Page 48 - tender-is-the-night

VII

In a pause Rosemary looked away and up the table where
Nicole sat between Tommy Barban and Abe North, her
chow’s hair foaming and frothing in the candlelight. Rose-
mary listened, caught sharply by the rich clipped voice in
infrequent speech:
‘The poor man,’ Nicole exclaimed. ‘Why did you want to
saw him in two?’
‘Naturally I wanted to see what was inside a waiter.
Wouldn’t you like to know what was inside a waiter?’
‘Old menus,’ suggested Nicole with a short laugh. ‘Pieces
of broken china and tips and pencil stubs.’
‘Exactly—but the thing was to prove it scientifically. And
of course doing it with that musical saw would have elimi-
nated any sordidness.’
‘Did you intend to play the saw while you performed the
operation?’ Tommy inquired.
‘We didn’t get quite that far. We were alarmed by the
screams. We thought he might rupture something.’
‘All sounds very peculiar to me,’ said Nicole. ‘Any musi-
cian that’ll use another musician’s saw to—‘
They had been at table half an hour and a perceptible
change had set in—person by person had given up some-
thing, a preoccupation, an anxiety, a suspicion, and now
they were only their best selves and the Divers’ guests. Not

48 Tender is the Night