Page 321 - tender-is-the-night

dye, such as his love for Nicole had been. Certain thoughts
about Nicole, that she should die, sink into mental dark-
ness, love another man, made him physically sick.
Nicotera was in Rosemary’s sitting-room, chattering
about a professional matter. When Rosemary gave him
his cue to go, he left with humorous protests and a rath-
er insolent wink at Dick. As usual the phone clamored and
Rosemary was engaged at it for ten minutes, to Dick’s in-
creasing impatience.
‘Let’s go up to my room,’ he suggested, and she agreed.
She lay across his knees on a big sofa; he ran his fingers
through the lovely forelocks of her hair.
‘Let me be curious about you again?’ he asked.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘About men. I’m curious, not to say prurient.’
‘You mean how long after I met you?’
‘Or before.’
‘Oh, no.’ She was shocked. ‘There was nothing before.
You were the first man I cared about. You’re still the only
man I really care about.’ She considered. ‘It was about a year,
I think.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Oh, a man.’
He closed in on her evasion.
‘I’ll bet I can tell you about it: the first affair was unsatis-
factory and after that there was a long gap. The second was
better, but you hadn’t been in love with the man in the first
place. The third was all right—‘
Torturing himself he ran on. ‘Then you had one real af-

321