U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [230]
-118-dazzled out of her in the glare of his headlights, the strong leap forward of the car on the pickup, the purr of the motor, his arm around her, the great force pressing her against him when they went around curves.
It was a hot night, he drove west through endless iden-tical suburbs out into the prairie. Eveline knew that they ought to go home, everybody was back from Europey now and they'd notice how late she got in, but she didn't say anything. It was only when he stopped the car that she noticed that he was very drunk. He took out a flask and offered her a drink. She shook her head. They'd stopped in front of a white barn. In the reflection of the headlights his shirtfront and his face and his mussed up hair al looked chalky white. "You don't love me, Dirk," she said. "Sure I do, love you better'n anybody . . . except myself . . . that's a'trouble with me . . . love myself best." She rubbed her knuckles through his hair,
"You're pretty sil y, do you know it?""Ouch," he said. It was starting to rain so he turned the car around and made for Chicago.
Eveline never knew exactly where it was they smashed up, only that she was crawling out from under the seat and that her dress was ruined and she wasn't hurt only the rain was streaking the headlights of the cars that stopped along the road on either side of them. Dirk was sitting on the mudguard of the first car that had stopped. "Are you al right, Eveline?" he cal ed shakily. "It's only my dress," she said. He was bleeding from a gash in his forehead and he was holding his arm against his body as if he were cold. Then it was al nightmare, telephoning Dad, getting Dirk to the hospital, dodging the reporters, cal ing up Mr. Mc-Arthur to get him to set to work to keep it out of the morning papers. It was eight o'clock of a hot spring morn-ing when she got home wearing a raincoat one of the nurses had lent her over her ruined evening dress.
The family was al at breakfast. Nobody said anything. Then Dad got to his feet and came forward, with his nap--119-kin in his hand, "My dear, I shan't speak of your behavior now, to say nothing of the pain and mortification you have caused al of us. . . . I can only say it would have served you right if you had sustained serious injuries in such an escapade. Go up and rest if you can." Eveline went up-stairs, doublelocked her door and threw herself sobbing on the bed.
As soon as they could, her mother and sisters hurried her off to Santa F. It was hot and dusty there and she hated it. She couldn't stop thinking of Dirk. She began tel ing people she believed in free love and lay for hours on the bed in her room reading Swinburne and Laurence Hope and dreaming. Dirk was there. She got so she could almost feel the insistent fingers of his hands spread over the smal of her back and his mouth like that night in the crowsnest on the Kroonland. It was a kind of relief when she came down with scarlet fever and had to lie in bed for eight weeks in the isolation wing of the hospital. Every-body sent her flowers and she read a lot of books on de-sign and interior decorating and did watercolors. When she went up to Chicago for Adelaide's wedding in October she had a pale mature look. Eleanor cried out when she kissed her, "My dear, you've grown stunningly handsome." She had one thing on her mind, to see Dirk and get it over with. It was several days before they could arrange to meet because Dad had cal ed him up and for-bidden him to come to the house and they had a scene over the telephone. They met in the lobby of The Drake. She could see at a glance that Dirk had been hitting it up since she'd seen him. He was a little drunk now. He had a sheepish boyish look that made her feel like crying. "Wel , how's Barney Oldfield?" she said, laughing. "Rotten, gee you look stunning, Eveline. . . . Say The Fol ies of 1914 are in town, a big New York hit. . . . I got tickets, do you mind if we go?""No, it'l be bul y." He ordered everything most expensive he could find on
-120-the bil of fare, and champagne. She had something in her throat that kept her