Page 151 - tender-is-the-night

XXIII

Abe North was still in the Ritz bar, where he had been
since nine in the morning. When he arrived seeking sanc-
tuary the windows were open and great beams were busy
at pulling up the dust from smoky carpets and cushions.
Chasseurs tore through the corridors, liberated and disem-
bodied, moving for the moment in pure space. The sit-down
bar for women, across from the bar proper, seemed very
small—it was hard to imagine what throngs it could accom-
modate in the afternoon.
The famous Paul, the concessionaire, had not arrived,
but Claude, who was checking stock, broke off his work
with no improper surprise to make Abe a pick-me-up. Abe
sat on a bench against a wall. After two drinks he began to
feel better—so much better that he mounted to the barber’s
shop and was shaved. When he returned to the bar Paul had
arrived—in his custom-built motor, from which he had dis-
embarked correctly at the Boulevard des Capucines. Paul
liked Abe and came over to talk.
‘I was supposed to ship home this morning,’ Abe said. ‘I
mean yesterday morning, or whatever this is.’
‘Why din you?’ asked Paul.
Abe considered, and happened finally to a reason: ‘I was
reading a serial in Liberty and the next installment was due
here in Paris— so if I’d sailed I’d have missed it—then I

151