BOOK TWO
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: āDarling. Very quiet and healthy. Love to all the chaps. BRETT.ā
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 Cohnās 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: āJake, Budapest is wonderful.ā Then I got a wire: āBack on Monday.ā
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.
āWell,ā I said, āI hear you had a wonderful trip.ā
āWonderful,ā he said. āBudapest is absolutely wonderful.ā
āHow about Vienna?ā
āNot so good, Jake. Not so good. It seemed better than it was.ā
āHow do you mean?ā I was getting glasses and a siphon.
āTight, Jake. I was tight.ā
āThatās strange. Better have a drink.ā
Bill rubbed his forehead. āRemarkable thing,ā he said. āDonāt know how it happened. Suddenly it happened.ā
āLast long?ā
āFour days, Jake. Lasted just four days.ā
āWhere did you go?ā
āDonāt remember. Wrote you a post-card. Remember that perfectly.ā
āDo anything else?ā
āNot so sure. Possible.ā
āGo on. Tell me about it.ā
āCanāt remember. Tell you anything I could remember.ā
āGo on. Take that drink and remember.ā
āMight remember a little,ā Bill said. āRemember something about a prize-fight. Enormous Vienna prize-fight. Had a nigger in it. Remember the nigger perfectly.ā
āGo on.ā
āWonderful nigger. Looked like Tiger Flowers, only four times as big. All of a sudden everybody started to throw things. Not me. Niggerād 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. Couldnāt get his clothes. Wore my coat. Remember the whole thing now. Big sporting evening.ā
āWhat happened?ā
āLoaned 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?ā
āProbably it wasnāt you.ā
āYouāre right. Wasnāt me at all. Was another fellow. Think we called him the local Harvard man. Remember him now. Studying music.ā
āHowād you come out?ā
āNot so good, Jake. Injustice everywhere. Promoter claimed nigger promised let local boy stay. Claimed nigger violated contract. Canāt knock out Vienna boy in Vienna. āMy God, Mister Gorton,ā said nigger, āI didnāt 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.ā ā
āDid you get any money?ā
āNo money, Jake. All we could get was niggerās clothes. Somebody took his watch, too. Splendid nigger. Big mistake to have come to Vienna. Not so good, Jake. Not so good.ā
āWhat became of the nigger?ā
āWent 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.ā
āYou probably did.ā
āWell, anyway, letās eat,ā said Bill. āUnless you want me to tell you some more travel stories.ā
āGo on.ā
āLetās eat.ā
We went down-stairs and out onto the Boulevard St. Michel in the warm June evening.
āWhere will we go?ā
āWant to eat on the island?ā
āSure.ā
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.
āI know who they are.ā Bill eyed the monument. āGentlemen who invented pharmacy. Donāt try and fool me on Paris.ā
We went on.
āHereās a taxidermistās,ā Bill said. āWant to buy anything? Nice stuffed dog?ā
āCome on,ā I said. āYouāre pie-eyed.ā
āPretty nice stuffed dogs,ā Bill said. āCertainly brighten up your flat.ā
āCome on.ā
āJust one stuffed dog. I can take āem or leave āem alone. But listen, Jake. Just one stuffed dog.ā
āCome on.ā
āMean everything in the world to you after you bought it. Simple exchange of values. You give them money. They give you a stuffed dog.ā
āWeāll get one on the way back.ā
āAll right. Have it your own way. Road to hell paved with unbought stuffed dogs. Not my fault.ā
We went on.
āHowād you feel that way about dogs so sudden?ā
āAlways felt that way about dogs. Always been a great lover of stuffed animals.ā
We stopped and had a drink.
