“Hello, young man,” said a voice. “What are you looking so indignant about?”
“Hello, Colonel,” David said and felt suddenly happy. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The Colonel, who had deep blue eyes, sandy hair and a tanned face that looked as though it had been carved out of flint by a tired sculptor who had broken his chisel on it, picked up David’s glass and tasted the marisme no.
“Bring me a bottle of whatever this young man is drinking to that table,” he said to the bartender. “Bring a cold bottle. You don’t need to ice it. Bring it immediately.”
“Yes sir,” said the bartender. “Very good sir.”
“Come along,” the Colonel said to David, leading him to the table in the corner of the room. “You’re looking very well.”
“So are you.”
Colonel John Boyle was wearing a dark blue suit of a cloth that looked stiff but cool and a blue shirt and black tie. “I’m always well,” he said. “Do you want a job?”
“No,” said David.
“Just like that. Don’t even ask what it is,” His voice sounded as though he had hawked it up out of a dusty throat.
The wine came and the waiter filled two glasses and put down saucers of the garlic olives and of hazelnuts.
“No anchovies?” the Colonel asked. “What sort of a fonda is this?”
The bartender smiled and went for the anchovies.
“Excellent wine,” the Colonel said. “First rate. I always hoped your taste would improve. Now why don’t you want a job? You’ve just finished a book.”
6o
“I’m on my honeymoon.”
“Silly expression,” the Colonel said. “I never liked it. It sounds sticky. Why didn’t you say you’ve just been married? It makes no difference. You’d be worthless in any event.”
‘What was the job?”
“No use talking about it now. Who did you marry? Anyone I know?”
“Catherine Hill.”
“Knew her father. Very odd type. Killed himself in a car. His wife too.”
“I never knew them.”
“You never knew him?”
“No.”
“Strange. But perfectly understandable. He’s no loss to you as a father-in-law. The mother was very lonely they say. Stupid way for grown up people to be killed. Where did you meet this girl?”
“In Paris.”
“She has a silly uncle who lives there. He’s really worthless. Do you know him?”
“I’ve seen him at the races.”
“At Longchamps and Auteuil. How could you help it?”
“I didn’t marry her family.”
“Of course not. But you always do. Dead or alive.”
“Not the uncles and aunts.”
“Well anyway, have fun. You know, I liked the book. Has it done well?”
“It’s done pretty well.”
“It moved me very deeply,” the Colonel said. “You’re a decep tive son of a bitch.”
“So are you, John.”
“I hope so,” the Colonel said.
David saw Catherine at the door and stood up. She came over to them and David said, “This is Colonel Boyle.”
“How do you do, my dear?”
Catherine looked at him and smiled and sat down at the table. David watched her and it seemed as though she were holding her breath.
“Are you tired?” David asked.
“I think so.”
“Have a glass of this,” the Colonel said.
“Would it be all right if I had an absinthe?”
“Of course,” David said. “I’ll have one too.”
“Not for me,” the Colonel said to the bartender. “This bottle’s lost its freshness. Put it back to chill and bring me a glass from a cold bottle.”
“Do you like the real Pernod?” he asked Catherine. “Yes,” she said. “I’m shy with people and it helps.” “It’s an excellent drink,” he said. “I’d join you but I have work I must do after lunch.”
“I’m sorry I forgot to make a rendezvous,” David said.
“This is very nice.”
“I stopped by for the mail at the bank. There’s quite a lot for you. I left it in the room.”
“I don’t care about it,” she said.
“I saw you in the Prado looking at the Grecos,” the Colonel said.
“I saw you too,” she said. “Do you always look at pictures as though you owned them and were deciding how to have them re-hung properly?”