and went out in
-the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At a newspaper kiosque I bought a copy of the New York
-<span class='it'>Herald</span> and sat in a café to read it. It felt strange to be in France
-again. There was a safe, suburban feeling. I wished I had gone
-up to Paris with Bill, except that Paris would have meant more
-fiesta-ing. I was through with fiestas for a while. It would be
-quiet in San Sebastian. The season does not open there until
-August. I could get a good hotel room and read and swim. There
-was a fine beach there. There were wonderful trees along the
-promenade above the beach, and there were many children sent
-down with their nurses before the season opened. In the evening
-there would be band concerts under the trees across from the
-Café Marinas. I could sit in the Marinas and listen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How does one eat inside?” I asked the waiter. Inside the café
-was a restaurant.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well. Very well. One eats very well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went in and ate dinner. It was a big meal for France but it
-seemed very carefully apportioned after Spain. I drank a bottle
-<span class='pageno' title='233' id='Page_233'></span>
-of wine for company. It was a Château Margaux. It was pleasant
-to be drinking slowly and to be tasting the wine and to be drinking
-alone. A bottle of wine was good company. Afterward I had
-coffee. The waiter recommended a Basque liqueur called Izzarra.
-He brought in the bottle and poured a liqueur-glass full. He said
-Izzarra was made of the flowers of the Pyrenees. The veritable
-flowers of the Pyrenees. It looked like hair-oil and smelled like
-Italian <span class='it'>strega</span>. I told him to take the flowers of the Pyrenees away
-and bring me a <span class='it'>vieux marc</span>. The <span class='it'>marc</span> was good. I had a second
-<span class='it'>marc</span> after the coffee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The waiter seemed a little offended about the flowers of the
-Pyrenees, so I overtipped him. That made him happy. It felt
-comfortable to be in a country where it is so simple to make
-people happy. You can never tell whether a Spanish waiter will
-thank you. Everything is on such a clear financial basis in France.
-It is the simplest country to live in. No one makes things complicated
-by becoming your friend for any obscure reason. If you
-want people to like you you have only to spend a little money. I
-spent a little money and the waiter liked me. He appreciated my
-valuable qualities. He would be glad to see me back. I would
-dine there again some time and he would be glad to see me, and
-would want me at his table. It would be a sincere liking because
-it would have a sound basis. I was back in France.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Next morning I tipped every one a little too much at the hotel
-to make more friends, and left on the morning train for San Sebastian.
-At the station I did not tip the porter more than I
-should because I did not think I would ever see him again. I only
-wanted a few good French friends in Bayonne to make me welcome
-in case I should come back there again. I knew that if they
-remembered me their friendship would be loyal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At Irun we had to change trains and show passports. I hated to
-leave France. Life was so simple in France. I felt I was a fool to
-be going back into Spain. In Spain you could not tell about anything.
-<span class='pageno' title='234' id='Page_234'></span>
-I felt like a fool to be going back into it, but I stood in line
-with my passport, opened my bags for the customs, bought a
-ticket, went through a gate, climbed onto the train, and after
-forty minutes and eight tunnels I was at San Sebastian.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Even on a hot day San Sebastian has a certain early-morning
-quality. The trees seem as though their leaves were never quite
-dry. The streets feel as though they had just been sprinkled. It is
-always cool and shady on certain streets on the hottest day. I
-went to a hotel in the town where I had stopped before, and
-they gave me a room with a balcony that opened out above the
-roofs of the town. There was a green mountainside beyond the
-roofs.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I unpacked my bags and stacked my books on the table beside
-the head of the bed, put out my shaving things, hung up some
-clothes in the big armoire, and made up a bundle for the laundry.
-Then I took a shower in the bathroom and went down to lunch.
