第7章

"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.