U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [473]
They ran down the back stairs and got into a taxi with their baggage. His was pigskin; hers was shiny black. The bags had a new expensive smel . Charley saw Farrel and Nat come out from under the columns of the big colonial porch but before they could throw the confetti the taxi-driver had stepped on the gas and they were off. At the depot there was nobody but the Wheatleys, Mrs. Wheatley crying in her baggy mink coat, Mr. Wheatley orating about the American home whether anybody lis-tened or not. By the time the train pul ed out Gladys was crying too and Charley was sitting opposite her feeling miserable and not knowing how the hel to begin.
"I wish we'd flown."
"You know it wouldn't have been possible in this weather," said Gladys and then burst out crying again. To have something to do Charley ordered some dinner from the diningcar and sent the colored porter to get a pail of ice for the champagne.
"Oh, my nerves," moaned Gladys, pressing her gloved hands over her eyes.
"After al , kid, it isn't as if it was somebody else. It's just you and me," said Charley gently. She began to titter. "Wel , I guess I'm a little sil y." When the porter grinning and respectful y sympathetic opened the champagne she just wet her lips with it. Char-ley drank off his glass and fil ed it up again. "Here's how, Glad, this is the life." When the porter had gone Charley asked her why she wouldn't drink. "You used to be quite a rummy out at the countryclub, Glad."
"I don't want you to drink either."
"Why?"
She turned very red. "Mother says that if the parents get drunk they have idiot children."
"Oh, you poor baby," said Charley, his eyes fil ing with
-305-tears. They sat for a long time looking at each other while the fizz went out of the champagne in the glasses and the champagne slopped out onto the table with the jolting of the train. When the broiled chicken came Gladys couldn't eat a bite of it. Charley ate both portions and drank up the champagne and felt he was acting like a hog. The train clanked and roared in their ears through the snowy night. After the porter had taken away the supper-dishes Charley took off his coat and sat beside her and tried to make love to her. She'd only let him kiss her and hug her like they'd done before they were married. When he tried to undo her dress she pushed him away. "Wait, wait." She went into the lavatory to get into her nightdress. He thought he'd go crazy she took so long. He sat in his pyjamas in the icy gritty flaw of wind that came in through the crack of the window until his teeth were chattering. At last he started to bang on the door of the toilet. "Anything wrong, Glad? What's the matter, darlin'?" She came out in a fluffy lace negligee. She'd put on too much makeup. Her lips were trembling under the greasy lipstick. "Oh, Charley, don't let's tonight on the train, it's so awful like this."
Charley felt suddenly uncontrol ably angry. "But you're my wife. I'm your husband, God damn it." He switched off the light. Her hands were icy in his. As he grabbed her to him he felt the muscles of his arms swel ing strong behind her slender back. It felt good the way the lace and silk tore under his hands.
Afterwards she made him get out of bed and lie on the couch wrapped in a blanket. She bled a great deal. Neither of them slept. Next day she looked so pale and the bleed-ing hadn't stopped and they were afraid they'd have to stop somewhere to get a doctor. By evening she felt better, but stil she couldn't eat anything. Al afternoon she lay halfasleep on the couch while Charley sat beside her hold--306-ing her hand with a pile of unread magazines on his knees. It was like getting out of jail when they got off the train at Palm Beach and saw the green grass and the palmtrees and the hedges of hibiscus in flower. When she saw the big rooms of their corner suite at the Royal Poinciana, where she'd wanted to go because that was where her father and mother had gone on their weddingtrip, and the flowers friends had sent that fil ed up the parlor, Gladys threw