Page 401 - tender-is-the-night

VI

Next morning Dick came early into Nicole’s room. ‘I wait-
ed till I heard you up. Needless to say I feel badly about the
evening—but how about no postmortems?’
‘I’m agreed,’ she answered coolly, carrying her face to the
mirror.
‘Tommy drove us home? Or did I dream it?’
‘You know he did.’
‘Seems probable,’ he admitted, ‘since I just heard him
coughing. I think I’ll call on him.’
She was glad when he left her, for almost the first time
in her life—his awful faculty of being right seemed to have
deserted him at last.
Tommy was stirring in his bed, waking for café au lait.
‘Feel all right?’ Dick asked.
When Tommy complained of a sore throat he seized at a
professional attitude.
‘Better have a gargle or something.’
‘You have one?’
‘Oddly enough I haven’t—probably Nicole has.’
‘Don’t disturb her.’
‘She’s up.’
‘How is she?’
Dick turned around slowly. ‘Did you expect her to be
dead because I was tight?’ His tone was pleasant. ‘Nicole is

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