Page 342 - tender-is-the-night

He atoned for it by an excess of modesty. Taking his clothes
into the bathroom he dressed in haste, muttering to him-
self ‘Gosh. She certainly musta got a good look at me.’ After
some telephoning, he and Baby found the jail and went to
it.
The cell door was open and Dick was slumped on a chair
in the guard-room. The carabinieri had washed some of the
blood from his face, brushed him and set his hat conceal-
ingly upon his head.
Baby stood in the doorway trembling.
‘Mr. Clay will stay with you,’ she said. ‘I want to get the
Consul and a doctor.’
‘All right.’
‘Just stay quiet.’
‘All right.’
‘I’ll be back.’
She drove to the Consulate; it was after eight now, and
she was permitted to sit in the ante-room. Toward nine the
Consul came in and Baby, hysterical with impotence and
exhaustion, repeated her story. The Consul was disturbed.
He warned her against getting into brawls in strange cities,
but he was chiefly concerned that she should wait outside—
with despair she read in his elderly eye that he wanted to be
mixed up as little as possible in this catastrophe. Waiting on
his action, she passed the minutes by phoning a doctor to go
to Dick. There were other people in the ante-room and sev-
eral were admitted to the Consul’s office. After half an hour
she chose the moment of some one’s coming out and pushed
past the secretary into the room.

342 Tender is the Night