-Spain had not changed to summer-time, so I was early. I set my
-watch again. I had recovered an hour by coming to San Sebastian.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As I went into the dining-room the concierge brought me a
-police bulletin to fill out. I signed it and asked him for two telegraph
-forms, and wrote a message to the Hotel Montoya, telling
-them to forward all mail and telegrams for me to this address. I
-calculated how many days I would be in San Sebastian and then
-wrote out a wire to the office asking them to hold mail, but forward
-all wires for me to San Sebastian for six days. Then I went in
-and had lunch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After lunch I went up to my room, read a while, and went to
-sleep. When I woke it was half past four. I found my swimming-suit,
-wrapped it with a comb in a towel, and went down-stairs
-and walked up the street to the Concha. The tide was about half-way
-out. The beach was smooth and firm, and the sand yellow. I
-went into a bathing-cabin, undressed, put on my suit, and walked
-across the smooth sand to the sea. The sand was warm under bare
-<span class='pageno' title='235' id='Page_235'></span>
-feet. There were quite a few people in the water and on the
-beach. Out beyond where the headlands of the Concha almost
-met to form the harbor there was a white line of breakers and the
-open sea. Although the tide was going out, there were a few slow
-rollers. They came in like undulations in the water, gathered
-weight of water, and then broke smoothly on the warm sand. I
-waded out. The water was cold. As a roller came I dove, swam
-out under water, and came to the surface with all the chill gone. I
-swam out to the raft, pulled myself up, and lay on the hot planks.
-A boy and girl were at the other end. The girl had undone the
-top strap of her bathing-suit and was browning her back. The boy
-lay face downward on the raft and talked to her. She laughed at
-things he said, and turned her brown back in the sun. I lay on
-the raft in the sun until I was dry. Then I tried several dives. I
-dove deep once, swimming down to the bottom. I swam with my
-eyes open and it was green and dark. The raft made a dark
-shadow. I came out of water beside the raft, pulled up, dove once
-more, holding it for length, and then swam ashore. I lay on the
-beach until I was dry, then went into the bathing-cabin, took off
-my suit, sloshed myself with fresh water, and rubbed dry.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I walked around the harbor under the trees to the casino, and
-then up one of the cool streets to the Café Marinas. There was
-an orchestra playing inside the café and I sat out on the terrace
-and enjoyed the fresh coolness in the hot day, and had a glass of
-lemon-juice and shaved ice and then a long whiskey and soda. I
-sat in front of the Marinas for a long time and read and watched
-the people, and listened to the music.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Later when it began to get dark, I walked around the harbor
-and out along the promenade, and finally back to the hotel for
-supper. There was a bicycle-race on, the Tour du Pays Basque,
-and the riders were stopping that night in San Sebastian. In the
-dining-room, at one side, there was a long table of bicycle-riders,
-eating with their trainers and managers. They were all French
-<span class='pageno' title='236' id='Page_236'></span>
-and Belgians, and paid close attention to their meal, but they
-were having a good time. At the head of the table were two good-looking
-French girls, with much Rue du Faubourg Montmartre
-chic. I could not make out whom they belonged to. They all spoke
-in slang at the long table and there were many private jokes and
-some jokes at the far end that were not repeated when the girls
-asked to hear them. The next morning at five o’clock the race
-resumed with the last lap, San Sebastian-Bilbao. The bicycle-riders
-drank much wine, and were burned and browned by the
-sun. They did not take the race seriously except among themselves.
-They had raced among themselves so often that it did not
-make much difference who won. Especially in a foreign country.
