The Sun Also Rises - Book 3, Chapter 19

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Episode Transcript

(00:01):
Book three, chapter nineteen. Inthe morning, it was all over.
The fiesta was finished. I wokeabout nine o'clock, had a bath,
dressed, and went downstairs. Thesquare was empty, and there were no
people on the streets. A fewchildren were picking up rocket sticks in the
square. The cafes were just opening, and the waiters were carrying out the

(00:23):
comfortable white wicker chairs and arranging themaround the marble topped tables in the shade
of the arcade. They were sweepingthe streets and sprinkling them with a hose.
I sat in one of the wickerchairs and leaned back comfortably. The
waiter was in no hurry to come. The white paper announcements of the unloading
of the bulls and the big schedulesof special trains were still up on the

(00:46):
pillars of the arcade. A waiterwearing a blue apron came out with a
bucket of water and a cloth,and commenced to tear down the notices,
pulling the paper off in strips,and washing and rubby away the paper that
stuck to the stone. The fiestawas over. I drank a coffee,
and after a while Bill came over. I watched him come walking across the

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square. He sat down at thetable in order to coffee. Well,
he said, it's all over,Yes, I said, when do you
go? I don't know. Webetter get a car. I think,
aren't you going back to Paris?No? I can stay away another week.
I think I'll go to San Sebastian. I want to get back.

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What's Mike going to do? He'sgoing to Saint Jean de Luce. Let's
get a car and i'll go asfar as beyond. You can get the
train up from there tonight. Good, let's go after lunch. All right,
I'll get the car. We hadlunch and paid the bill. Montoya
did not come near us. Oneof the maids brought the bill. The

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car was outside. The chauffeur piledand strapped the bags on top of the
car and put them in beside himin the front seat, and we got
in. The car went out ofthe square, along through the side streets,
out under the trees and down thehill and away from Pamplona. It
did not seem like a very longride. Mike had a bottle of foumdador.

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I only took a couple of drinks. We came over the mountains and
out of Spain and down the whiteroads and through the over foliaged wet green
Basque country and finally into Bayonne.We left Bill's baggage at the station and
he bought a ticket to Paris.His train left at seven to ten.
We came out of the station.The car was standing out in front.

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What shall we do about the car? Bill asked, oh, bother the
car. Mike said, let's justkeep the car with us, all right?
Bill said, where shall we go? Let's go to Burritt's and have
a drink. Old Mike the spender, Bill said. We drove into burrit
and left the car outside, avery rich place. We went into the
bar and sat on high stools anddrank a whiskey and soda. That drink's

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mine. Mike said, let's rollfor it, so we rolled poker dice
out of a deep leather dice cup. Bill was out first roll. Mike
lost to me and handed at thebartender a one hundred franc note. The
whiskies were twelve francs apiece. Wehad another round and Mike lost again.
Each time, he gave the bartendera good tip. In a room off

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the bar, there was a goodjazz band playing was a pleasant bar.
We had another round. I wentout on the first roll with four kings.
Bill and Mike rolled. Mike wonthe first roll with four jacks.
Bill won the second and the finalroll. Mike had three kings to let
them stay. He handed the dicecup to Bill. Bill rattled them and

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rolled, and there were three kingsand aeson a queen, it's yours,
Mike, Bill said, old Mikebe gambler. I'm so sorry. Mike
said, I can't get it.What's the matter. I've no money,
Mike said, I'm stony. I'vejust twenty francs. Here, take twenty
francs. Bill's face sort of changed. I just had enough to pay Montoya.

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I am lucky to have it too. I'll cash you a check.
Bill said, that's damn nice ofyou, But you see, I can't
write checks. What are you goingto do for money? Oh? Some
will come through. I've two weeksallowance should be here. I can live
on tick at this pub in SaintJean. What do you want to do

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about the car? Bill asked me, do you want to keep it on?
Doesn't make any difference, seems sortof idiotic. Come on, let's
have another drink. Mike said,fine, this one is on me.
Bill said, has Brett any money? He turned to Mike. I shouldn't
think so. She put up mostof what I gave to Old Montoya.

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She hasn't any money with her,I asked, I shouldn't think so.
She never has any money. Shegets five hundred quid a year and pays
three hundred and fifty of it ininterest to Jews. I suppose they get
it at the source, said Bill. Quite. They're not really Jews,
we just call them Jews the scotsmanI believe. Hasn't she any at all

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with her? I asked, Ihardly think so. She gave it all
to me when she left. Well, Bill said, we might as well
have another drink. Damn good idea, Mike said. One never gets anywhere
by discussing finances, No, saidBill. Bill and I rolled for the
next two rounds. Bill lost andpaid. We went out to the car.

