Page 392 - tender-is-the-night

alert; the pupils of his eyes flashed.
‘Five years,’ she continued, in throaty mimicry of noth-
ing. ‘MUCH too long. Couldn’t you only slaughter a certain
number of creatures and then come back, and breathe our
air for a while?’
In her cherished presence Tommy Europeanized himself
quickly.
‘Mais pour nous héros,’ he said, ‘il nous faut du temps,
Nicole. Nous ne pouvons pas faire de petits exercises
d’héroisme—il faut faire les grandes compositions.’
‘Talk English to me, Tommy.’
‘Parlez français avec moi, Nicole.’
‘But the meanings are different—in French you can be
heroic and gallant with dignity, and you know it. But in
English you can’t be heroic and gallant without being a little
absurd, and you know that too. That gives me an advan-
tage.’
‘But after all—‘ He chuckled suddenly. ‘Even in English
I’m brave, heroic and all that.’
She pretended to be groggy with wonderment but he was
not abashed.
‘I only know what I see in the cinema,’ he said.
‘Is it all like the movies?’
‘The movies aren’t so bad—now this Ronald Colman—
have you seen his pictures about the Corps d’Afrique du
Nord? They’re not bad at all.’
‘Very well, whenever I go to the movies I’ll know you’re
going through just that sort of thing at that moment.’
As she spoke, Nicole was aware of a small, pale, pretty

392 Tender is the Night