-The money could be arranged.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The man who had a matter of two minutes lead in the race
-had an attack of boils, which were very painful. He sat on the
-small of his back. His neck was very red and the blond hairs were
-sunburned. The other riders joked him about his boils. He tapped
-on the table with his fork.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Listen,” he said, “to-morrow my nose is so tight on the handle-bars
-that the only thing touches those boils is a lovely breeze.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One of the girls looked at him down the table, and he grinned
-and turned red. The Spaniards, they said, did not know how to
-pedal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I had coffee out on the terrasse with the team manager of one
-of the big bicycle manufacturers. He said it had been a very
-pleasant race, and would have been worth watching if Bottechia
-had not abandoned it at Pamplona. The dust had been bad, but in
-Spain the roads were better than in France. Bicycle road-racing
-was the only sport in the world, he said. Had I ever followed the
-Tour de France? Only in the papers. The Tour de France was
-the greatest sporting event in the world. Following and organizing
-the road races had made him know France. Few people know
-France. All spring and all summer and all fall he spent on the
-<span class='pageno' title='237' id='Page_237'></span>
-road with bicycle road-racers. Look at the number of motor-cars
-now that followed the riders from town to town in a road race. It
-was a rich country and more <span class='it'>sportif</span> every year. It would be the
-most <span class='it'>sportif</span> country in the world. It was bicycle road-racing did
-it. That and football. He knew France. <span class='it'>La France Sportive.</span> He
-knew road-racing. We had a cognac. After all, though, it wasn’t
-bad to get back to Paris. There is only one Paname. In all the
-world, that is. Paris is the town the most <span class='it'>sportif</span> in the world. Did
-I know the <span class='it'>Chope de Negre</span>? Did I not. I would see him there
-some time. I certainly would. We would drink another <span class='it'>fine</span> together.
-We certainly would. They started at six o’clock less a
-quarter in the morning. Would I be up for the depart? I would
-certainly try to. Would I like him to call me? It was very interesting.
-I would leave a call at the desk. He would not mind calling
-me. I could not let him take the trouble. I would leave a call at
-the desk. We said good-bye until the next morning.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the morning when I awoke the bicycle-riders and their following
-cars had been on the road for three hours. I had coffee
-and the papers in bed and then dressed and took my bathing-suit
-down to the beach. Everything was fresh and cool and damp in
-the early morning. Nurses in uniform and in peasant costume
-walked under the trees with children. The Spanish children were
-beautiful. Some bootblacks sat together under a tree talking to a
-soldier. The soldier had only one arm. The tide was in and there
-was a good breeze and a surf on the beach.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I undressed in one of the bath-cabins, crossed the narrow line
-of beach and went into the water. I swam out, trying to swim
-through the rollers, but having to dive sometimes. Then in the
-quiet water I turned and floated. Floating I saw only the sky, and
-felt the drop and lift of the swells. I swam back to the surf and
-coasted in, face down, on a big roller, then turned and swam,
-trying to keep in the trough and not have a wave break over me.
-It made me tired, swimming in the trough, and I turned and
-<span class='pageno' title='238' id='Page_238'></span>
-swam out to the raft. The water was buoyant and cold. It felt as
-though you could never sink. I swam slowly, it seemed like a long
-swim with the high tide, and then pulled up on the raft and sat,
-dripping, on the boards that were becoming hot in the sun. I
-looked around at the bay, the old town, the casino, the line of
-trees along the promenade, and the big hotels with their white
-porches and gold-lettered names. Off on the right, almost closing
-the harbor, was a green hill with a castle. The raft rocked with
-the motion of the water. On the other side of the narrow gap that
-led into the open sea was another high headland. I thought I
-would like to swim across the bay but I was afraid of cramp.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I sat in the sun and watched the bathers on the beach. They
-looked very small. After a while I stood up, gripped with my
-toes on the edge of the raft as it tipped with my weight, and dove
-cleanly and deeply, to come up through the lightening water,
-blew the salt water out of my head, and swam slowly and steadily
-in to shore.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After I was dressed and had paid for the bath-cabin, I walked
-back to the hotel. The bicycle-racers had left several copies of
-<span class='it'>L’Auto</span> around, and I gathered them up in the reading-room and
-took them out and sat in an easy chair in the sun to read about and
-catch up on French sporting life. While I was sitting there the