āCertainly like to drink,ā Bill said. āYou ought to try it some times, Jake.ā
āYouāre about a hundred and forty-four ahead of me.ā
āOught not to daunt you. Never be daunted. Secret of my success. Never been daunted. Never been daunted in public.ā
āWhere were you drinking?ā
āStopped at the Crillon. George made me a couple of Jack Roses. Georgeās a great man. Know the secret of his success? Never been daunted.ā
āYouāll be daunted after about three more pernods.ā
āNot in public. If I begin to feel daunted Iāll go off by myself. Iām like a cat that way.ā
āWhen did you see Harvey Stone?ā
āAt the Crillon. Harvey was just a little daunted. Hadnāt eaten for three days. Doesnāt eat any more. Just goes off like a cat. Pretty sad.ā
āHeās all right.ā
āSplendid. Wish he wouldnāt keep going off like a cat, though. Makes me nervous.ā
āWhatāll we do to-night?ā
āDoesnāt make any difference. Only letās not get daunted. Suppose they got any hard-boiled eggs here? If they had hard-boiled eggs here we wouldnāt have to go all the way down to the island to eat.ā
āNix,ā I said. āWeāre going to have a regular meal.ā
āJust a suggestion,ā said Bill. āWant to start now?ā
āCome on.ā
We started on again down the Boulevard. A horse-cab passed us. Bill looked at it.
āSee that horse-cab? Going to have that horse-cab stuffed for you for Christmas. Going to give all my friends stuffed animals. Iām a nature-writer.ā
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.
āBeautiful lady,ā said Bill. āGoing to kidnap us.ā
āHullo!ā Brett said. āHullo!ā
āThis is Bill Gorton. Lady Ashley.ā
Brett smiled at Bill. āI say Iām just back. Havenāt bathed even. Michael comes in to-night.ā
āGood. Come on and eat with us, and weāll all go to meet him.ā
āMust clean myself.ā
āOh, rot! Come on.ā
āMust bathe. He doesnāt get in till nine.ā
āCome and have a drink, then, before you bathe.ā
āMight do that. Now youāre not talking rot.ā
We got in the taxi. The driver looked around.
āStop at the nearest bistro,ā I said.
āWe might as well go to the Closerie,ā Brett said. āI canāt drink these rotten brandies.ā
āCloserie des Lilas.ā
Brett turned to Bill.
āHave you been in this pestilential city long?ā
āJust got in to-day from Budapest.ā
āHow was Budapest?ā
āWonderful. Budapest was wonderful.ā
āAsk him about Vienna.ā
āVienna,ā said Bill, āis a strange city.ā
āVery much like Paris,ā Brett smiled at him, wrinkling the corners of her eyes.
āExactly,ā Bill said. āVery much like Paris at this moment.ā
āYou have a good start.ā
Sitting out on the terrace of the Lilas Brett ordered a whiskey and soda, I took one, too, and Bill took another pernod.
āHow are you, Jake?ā
āGreat,ā I said. āIāve had a good time.ā
Brett looked at me. āI was a fool to go away,ā she said. āOneās an ass to leave Paris.ā
āDid you have a good time?ā
āOh, all right. Interesting. Not frightfully amusing.ā
āSee anybody?ā
āNo, hardly anybody. I never went out.ā
āDidnāt you swim?ā
āNo. Didnāt do a thing.ā
āSounds like Vienna,ā Bill said.
Brett wrinkled up the corners of her eyes at him.
āSo thatās the way it was in Vienna.ā
āIt was like everything in Vienna.ā
Brett smiled at him again.
āYouāve a nice friend, Jake.ā
āHeās all right,ā I said. āHeās a taxidermist.ā
āThat was in another country,ā Bill said. āAnd besides all the animals were dead.ā
āOne more,ā Brett said, āand I must run. Do send the waiter for a taxi.ā
āThereās a line of them. Right out in front.ā
āGood.ā
We had the drink and put Brett into her taxi.
āMind youāre at the Select around ten. Make him come. Michael will be there.ā
āWeāll be there,ā Bill said. The taxi started and Brett waved.
āQuite a girl,ā Bill said. āSheās damned nice. Whoās Michael?ā
āThe man sheās going to marry.ā
āWell, well,ā Bill said. āThatās always just the stage I meet anybody. Whatāll I send them? Think theyād like a couple of stuffed race-horses?ā
āWe better eat.ā
āIs she really Lady something or other?ā Bill asked in the taxi on our way down to the Ile Saint Louis.
āOh, yes. In the stud-book and everything.ā
āWell, well.ā
We ate dinner at Madame Lecomteās 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 Womenās 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 tabl...