Page 133 - tender-is-the-night

Hillis seemed to have made no emotional impression on
Collis save to give him the joyful conviction that Rosemary
was ‘human.’
‘Bones got a wonderful crowd,’ he said. ‘We all did, as a
matter of fact. New Haven’s so big now the sad thing is the
men we have to leave out.’
—Do you mind if I pull down the curtain?
—Please do. It’s too light in here.
... Dick went over Paris to his bank—writing a check, he
looked along the row of men at the desks deciding to which
one he would present it for an O.K. As he wrote he engrossed
himself in the material act, examining meticulously the
pen, writing laboriously upon the high glass-topped desk.
Once he raised glazed eyes to look toward the mail depart-
ment, then glazed his spirit again by concentration upon
the objects he dealt with.
Still he failed to decide to whom the check should be
presented, which man in the line would guess least of the
unhappy predicament in which he found himself and, also,
which one would be least likely to talk. There was Perrin,
the suave New Yorker, who had asked him to luncheons at
the American Club, there was Casasus, the Spaniard, with
whom he usually discussed a mutual friend in spite of the
fact that the friend had passed out of his life a dozen years
before; there was Muchhause, who always asked him wheth-
er he wanted to draw upon his wife’s money or his own.
As he entered the amount on the stub, and drew two
lines under it, he decided to go to Pierce, who was young
and for whom he would have to put on only a small show. It

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