-concierge came out with a blue envelope in his hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A telegram for you, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I poked my finger along under the fold that was fastened
-down, spread it open, and read it. It had been forwarded from
-Paris:</p>
-
-<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.8em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>COULD YOU COME HOTEL MONTANA MADRID</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>AM RATHER IN TROUBLE BRETT.</p>
-</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>I tipped the concierge and read the message again. A postman
-was coming along the sidewalk. He turned in the hotel. He had a
-<span class='pageno' title='239' id='Page_239'></span>
-big moustache and looked very military. He came out of the hotel
-again. The concierge was just behind him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here’s another telegram for you, sir.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I opened it. It was forwarded from Pamplona.</p>
-
-<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.8em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>COULD YOU COME HOTEL MONTANA MADRID</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>AM RATHER IN TROUBLE BRETT.</p>
-</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>The concierge stood there waiting for another tip, probably.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What time is there a train for Madrid?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It left at nine this morning. There is a slow train at eleven,
-and the Sud Express at ten to-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Get me a berth on the Sud Express. Do you want the money
-now?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Just as you wish,” he said. “I will have it put on the bill.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Well, that meant San Sebastian all shot to hell. I suppose,
-vaguely, I had expected something of the sort. I saw the concierge
-standing in the doorway.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bring me a telegram form, please.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He brought it and I took out my fountain-pen and printed:</p>
-
-<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.8em;' -->
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>LADY ASHLEY HOTEL MONTANA MADRID</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>ARRIVING SUD EXPRESS TOMORROW LOVE</p>
-<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.8em;'>JAKE.</p>
-</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>That seemed to handle it. That was it. Send a girl off with one
-man. Introduce her to another to go off with him. Now go and
-bring her back. And sign the wire with love. That was it all right.
-I went in to lunch.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I did not sleep much that night on the Sud Express. In the
-morning I had breakfast in the dining-car and watched the rock
-and pine country between Avila and Escorial. I saw the Escorial
-out of the window, gray and long and cold in the sun, and did not
-<span class='pageno' title='240' id='Page_240'></span>
-give a damn about it. I saw Madrid come up over the plain, a
-compact white sky-line on the top of a little cliff away off across
-the sun-hardened country.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Norte station in Madrid is the end of the line. All trains
-finish there. They don’t go on anywhere. Outside were cabs and
-taxis and a line of hotel runners. It was like a country town. I took
-a taxi and we climbed up through the gardens, by the empty
-palace and the unfinished church on the edge of the cliff, and on
-up until we were in the high, hot, modern town. The taxi coasted
-down a smooth street to the Puerta del Sol, and then through the
-traffic and out into the Carrera San Jeronimo. All the shops had
-their awnings down against the heat. The windows on the sunny
-side of the street were shuttered. The taxi stopped at the curb. I
-saw the sign <span style='font-size:smaller'>HOTEL MONTANA</span> on the second floor. The taxi-driver
-carried the bags in and left them by the elevator. I could not
-make the elevator work, so I walked up. On the second floor up
-was a cut brass sign: <span style='font-size:smaller'>HOTEL MONTANA</span>. I rang and no one came to
-the door. I rang again and a maid with a sullen face opened the
-door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is Lady Ashley here?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked at me dully.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is an Englishwoman here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She turned and called some one inside. A very fat woman came
-to the door. Her hair was gray and stiffly oiled in scallops around
-her face. She was short and commanding.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Muy buenos,” I said. “Is there an Englishwoman here? I would
-like to see this English lady.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Muy buenos. Yes, there is a female English. Certainly you can
-see her if she wishes to see you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She wishes to see me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The chica will ask her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is very hot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is very hot in the summer in Madrid.”
