Chapter 12

           HefoundNicoleinthegardenwithherarmsfoldedhighonhershoulders.Shelookedathimwithstraightgrayeyes,withachild’ssearchingwonder.

           "IwenttoCannes,"hesaid."IranintoMrs.Speers.She’sleavingto-morrow.Shewantedtocomeupandsaygood-bytoyou,butIslewtheidea."

           "I’msorry.I’dliketohaveseenher.Ilikeher."

           "WhoelsedoyouthinkIsaw—BartholomewTailor."

           "Youdidn’t."

           "Icouldn’thavemissedthatfaceofhis,theoldexperiencedweasel.HewaslookingoverthegroundforCiro’sMenagerie—they’llallbedownnextyear.IsuspectedMrs.Abramswasasortofoutpost."

           "AndBabywasoutragedthefirstsummerwecamehere."

           "Theydon’treallygiveadamnwheretheyare,soIdon’tseewhytheydon’tstayandfreezeinDeauville."

           "Can’twestartrumorsaboutcholeraorsomething?"

           "ItoldBartholomewthatsomecategoriesdiedofflikeflieshere—Itoldhimthelifeofasuckwasasshortasthelifeofamachine-gunnerinthewar."

           "Youdidn’t."

           "No,Ididn’t,"headmitted."Hewasverypleasant.Itwasabeautifulsight,heandIshakinghandsthereontheboulevard.ThemeetingofSigmundFreudandWardMcAllister."

           Dickdidn’twanttotalk—hewantedtobealonesothathisthoughtsaboutworkandthefuturewouldoverpowerhisthoughtsofloveandto-day.Nicoleknewaboutitbutonlydarklyandtragically,hatinghimalittleinananimalway,yetwantingtorubagainsthisshoulder.

           "Thedarling,"Dicksaidlightly.