Page 192 - tender-is-the-night

‘No.’ He gave one short convulsive sob and blew his nose
several times. ‘Except now there’re plenty of consequences.’
As the story concluded Dohmler sat back in the focal
armchair of the middle class and said to himself sharply,
‘Peasant!’—it was one of the few absolute worldly judg-
ments that he had permitted himself for twenty years. Then
he said:
‘I would like for you to go to a hotel in Zurich and spend
the night and come see me in the morning.’
‘And then what?’
Doctor Dohmler spread his hands wide enough to carry
a young pig.
‘Chicago,’ he suggested.

192 Tender is the Night