Page 410 - tender-is-the-night

‘We’ll both go.’ She struggled a moment against his
pronouncement, but eventually they swam out together,
tracing Rosemary by the school of little fish who followed
her, taking their dazzle from her, the shining spoon of a
trout hook.
Nicole stayed in the water while Dick hoisted himself
up beside Rosemary, and the two sat dripping and talking,
exactly as if they had never loved or touched each other.
Rosemary was beautiful—her youth was a shock to Nicole,
who rejoiced, however, that the young girl was less slen-
der by a hairline than herself. Nicole swam around in little
rings, listening to Rosemary who was acting amusement,
joy, and expectation—more confident than she had been
five years ago.
‘I miss Mother so, but she’s meeting me in Paris, Mon-
day.’
‘Five years ago you came here,’ said Dick. ‘And what
a funny little thing you were, in one of those hotel pei-
gnoirs!’
‘How you remember things! You always did—and always
the nice things.’
Nicole saw the old game of flattery beginning again and
she dove under water, coming up again to hear:
‘I’m going to pretend it’s five years ago and I’m a girl of
eighteen again. You could always make me feel some you
know, kind of, you know, kind of happy way—you and Ni-
cole. I feel as if you’re still on the beach there, under one of
those umbrellas—the nicest people I’d ever known, maybe
ever will.’

410 Tender is the Night