Tender is the Night. Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд

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Tender is the Night - Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд

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any business left,” said Charley frankly. “I’m just about on my own.”

      Mr. Dickey considered for a moment.

      “If you haven’t made any plans why don’t you come down and see me at my office some day this week. I’ve got a little proposition that may interest you.”

      It annoyed Charley to think that Diana had probably arranged all this. He needed no charity. He had not been crippled, and the war was over five years. People did not talk like this anymore.

      The whole first floor had been set with tables for the supper that would follow the dance, so Charley and Diana had dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Dickey in the library upstairs. It was an uncomfortable meal at which Mr. Dickey did the talking and Diana covered up the gaps with nervous gaiety. He was glad when it was over and he was standing with Diana on the veranda in the gathering darkness.

      “Charley——” She leaned close to him and touched his arm gently. “Don’t go to New York tonight. Spend a few days down here with me. I want to talk to you and I don’t feel that I can talk tonight with this party going on.”

      “I’ll come out again—later in the week,” he said evasively.

      “Why not stay tonight?”

      “I promised I’d be back at eleven.”

      “At eleven?” She looked at him reproachfully. “Do you have to account to that girl for your evenings?”

      “I like her,” he said defiantly. “I’m not a child, Diamond Dick, and I rather resent your attitude. I thought you closed out your interest in my life five years ago.”

      “You won’t stay?”

      “No.”

      “All right—then we only have an hour. Let’s walk out and sit on the wall by the Sound.”

      Side by side they started through the deep twilight where the air was heavy with salt and roses.

      “Do you remember the last time we walked somewhere together?” she whispered.

      “Why—no. I don’t think I do. Where was it?”

      “It doesn’t matter—if you’ve forgotten.”

      When they reached the shore she swung herself up on the low wall that skirted the water.

      “It’s spring, Charley.”

      “Another spring.”

      “No—just spring. If you say ‘another spring’ it means you’re getting old.” She hesitated. “Charley——”

      “Yes, Diamond Dick.”

      “I’ve been waiting to talk to you like this for five years.”

      Looking at him out of the corner of her eye she saw he was frowning and changed her tone.

      “What kind of work are you going into, Charley?”

      “I don’t know. I’ve got a little money left and I won’t have to do anything for awhile. I don’t seem to fit into business very well.”

      “You mean like you fitted into the war.”

      “Yes.” He turned to her with a spark of interest. “I belonged to the war. It seems a funny thing to say but I think I’ll always look back to those days as the happiest in my life.”

      “I know what you mean,” she said slowly. “Nothing quite so intense or so dramatic will ever happen to our generation again.”

      They were silent for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was trembling a little.

      “There are things lost in it—parts of me—that I can look for and never find. It was my war in a way, you see, and you can’t quite hate what was your own.” He turned to her suddenly. “Let’s be frank, Diamond Dick—we loved each other once and it seems—seems rather silly to be stalling this way with you.”

      She caught her breath.

      “Yes,” she said faintly, “let’s be frank.”

      “I know what you’re up to and I know you’re doing it to be kind. But life doesn’t start all over again when a man talks to an old love on a spring night.”

      “I’m not doing it to be kind.”

      He looked at her closely.

      “You lie, Diamond Dick. But—even if you loved me now it wouldn’t matter. I’m not like I was five years ago—I’m a different person, can’t you see? I’d rather have a drink this minute than all the moonlight in the world. I don’t even think I could love a girl like you anymore.”

      She nodded.

      “I see.”

      “Why wouldn’t you marry me five years ago, Diamond Dick?”

      “I don’t know,” she said after a minute’s hesitation. “I was wrong.”

      “Wrong!” he exclaimed bitterly. “You talk as if it had been guesswork, like betting on white or red.”

      “No, it wasn’t guesswork.”

      There was a silence for a minute—then she turned to him with shining eyes.

      “Won’t you kiss me, Charley?” she asked simply.

      He started.

      “Would it be so hard to do?” she went on. “I’ve never asked a man to kiss me before.”

      With an exclamation he jumped off the wall.

      “I’m going to the city,” he said.

      “Am I—such bad company as all that?”

      “Diana.” He came close to her and put his arms around her knees and looked into her eyes. “You know that if I kiss you I’ll have to stay. I’m afraid of you—afraid of your kindness, afraid to remember anything about you at all. And I couldn’t go from a kiss of yours to—another girl.”

      “Good-bye,” she said suddenly.

      He hesitated for a moment; then he protested helplessly.

      “You put me in a terrible position.”

      “Good-bye.”

      “Listen Diana——”

      “Please go away.”

      He turned and walked quickly toward the house.

      Diana sat without moving while the night breeze made cool puffs and ruffles on her chiffon dress. The moon had risen higher now, and

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