U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [378]
Wesley Everest, but the six loggers they caught they buried in the Wal a Wal a Penitentiary.
RICHARD ELLSWORTH SAVAGE
The pinnacles and buttresses of the apse of Nôtre Dâme looked crumbly as cigarash in the late afternoon sunshine.
"But you've got to stay, Richard," Eleanor was saying as she went about the room col ecting the teathings on a tray for the maid to take out. "I had to do something about Eveline and her husband before they sailed. . . after al , she's one of my oldest friends. . . and I've invited al her wildeyed hangerson to come in afterwards." A fleet of big drays loaded with winebarrels rumbled along the quay outside. Dick was staring out into the grey ash of the afternoon. "Do close that window, Richard, the dust is pouring in. . . . Of course, I realize that you'l have to leave early to go to J.W.'s meeting with the press. . . . If it hadn't been for that he'd have had to come, poor dear, but you know how busy he is."
"Wel , I don't exactly find the time hanging on my hands. . . but I'l stay and greet the happy pair. In the army I'd forgotten about work." He got to his feet and walked back into the room to light a cigarette.
"Wel , you needn't be so mournful about it."
"I don't see you dancing in the streets yourself."
"I think Eveline's made a very grave mistake. . .
-461-Americans are just too incredibly frivolous about marriage." Dick's throat got tight. He found himself noticing how stiffly he put the cigarette to his mouth, inhaled the smoke and blew it out. Eleanor's eyes were on his face, cool and searching. Dick didn't say anything, he tried to keep his face stiff.
"Were you in love with that poor girl, Richard?" Dick blushed and shook his head.
"Wel , you needn't pretend to be so hard about it. . . it's just young to pretend to be hard about things."
"Jilted by army officer, Texas bel e kil ed in plane wreck. . . but most of the correspondents know me and did their best to kil that story. . . . What did you expect me to do, jump into the grave like Hamlet? The Hon. Mr. Barrow did al of that that was necessary. It was a frightful y tough break. . ." He let himself drop into a chair. "I wish I was hard enough so that I didn't give a damn about anything. When history's walking on al our faces is no time for pretty sentiments." He made a funny face and started talking out of the corner of his mouth. "Al I ask sister is to see de woild with Uncle Woodrow. . . le beau monde sans blague tu sais." Eleanor was laughing her little shril laugh when they heard Eveline's and Paul Johnson's voices outside on the landing.
Eleanor had bought them a pair of little blue parakeets in a cage. They drank Montracher and ate roast duck cooked with oranges. In the middle of the meal Dick had to go up to the Cril on. It was a relief to be out in the air, sitting in an open taxi, running past the Louvre made enormous by the late twilight under which the Paris streets seemed empty and very long ago like the Roman forum. Al the way up past the Tuileries he played with an im-pulse to tel the taxidriver to take him to the opera, to the circus, to the fortifications, anywhere to hel and gone.
-462-He set his pokerface as he walked past the doorman at the Cril on. Miss Wil iams gave him a relieved smile when he
appeared in the door. "Oh, I was afraid you'd be late, Captain Savage." Dick shook his head and grinned. "Any-body come?" "Oh, they're coming in swarms. It'l make the front pages," she whispered. Then she had to answer the phone.
The big room was already fil ing up with newspaper
men. Jerry Burnham whispered as he shook hands, "Say, Dick, if it's a typewritten statement you won't leave the room alive.""Don't worry," said Dick with a grin. "Say, where's Robbins?""He's out of the picture," said Dick dryly, "I think he's in Nice drinking up the last of his liver."
J.W. had come in by the other door and was moving
around the room shaking hands with men he knew, being introduced to others. A young fel ow with untidy hair and his necktie crooked put a paper in Dick's hand. "Say, ask him if he'd