Page 219 - tender-is-the-night

to swing back to their rosy cluster. Again and again these
branches went through the car.
In the compartment above and in front of Dick’s, a group
of English were standing up and exclaiming upon the back-
drop of sky, when suddenly there was a confusion among
them—they parted to give passage to a couple of young peo-
ple who made apologies and scrambled over into the rear
compartment of the funicular—Dick’s compartment. The
young man was a Latin with the eyes of a stuffed deer; the
girl was Nicole.
The two climbers gasped momentarily from their efforts;
as they settled into seats, laughing and crowding the Eng-
lish to the corners, Nicole said, ‘Hel-LO.’ She was lovely to
look at; immediately Dick saw that something was differ-
ent; in a second he realized it was her fine-spun hair, bobbed
like Irene Castle’s and fluffed into curls. She wore a sweater
of powder blue and a white tennis skirt—she was the first
morning in May and every taint of the clinic was departed.
‘Plunk!’ she gasped. ‘Whoo-oo that guard. They’ll arrest
us at the next stop. Doctor Diver, the Conte de Marmora.’
‘Gee-imminy!’ She felt her new hair, panting. ‘Sister
bought first-class tickets—it’s a matter of principle with her.’
She and Marmora exchanged glances and shouted: ‘Then
we found that firstclass is the hearse part behind the chauf-
feur—shut in with curtains for a rainy day, so you can’t see
anything. But Sister’s very dignified—‘ Again Nicole and
Marmora laughed with young intimacy.
‘Where you bound?’ asked Dick.
‘Caux. You too?’ Nicole looked at his costume. ‘That your

219