The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway Page B

with water in the kitchen, and Brett put the roses in it, and placed them in the centre of the dining room table.

    â€œI say. We have had a day.”

    â€œYou don’t remember anything about a date with me at the Crillon?”

    â€œNo. Did we have one? I must have been blind.”

    â€œYou were quite drunk, my dear,” said the count.

    â€œWasn’t I, though? And the count’s been a brick, absolutely.”

    â€œYou’ve got hell’s own drag with the concierge now.”

    â€œI ought to have. Gave her two hundred francs.”

    â€œDon’t be a damned fool.”

    â€œHis,” she said, and nodded at the count.

    â€œI thought we ought to give her a little something for last night. It was very late.”

    â€œHe’s wonderful,” Brett said. “He remembers everything that’s happened.”

    â€œSo do you, my dear.”

    â€œFancy,” said Brett. “Who’d want to? I say, Jake,
do
we get a drink?”

    â€œYou get it while I go in and dress. You know where it is.”

    â€œRather.”

    While I dressed I heard Brett put down glasses and then a siphon, and then heard them talking. I dressed slowly, sitting on the bed. I felt tired and pretty rotten. Brett came in the room, a glass in her hand, and sat on the bed.

    â€œWhat’s the matter, darling? Do you feel rocky?”

    She kissed me coolly on the forehead.

    â€œOh, Brett, I love you so much.”

    â€œDarling,” she said. Then: “Do you want me to send him away?”

    â€œNo. He’s nice.”

    â€œI’ll send him away.”

    â€œNo, don’t.”

    â€œYes, I’ll send him away.”

    â€œYou can’t just like that.”

    â€œCan’t I, though? You stay here. He’s mad about me, I tell you.”

    She was gone out of the room. I lay face down on the bed. I was having a bad time. I heard them talking but I did not listen. Brett came in and sat on the bed.

    â€œPoor old darling.” She stroked my head.

    â€œWhat did you say to him?” I was lying with my face away from her. I did not want to see her.

    â€œSent him for champagne. He loves to go for champagne.”

    Then later: “Do you feel better, darling? Is the head any better?”

    â€œIt’s better.”

    â€œLie quiet. He’s gone to the other side of town.”

    â€œCouldn’t we live together, Brett? Couldn’t we just live together?”

    â€œI don’t think so. I’d just
tromper
you with everybody. You couldn’t stand it.”

    â€œI stand it now.”

    â€œThat would be different. It’s my fault, Jake. It’s the way I’m made.”

    â€œCouldn’t we go off in the country for a while?”

    â€œIt wouldn’t be any good. I’ll go if you like. But I couldn’t live quietly in the country. Not with my own true love.”

    â€œI know.”

    â€œIsn’t it rotten? There isn’t any use my telling you I love you.”

    â€œYou know I love you.”

    â€œLet’s not talk. Talking’s all bilge. I’m going away from you, and then Michael’s coming back.”

    â€œWhy are you going away?”

    â€œBetter for you. Better for me.”

    â€œWhen are you going?”

    â€œSoon as I can.”

    â€œWhere?”

    â€œSan Sebastian.”

    â€œCan’t we go together?”

    â€œNo. That would be a hell of an idea after we’d just talked it out.”

    â€œWe never agreed.”

    â€œOh, you know as well as I do. Don’t be obstinate, darling.”

    â€œOh, sure,” I said. “I know you’re right. I’m just low, and when I’m low I talk like a fool.”

    I sat up, leaned over, found my shoes beside the bed and put them on. I stood up.

    â€œDon’t look like that, darling.”

    â€œHow do you want me to look?”

    â€œOh, don’t be a fool.