“It has been revealed,” the Gran Maestro said.
“I am very proud and happy to be a member of the Order,” the girl said. “But it is, in a way, a rather rough order.”
“It is indeed,” the Colonel said. “And now, Gran Maestro, what do we actually eat; without mysteries?”
“Some crab enchillada, in the style of this town, but cold, first. Served in the shell. Then sole for you, and for my lady a mixed grill. What vegetables?”
“Whatever you have,” the Colonel said.
The Gran Maestro was gone and the Colonel looked at the girl and then at the Grand Canal outside the window, and he saw the magic spots and changes of light that were even here, in the end of the bar, which had now by skillful handling been made into a dining room, and he said, “Did I tell you, daughter, that I love you?”
“You haven’t told me for quite a long time. But I love you.”
“What happens to people that love each other?”
“I suppose they have whatever they have, and they are more fortunate than others. Then one of them gets the emptiness forever.”
“I won’t be rough,” the Colonel said. “I could have made a rough response. But please don’t have any emptiness.”
“I’ll try,” the girl said. “I’ve been trying ever since I woke up. I’ve tried ever since we knew each other.”
“Keep on trying, daughter,” the Colonel said.
Then to the Gran Maestro, who had reappeared, having given his orders, the Colonel said, “A bottle of that vino secco, from Vesuvius, for the small soles. We have the Valpolicella for the other things.”
“Can’t I drink the Vesuvius wine with my mixed grill?” the girl asked.
“Renata, daughter,” the Colonel said. “Of course. You can do anything.”
“I like to drink the same wines as you if I drink wine.”
“Good white wine is good with a mixed grill, at your age,” the Colonel told her.
“I wish there was not such a difference in ages.”
“I like it very much,” the Colonel said. “Except,” he added. Then he did not continue and said, “Let’s be fraîche et rose comme au jour de bataille.”
“Who said that?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I picked it up when I took a course at the Collége des Maréchaux, A rather pretentious title. But I graduated. What I know best I learned from the krauts, studying them and opposing them. They are the best soldiers. But they always over-reach.”
“Let’s be like you said, and please tell me that you love me.”
“I love you,” he said. “That’s what you can base on. I tell you truly.”
“It is Saturday,” she said. “And when is next Saturday?”
“Next Saturday is a movable feast, daughter. Find me a man who can tell me about next Saturday.”
“You could tell me if you would.”
“I’ll ask the Gran Maestro, maybe he knows. Gran Maestro when will next Saturday come?”
“A Paques ou à la Trinité,” the Gran Maestro said.
“Why don’t we have any smells from the kitchen to cheer us up?”
“Because the wind is from the wrong direction.”
Yes, the Colonel thought. The wind is from the wrong direction and how lucky I would have been to have had this girl instead of the woman that I pay alimony to, who could not even make a child. She hired out for that. But who should criticise whose tubes? I only criticize Goodrich or Firestone or General.
Keep it clean, he said to himself. And love your girl.
She was there beside him, wishing to be loved, if he had any love to give.
It came back, as it always had, when he saw her, and he said, “How are you with the crow wing hair and the breakheart face?”
“I’m fine.”
“Gran Maestro,” the Colonel said. “Produce a few smells or something from your off-stage kitchen, even if the wind is against us.”
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE hall porter had telephoned, under the direction of the concierge, and it was the same motor boat that they had ridden in before.
T5 Jackson was in the boat with the luggage, and the portrait, which had been well and sturdily wrapped. It was still blowing hard.