-<span class='pageno' title='241' id='Page_241'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And how cold in winter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, it is very cold in winter.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Did I want to stay myself in person in the Hotel Montana?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of that as yet I was undecided, but it would give me pleasure
-if my bags were brought up from the ground floor in order that
-they might not be stolen. Nothing was ever stolen in the Hotel
-Montana. In other fondas, yes. Not here. No. The personages of
-this establishment were rigidly selectioned. I was happy to hear
-it. Nevertheless I would welcome the upbringal of my bags.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The maid came in and said that the female English wanted
-to see the male English now, at once.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good,” I said. “You see. It is as I said.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Clearly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I followed the maid’s back down a long, dark corridor. At the
-end she knocked on a door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hello,” said Brett. “Is it you, Jake?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come in. Come in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I opened the door. The maid closed it after me. Brett was in
-bed. She had just been brushing her hair and held the brush in
-her hand. The room was in that disorder produced only by those
-who have always had servants.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Darling!” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I went over to the bed and put my arms around her. She kissed
-me, and while she kissed me I could feel she was thinking of
-something else. She was trembling in my arms. She felt very small.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Darling! I’ve had such a hell of a time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Tell me about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing to tell. He only left yesterday. I made him go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why didn’t you keep him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. It isn’t the sort of thing one does. I don’t think I
-hurt him any.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You were probably damn good for him.”
-<span class='pageno' title='242' id='Page_242'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He shouldn’t be living with any one. I realized that right
-away.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, hell!” she said, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s never talk
-about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“All right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was rather a knock his being ashamed of me. He was
-ashamed of me for a while, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes. They ragged him about me at the café, I guess. He
-wanted me to grow my hair out. Me, with long hair. I’d look so
-like hell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s funny.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He said it would make me more womanly. I’d look a fright.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What happened?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, he got over that. He wasn’t ashamed of me long.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What was it about being in trouble?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t know whether I could make him go, and I didn’t have
-a sou to go away and leave him. He tried to give me a lot of
-money, you know. I told him I had scads of it. He knew that was
-a lie. I couldn’t take his money, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, let’s not talk about it. There were some funny things,
-though. Do give me a cigarette.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I lit the cigarette.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He learned his English as a waiter in Gib.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He wanted to marry me, finally.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Of course. I can’t even marry Mike.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Maybe he thought that would make him Lord Ashley.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No. It wasn’t that. He really wanted to marry me. So I couldn’t
-go away from him, he said. He wanted to make it sure I could
-<span class='pageno' title='243' id='Page_243'></span>
-never go away from him. After I’d gotten more womanly, of
-course.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You ought to feel set up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I do. I’m all right again. He’s wiped out that damned Cohn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know I’d have lived with him if I hadn’t seen it was bad
-for him. We got along damned well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Outside of your personal appearance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, he’d have gotten used to that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She put out the cigarette.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m thirty-four, you know. I’m not going to be one of these
-bitches that ruins children.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not going to be that way. I feel rather good, you know. I
-feel rather set up.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She looked away. I thought she was looking for another cigarette.
-Then I saw she was crying. I could feel her crying. Shaking
-and crying. She wouldn’t look up. I put my arms around her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t let’s ever talk about it. Please don’t let’s ever talk about
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Dear Brett.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m going back to Mike.” I could feel her crying as I held her
-close. “He’s so damned nice and he’s so awful. He’s my sort of
-thing.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She would not look up. I stroked her hair. I could feel her
-shaking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I won’t be one of those bitches,” she said. “But, oh, Jake,
-please let’s never talk about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We left the Hotel Montana. The woman who ran the hotel
-would not let me pay the bill. The bill had been paid.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well. Let it go,” Brett said. “It doesn’t matter now.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We rode in a taxi down to the Palace Hotel, left the bags,
-<span class='pageno' title='244' id='Page_244'></span>
-arranged for berths on the Sud Express for the night, and went
-into the bar of the hotel for a cocktail. We sat on high stools at
-the bar while the barman shook the Martinis in a large nickelled
-shaker.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s funny what a wonderful gentility you get in the bar of a
-big hotel,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Barmen and jockeys are the only people who are polite any
-more.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No matter how vulgar a hotel is, the bar is always nice.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s odd.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bartenders have always been fine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know,” Brett said, “it’s quite true. He is only nineteen.
