Ernest Hemingway

THE GARDEN OF EDEN
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Chapter Eighteen

HE FINISHED THE STORY in four days. He had in it all the pressure that had built while he was writing it and the modest part of him was afraid that it could not possibly be as good as he believed it to be. The cold, hard part knew it was better.

"How was it today?" the girl asked him.

"I finished." "Can I read it?" "If you want

"You wouldn't mind truly?"

"It's in those two cahiers in the top of the suitcase." He handed her the key and then sat at the bar and drank a whiskey and Perrier and read the morning paper. She came back and sat on a stool a little way down from him and read the story.

When she finished it she started to read it over again and he made himself a second whiskey and soda and watched her read. When she finished it the second time he said, "Do you like it?"

"It's not a thing you like or not like," she said. "It's your father isn't it?"

"Sure."

"Was this when you stopped loving him?"

"No. I always loved him. This was when I got to know him."

"It's a terrible story and it's wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it," he said.

"I'll put it back now," she said. "I like going in the room when the door is locked."

"We have that," David said.

When they came back from the beach they found Catherine in the garden.

"So you got back," she said.

"Yes," David said. "We had a good swim. I wish you'd been there."

"Well, I wasn't," she said. "If it's of any interest to you.

"Where did you go?" David asked.

"I was in Cannes on my own business," she said. "You're both late for lunch."

"I'm sorry," David said. "Do you want to have anything before lunch?"

"Please excuse me, Catherine," Marita said. "I'll be back in a moment."

"You're still drinking before lunch?" Catherine asked David.

"Yes," he said. "I don't think it matters if you're getting a lot of exercise."

"There was an empty whiskey glass on the bar when I came

"Yes," said David. "I had two whiskeys actually."

"Actually," she mimicked him. "You're very British today."

"Really?" he said. "I didn't feel very British. I felt sort of half-assed Tahitian."

"It's just your way of speaking that irritates me, she said. "Your choice of words."

"I see," he said. "Did you want a shot before they bring the chow?"

"You don't have to be a clown."

"The best clowns don't talk," he said.

"Nobody accused you of being the best of clowns," she said. "Yes. I'd like a drink if it isn't too much work for you to make it."

He made three martinis, measuring them each out separately and pouring them into the pitcher where there was a big chunk of ice and then stirring.

"Who is the third drink for?"

"Marita."

"Your paramour?"

"My what?"

"Your paramour.

"You really said it," David told her. "I'd never heard that word pronounced and I had absolutely no hope of ever hearing it in this life. You're really wonderful."

"It's a perfectly common word."

"It is at that," David said. "But to have the sheer, naked courage to use it in conversation. Devil, be good (...)

(......)