The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway [18]
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 he obstinate, darling."
"Oh, sure," I said. "I knowyou'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