GARDEN OF EDEN by Ernest Hemingway

“He must be,” the handsome one said. She had a breathless way of speaking and she blushed again. “We saw you in Nice,” she said to Catherine. “I wanted to speak to you then. I mean ask you.

She can’t blush again, David thought. But she did.

“Who’s going to have their hair cut?” Catherine asked.

“I am,” the handsome one said.

“I am too, stupid,” Nina said.

“You said you weren’t.”

“I changed my mind.”

“I really am,” the handsome one said. “We must go now. Do you come here to this cafe?”

“Sometimes,” Catherine said.

“I hope we’ll see you sometime then,” the handsome one said. “Goodbye and thank you for being so gracious.

The two girls went to their table and Nina called the waiter and they paid and were gone.

“They’re not Italian,” David said. “The one is nice but she could make you nervous blushing.”

“She’s in love with you.”

“Sure. She saw me in Nice.”

“Well I can’t help it if she is with me. It isn’t the first girl that ever was and a lot of good it did them.”

“How about Nina?”

“That bitch,” Catherine said.

“She was a wolf. I suppose it should be amusing.”

“I didn’t think it was amusing,” Catherine said. “I thought it was sad.”

“So did I.”

“We’ll find another cafe,” she said. “They’re gone now anyway.”

‘They were spooky.”

“I know,” she said. “For me too. But the one girl was nice. She had beautiful eyes. Did you see?”

“She was an awful blusher though.”

“I liked her. Didn’t you?”

“I suppose so.”

“People that can’t blush are worthless.”

“Nina blushed once,” David said.

“I could be awfully rude to Nina.”

“It wouldn’t touch her.”

“No. She’s well armored.”

“Do you want another drink before we go home?”

“I don’t need one. But you have one.”

“I don’t need one.

“Have another. You usually have two in the evening. I’ll take a small one to keep company.

“No. Let’s go home.”

In the night he woke and heard the wind high and wild and turned and pulled the sheet over his shoulder and shut his eyes again. He felt her breathing and shut his eyes again. He felt her breathing softly and regularly and then he went back to sleep.

Chapter Eleven

IT WAS THE SECOND DAY of the wind and it had not slackened.

He left the ongoing narrative of their journey where it was to write a story that had come to him four or five days before and had been developing, probably, he thought, in the last two nights while he had slept. He knew it was bad to interrupt any work he was engaged in but he felt confident and sure of how well he was going and he thought he could leave the longer narrative and write the story which he believed he must write now or lose.

The story started with no difficulty as a story does when it is ready to be written and he got past the middle of it and knew he should break off and leave it until the next day. If he could not keep away from it after he had taken a break he would drive through and finish it. But he hoped he could keep away from it and hit it fresh the next day. It was a good story and now he remembered how long he had intended to write it. The story had not come to him in the past few days. His memory had been inaccurate in that. It was the necessity to write it that had come to him. He knew how the story ended now. He had always

known the wind and sand-scoured bones but they were gone now and he was inventing all of it. It was all true now because it happened to him as he wrote and only its bones were dead and scattered and behind him. It started now with the evil in the shamba and he had to write it and he was very well into it.

He was tired and happy from his work when he found Catherine’s note that she had not wanted to disturb him, had gone out and would be back for lunch. He left the room and ordered breakfast and, as he waited for it, Monsieur Aurol, the proprietor, came in and they spoke about the weather. Monsieur Aurol said the wind came this way sometimes. It was not a true mistral, the season guaranteed that, but it would probably blow for three days. The weather was insane now. Monsieur had undoubtedly noticed that. If anyone kept track of it they would know that it had not been normal since the war.

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