The Blunderer by Patricia Highsmith Page A

old man,” Bill said. “You didn’t have much to drink.”
    â€œYou’re a good egg,” Walter told him.
    But Clara was furious. Walter sat beside her in silence while she drove home—she insisted he wasn’t able to drive—reviling him all the way for his stupidity, his sloth in getting drunk at noon.
    â€œJust because the liquor’s there and nobody stops you from drinking yourself into a stupor!”
    He had had only two drinks, and after a cup of coffee at home he felt thoroughly sober and he acted thoroughly sober, sitting in the big armchair in the living-room, reading the Sunday paper. But Clara continued to harangue him, intermittently. She sat across the room from him, sewing buttons on a white dress.
    â€œYou’re supposed to be a lawyer, an intellectual. I should think you’d find better things to do with your intellect than soak it in alcohol! A few more episodes like today and we’ll be blacklisted by all our friends.”
    Walter looked up at that. “Clara, what is this?” he asked good naturedly. He was debating going up to his study and shutting the door, but often she followed him, accusing him of not being able to take criticism.
    â€œI saw Betty Ireton’s face when you staggered across the lawn. She was disgusted with you!”
    â€œIf you think Betty would be disgusted at seeing somebody a little high you must be out of your mind.”
    â€œYou couldn’t have seen it, anyway, you were drunk!”
    â€œMay I say a few words?” Walter asked, standing up. “You took the trouble to scowl disapproval on the whole gathering today, didn’t you? And to your hostess at that. You’re the one who’s going to get us blacklisted. You’re negative towards everything and everyone.”
    â€œAnd you’re so positive. Sweetness and light!”
    Walter clenched his fists in his pockets and walked a few steps in the room, conscious of a desire to strike her. “I can tell you the Iretons weren’t so fond of you today, and I don’t think they have been for a long time. That goes for a lot of people we know.”
    â€œWhat’re you talking about? You’re a paranoid! I think you’re a psychopathic case, Walter, I really do!”
    â€œI can enumerate them for you!” Walter said more loudly, advancing towards her. “There’s Jon. You can’t bear it if I go fishing with him. There’s Chad who passed out once. There’s the Whitneys before that. Whatever became of the Whitneys? They just drifted off, didn’t they? Mysteriously. And before that Howard Graz. You certainly gave him a hell of a weekend after we invited him here!”
    â€œAll written down and labeled. You must have spent a lot of time preparing this devastating case.”
    â€œWhat else’ve I got to do at night?” Walter said quickly.
    â€œThere we go again. You can’t stay off the subject five minutes, can you?”
    â€œI think I can stay off it permanently. Wouldn’t you like that? Then you can be completely independent of me. You can devote your time exclusively to maneuvering me away from my friends.”
    She began to sew again. “They concern you much more than I do, that’s obvious.”
    â€œI mean,” Walter said, his dry throat rasping. “I can’t be a partner to a negative attitude that’s eventually going to alienate me from every living creature in the world!”
    â€œOh, you’re so concerned with yourself!”
    â€œClara, I want a divorce.”
    She looked up from her sewing with her lips parted. She looked very much as she did whenever he asked her if she minded if he, or they, made an appointment with one of their friends. “I don’t think you meant that,” she said.
    â€œI know you don’t, but I do. It’s not like the time before. I’m not going to believe things can get any better, because