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Anywhere you'd like to go, Mike, Bill asked, Let's take a
drive. Might do my credit good. Let's drive about a little fine.
I'd like to see the coast.Let's drive down toward Henday. I haven't
any credit along the coast. Youcan't ever tell, said Bill. We
drove out along the coast road.There was the green of the headlands,

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the white, red roofed villas,patches of forest, and the ocean very
blue, with the tide out andthe water curling far out along the beach.
We drove through Saint Jean de LUsand passed through villages farther down the
coast, back of the rolling countrywe were going through. We saw the
mountains we had come over from Pamplona. The road went on ahead. Bill

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looked at his watch. It's timefor us to go back. He knocked
on the glass and told the driverto turn around. The driver backed the
car out into the grass to turnit in. Back of us were the
woods below, a stretch of meadow, and the sea. At the hotel
where Mike was going to stay inSaint Jean, we stopped the car and

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he got out. The chauffeur carriedin his bags. Mike stood by the
side of the car. Good Byeyou chaps, Mike said, was a
damned farm fiesta so long, Mike. Bill said, I'll see you around.
I said, don't worry about money. Mike said, you can pay
for the car, Jake, andI'll send you my share. So long,

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Mike, So long, you chaps, you've been damned nice. We
all shook hands. We waved fromthe car to Mike. He stood in
the road watching. We got tobeyond. Just before the train left,
a porter carried Bill's bags in fromthe consigne. I went as far as
the inner gate to the tracks.So long, fellow, Bill said,

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So long, kid, Well swell, I've had a swell time. Will
you be in Paris? No,I have to sail on the seventeenth,
So long, fellow, So long, old kid. He went in through
the gate to the train. Theporter went ahead with the bags. I
watched the train pull out. Billwas at one of the windows. The

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window passed, the rest of thetrain passed. The tracks were empty.
I went outside to the car.How much do we owe you, I
asked the driver. The price toBeyonne had been fixed at a hundred and
fifty pasettis two hundred pisettas. Howmuch more will it be if you drive
me to San Sebastian on your wayback? Fifty paissettas, don't kid me

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thirty five paisettas. It's not worthit, I said, drive me to
the hotel paner Flori. The hotel, I paid the driver and gave him
a tip. The car was powderedwith dust. I rubbed the rod case
through the dust. It seemed thelast thing that connected me with Spain and
the Fiesta. The driver put thecar in gear and went down the street.

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I watched it turn off to takethe road to Spain. I went
into the hotel and they gave mea room. It was the same room
I had slipped in when Bill andKohane and I were in Bayonne. It
seemed a very long time ago.I washed, change my shirt and went
out into the town. At anewspaper Kiosk, I bought a copy of

(09:05):
the New York Herald and sat ina cafe to read. It felt strange
to be in France again. Therewas a safe, suburban feeling. I
wished I had gone up to Pariswith Bill, except that Paris would have
meant more fiestaing. I was throughwith fiestas for a while. Would be

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quiet in San Sebastian. The seasondoes not open there until August. I
could get a good hotel room andread and swim. There was a fine
beach. There there were wonderful treesalong the promenade above the beach. There
were many children sent down with theirnurses before the season opened. In the
evening there would be band concerts underthe trees. Across from the Cafe Marinas.

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I could sit in the Marinas andlisten. How does one eat inside?
I asked the waiter. Inside thecafe was a restaurant. Well,
very well, one eats very wellgood. I went in and ate dinner.
It was a big meal for Franz, but it seemed very carefully apportioned.
After Spain, I drank a bottleof wine for company. It was

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a Chateau Margaux. It was pleasantto be drinking slowly and to be tasting
the wine, and to be drinkingalone. A bottle of wine was good
company. Afterward I had coffee.The waiter recommended a basque liquor called Izara.
He brought in the bottle and poureda liqueur glass full. He said

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Izarta was made of the flowers ofthe Pyrenees, the veritable flowers of the
Pyrenees. It looked like heroil andsmell like Italian straga. I told them
to take the flowers that the Pyreneesaway and bring me a fool mark.
The mark was good. I hada second mark after the coffee. The

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waiter seemed a little offended about theflowers of the Pyrenees, so I overtipped
him. That made him happy.It felt comfortable to be in a country
where it is so simple to makepeople happy. You can never tell whether
a Spanish waiter will thank you.Everything is on such a clear financial basis
in France. It is the simplestcountry to live in. No one makes

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things complicated by becoming your friend forany obscure reason. If you want people
to like you, you have onlyto spend a little money. I spent
a little money and the waiter likedme. You appreciate it my valuable qualities.
He would be glad to see meback. I would dine there again
some time, and he would beglad to see me and would want me

(11:39):
at his table. Would be asincere liking because it would have a sound
basis. I was back in Francenext morning. I tipped everyone a little
too much at the hotel to makemore friends, and left on the morning
train for San Sebastian. At thestation, I did not tip the porter
more than I should, because Ididn't think I would ever see him again.

