Appointment in Samarra - John O'Hara [42]
The music stopped but almost immediately resumed with Can This Be Love? The orchestra was not doing so well with the back-time, and that disturbed Julian, whose ear for jazz was superb. See? said Caroline. What?
I was right. You’re sulking.
For God s sweet sake, I m not sulking. Do you want to know what I was thinking?
Go ahead.
Well, this ll make you mad, I have no doubt, but I was thinking what a lousy band this is. Does that make you sore?
In a way, yes, said Caroline. I was thinking what a foolish economy it is to save money on an orchestra. After all, the most important thing at a dance is the music, isn’t it?
Must I talk about that?
Without the music there would be no dance. It s like playing golf with cheap clubs, or playing tennis with a dollar racket, or bad food. It s like anything cheap. He drew his head back, away from her so he could observe the effect of his words. Now you take a Cadillac
Oh, cut it out, Ju. Please.
Why?
Because I want you to. Because you ought to.
What s the matter? My God, you’re sourball tonight. You ask me not to drink, and I don t drink. You
Oh, yeah?
Well, you asked me not to get tight, and I m not a bit tight. You said I could drink. Let s go outside. I want to talk to you.
No. I don t want to go out.
Why not?
It s too cold, for one thing. And I don t feel like it.
Well, that s the best reason. Does that mean you’re not going to keep our date at intermission?
I don t know. I m not sure. She spoke slowly. He said nothing. Then presently she spoke. All right, she said. I ll go out with you.
They danced to the foyer, broke, and ran to the anonymous sedan nearest the verandah. They got in and she sat with her arms drawn close to her ribs. He lit a cigarette for her. What is the matter, darling? he said. God, I m cold.
Do you want to talk, or are you going to just say how cold you are?
What do you want to talk about? she said. About you. Your attitude. I want to try to find out what s eating you. There isn’t a single thing I ve done tonight that you can find fault with.
Except calling me a horse s ass.
You’re crazy! I didn’t call you that. That was what old What s Iss called Harry Reilly. I said you gave me a pain in the ass, which isn’t quite the same.
All right.
And I said I was sorry, and I am sorry. But that s not the point. We re just quibbling
You mean I am.
Yes, frankly. I do mean that. Oh, Christ! What the hell is it? Please say something. Tell me what s the matter. Bawl me out or do anything you like, but don t sit there freezing like a martyr. Like some kind of a St. Stephen.
What?
St. Stephen was the first martyr. Father Creedon told me that.
My, you kept the talk on a high plane, didn’t you?
Will you for the last time, will you tell me why you have a fig what s the matter?
I m freezing, Julian. I ve got to go in. I shouldn t have come out without a coat.
I ll look around in the other cars and borrow a robe, if you ll stay.
No, I don t think we d better, she said. I m going in. This was a mistake, coming out here.
You had no intention of talking when you came out.
No. I don t suppose I did, but I didn’t want to have a scene on the dance floor.
Have a scene on the dance floor! All right. You can go. I won’t keep you. Just one question. Is there something I ve done? Any one thing that you’re sore about?
No. Not exactly. No. There isn t.
One more question. Maybe I d better not ask it.
Go ahead, she said, with her hand on the door of the sedan. All right: Is there something you ve done? Have you done anything? Have you fallen in love with someone else?
Or necked someone else? she said. Or laid someone else while you were sneaking your drinks in the locker room? No. My attitude, as you call it, comes from something much more subtle than that, Julian, but we won’t