-Isn’t it amazing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We touched the two glasses as they stood side by side on the
-bar. They were coldly beaded. Outside the curtained window was
-the summer heat of Madrid.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I like an olive in a Martini,” I said to the barman.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right you are, sir. There you are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I should have asked, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The barman went far enough up the bar so that he would not
-hear our conversation. Brett had sipped from the Martini as it
-stood, on the wood. Then she picked it up. Her hand was steady
-enough to lift it after that first sip.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s good. Isn’t it a nice bar?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They’re all nice bars.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know I didn’t believe it at first. He was born in 1905. I
-was in school in Paris, then. Think of that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Anything you want me to think about it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t be an ass. <span class='it'>Would</span> you buy a lady a drink?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We’ll have two more Martinis.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As they were before, sir?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They were very good.” Brett smiled at him.
-<span class='pageno' title='245' id='Page_245'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you, ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, bung-o,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bung-o!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know,” Brett said, “he’d only been with two women before.
-He never cared about anything but bull-fighting.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He’s got plenty of time.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. He thinks it was me. Not the show in general.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, it was you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes. It was me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought you weren’t going to ever talk about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How can I help it?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You’ll lose it if you talk about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I just talk around it. You know I feel rather damned good,
-Jake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You should.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know it makes one feel rather good deciding not to be a
-bitch.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s sort of what we have instead of God.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Some people have God,” I said. “Quite a lot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He never worked very well with me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Should we have another Martini?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The barman shook up two more Martinis and poured them out
-into fresh glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where will we have lunch?” I asked Brett. The bar was cool.
-You could feel the heat outside through the window.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here?” asked Brett.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s rotten here in the hotel. Do you know a place called
-Botin’s?” I asked the barman.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, sir. Would you like to have me write out the address?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thank you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We lunched up-stairs at Botin’s. It is one of the best restaurants
-in the world. We had roast young suckling pig and drank <span class='it'>rioja</span>
-<span class='pageno' title='246' id='Page_246'></span>
-<span class='it'>alta</span>. Brett did not eat much. She never ate much. I ate a very big
-meal and drank three bottles of <span class='it'>rioja alta</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you feel, Jake?” Brett asked. “My God! what a meal
-you’ve eaten.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel fine. Do you want a dessert?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lord, no.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Brett was smoking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You like to eat, don’t you?” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes.” I said. “I like to do a lot of things.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What do you like to do?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” I said, “I like to do a lot of things. Don’t you want a
-dessert?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You asked me that once,” Brett said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “So I did. Let’s have another bottle of <span class='it'>rioja alta</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s very good.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You haven’t drunk much of it,” I said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have. You haven’t seen.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let’s get two bottles,” I said. The bottles came. I poured a little
-in my glass, then a glass for Brett, then filled my glass. We
-touched glasses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bung-o!” Brett said. I drank my glass and poured out another.
-Brett put her hand on my arm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t get drunk, Jake,” she said. “You don’t have to.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How do you know?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t,” she said. “You’ll be all right.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’m not getting drunk,” I said. “I’m just drinking a little wine.
-I like to drink wine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Don’t get drunk,” she said. “Jake, don’t get drunk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Want to go for a ride?” I said. “Want to ride through the
-town?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Right,” Brett said. “I haven’t seen Madrid. I should see Madrid.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll finish this,” I said.
-<span class='pageno' title='247' id='Page_247'></span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Down-stairs we came out through the first-floor dining-room
-to the street. A waiter went for a taxi. It was hot and bright. Up
-the street was a little square with trees and grass where there were
-taxis parked. A taxi came up the street, the waiter hanging out at
-the side. I tipped him and told the driver where to drive, and
-got in beside Brett. The driver started up the street. I settled back.
-Brett moved close to me. We sat close against each other. I put
-my arm around her and she rested against me comfortably. It was
-very hot and bright, and the houses looked sharply white. We
-turned out onto the Gran Via.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Jake,” Brett said, “we could have had such a damned
-good time together.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He
-raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly pressing Brett against
-me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”</p>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>The End</span></p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div><h1>Transcriber’s Notes</h1></div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Obvious printing errors have been silently corrected.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Inconsistencies in hyphenation, spelling and punctuation have been
-preserved.</p>
-
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-
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