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I only wanted a few good Frenchfriends in Bonne to make me welcome
case I should come back there again. I knew that if they remembered me,
their friendship would be loyal. AtIron, we had to change trains
and show passports. I hated toleave France. Life was so simple in
France. I felt I was afool to be going back into Spain.

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In Spain you could never tell aboutanything. I felt like a fool to
be going back into it. ButI stood in line with my passport,
opened my bags for the customs,bought a ticket, went through a gate,
climbed onto the train, and afterforty minutes and eight tunnels, I
was at San Sebastian. Even ona hot day, San Sebastian has a

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certain early morning quality. The treesseem as though their leaves were never quite
dry. The streets feel as thoughthey had just been sprinkled. It is
always cool and shady on certain streets. On the hottest day, I went
to a hotel in the town whereI'd stopped before, and they gave me
a room with a balcony that openedout above the roofs of the town.

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There was a green mountain side beyondthe roofs. I unpacked my bags and
stacked my books on the table besidethe head of the bed, put out
my shaving things, hung up someclothes in the big armed woire, and
made up a bundle for the laundry, and I took a shower in the
bathroom and went down to lunch.Spain had not changed to summer time,

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so I was early. I setmy watch again. I had recovered an
hour by coming to San Sebastian.As I went into the dining room,
the concierge brought me a police bulletinto fill out. I signed it and
asked him for two telegraph forms,and wrote a message to the Hotel Montoya,

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telling them to forward all mail andtelegraphs for me to this address.
I calculated how many days I wouldbe in On Sebastian, and then wrote
out a wire to the office askingthem to hold mail but forward all wires
for me to San Sebastian for sixdays. Then I went in and had
lunch. After lunch, I wentup to my room, read awhile and

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went to sleep. When I woke. It was half past four. I
found my swimming suit, wrapped itwith a comb and a towel. I
went downstairs and walked up the streetto the Concha. The tide was about
half way out. The beach wassmooth and firm and the sand yellow.
I went into a bathing cabin,undressed, put on my suit, and

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walked across the smooth sand to thesea. The sand was warm under bare
feet. There were quite a fewpeople in the water and on the beach.
Out beyond where the headlands of theConcia almost met to form the harbor,
there was a white line of breakersin the open sea. Although the
tide was going out, there werea few slow rollers. They came in

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undulations in the water, gathered weightof water, and then broke smoothly on
the warm sand. I waded out. The water was cold as a roller
came. I dove, swam outunderwater and came to the surface with all
the chill gun. I swam outto the raft, pulled myself up and
lay on the hot planks. Aboy and girl were at the other end.

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The girl had undone the top strapof her bathing suit and was browning
her back. The boy lay facedownward on the raft and talked to her.
She laughed at things he said andturned her brown back in the sun.
I lay on the raft in thesun until I was dry. Then
I tried several dives. I dovedeep, once, swimming down to the

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bottom. I swam with my eyesopen, and it was green and dark.
The raft made a dark shadow.I came out of the water beside
the raft, pulled up, doveonce more, holding it for length,
and then swam. I'm ashore.I lay on the beach until I was
dry, then went into the bathingcabin, took off my suit, shlushed

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myself with fresh water, and rubbeddry. I walked around the harbor under
the trees to the casino, andthen up one of the cool streets to
the Cafe Marinas. There was anorchestra playing inside the cafe, and I
sat out on the terrace and enjoyedthe fresh coolness in the hot day,

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and had a glass of lemon juiceand shaved ice, and then a long
whisky and soda. I sat infront of the Marinas for a long time
and read and watched the people andlistened to the music. Later, when
it began to get dark. Iwalked around the harbor and out along the
promenade and finally back to the hotelfor supper. There was a bicycle race

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on They tore du Pays Basque,and the riders were stopping that night in
San Sebastian. In the dining room. At one side, it was a
long table of bicycle riders eat itwith their trainers and managers. They were
all French and Belgians and paid closeattention to their meal, but they were
having a good time. At thehead of the table were two good looking

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French girls with much rue de Faubourgmontmartro Chic. I could not make out
whom they belonged to. They allspoke and slang at the long table,
and there were many private jokes,and some jokes at the far end that
were not repeated when the girls askedto hear them. The next morning,
at five o'clock, the race resumedwith a last lap San Sebastian, Bilbao.

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The bicycle riders drank much wine andwere burned and browned by the sun.
They did not take the race seriouslyexcept among themselves. They raced among
themselves so often that it did notmake much difference who won, especially in
a foreign country, the money couldbe arranged. The man who had a

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matter of two minutes lead in therace, had an attack of boils,
which were very painful. He saton the small of his back. His
neck was very red and the blondehairs were sunburned. The other riders joked
him about his boils. He tappedon the table with his fork. Listen,
He said, tomorrow, my noseis so tight on the handlebars that

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the only thing touches those boils asa lovely breeze. One of the girls
looked at him down the table,and he grinned and turned red. The
Spaniards, they said, do notknow how to peddle. I'd coffee out
on the terrace with the team manager, one of the big bicycle manufacturers.
He said, it had been avery pleasant race and would have been worth

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watching if but the Chia had notabandoned it at Pamplona. The dust had
been bad, but in Spain theroads were better than in France. Bicycle
road racing was the only sport inthe world, he said. Had I
ever followed the tour to France?Only in the papers The Tour de France
was the greatest sporting event in theworld. Following and organizing the road races

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had made him know France. Fewpeople know France. Off spring and all
summer and all fall he spent onthe road with bicycle road races. Look
at the number of motor cars nowthat followed the riders from town to town
in a road race. Was arich country and more sportif every year be

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the most Sportif country in the worldwhose bicycle road racing? Did it?
That? And football? He knewFrance, La France sportive. He knew
road racing. We had Aconia afterall, though, it wasn't bad to
get back to Paris. There isonly one PanAm in all the world.
That is Paris is the town themost sportif in the world. Did I

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know a chop de negre? DidI not? I would see him there
some time, I certainly would.We would drink another fiend together. We
certainly would. They started at sixo'clock luss a quarter in the morning.
Would I be up for the departI would certainly try. Would I like

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him to call me? Was veryinteresting? I would leave a call at
the desk. He would not mindcalling me. I could not let him
take the trouble. I would leavea call at the desk. We said
good bye until the next morning.In the morning when I awoke, the
bicycle ridders and their following cars hadbeen on the road for three hours.
I'd coffee and the papers in bed, and then dressed and took my bathing

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suit down to the beach. Everythingwas fresh and cool and damp in the
early morning. Nurses in uniform andin peasant costum walked under the trees with
children. The Spanish children were beautiful. Some boot black sat together under a
tree talking to a soldier. Thesoldier had only one off arm. The

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tide was in and there was agood breeze and a surf on the beach.
I dressed in one of the bathcabins, crossed the narrow line of
beach and went into the water.I swam out, trying to swim through
the rollers, but having to divesometimes. Then in the quiet water,
I turned and floated. Floating,I saw only the sky and felt the

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drop and lift of the swells.I swam back to the surf and coasted
in face down on a big roller. Then turned and swam trying to keep
in the trough, and I'd havea wave break over me. It made
me tired swimming in the trough,and I turned and swam out to the
raft. The water was buoyant andcold. It felt as though you could

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never sink. I swam slowly itseemed like a long swim with the high
tide, and then pulled up onthe raft and sat, dripping on the
boards that were becoming hot in thesun. I looked round at the bay,
the old town, the casino,the line of trees along the promenade,
and the big hotels with their whiteporches and gold lettered names. Off

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on the right, almost closing theharbor, was a green hill with a
castle. The raft rocked with amotion of the water. On the other
side of the narrow gap that ledinto the open sea was another high headland.
I thought I would like to swimacross the bay, but I was
afraid of cramp. I sat inthe sun and watched the bathers on the

(22:33):
beach. They looked very small.After a while, I stood up,
gripped with my toes on the edgeof the raft as it tipped with my
weight, and dove cleanly and deeplyto come up through the lightning water,
blew the salt water out of myhead and swam slowly and steadily into shore.
After I was dressed and paid forthe bath cabin, I walked back

(22:56):
to the hotel. The bic racershad left several copies of La Auto around,
and I gathered them up in thereading room and took them out and
sat in an easy chair in thesun to read about and catch up on
French sporting life. While I wassitting there, the concierge came out with
a blue envelope in his hand,A telegraph for you, sir. I

(23:21):
poked my finger along under the foldthat was fastened down, spread it open
and read it. It had beenforwarded from Paris. Could you come Hotel
Montana, Madrid and rather in troubleBrett. I tipped the concierge and read
the message again. A postman wascoming along the sidewalk. He turned in

(23:44):
the hotel. He had a bigmustache and looked very military. He came
out of the hotel again. Theconcierge was just behind him. Here's another
telegram for you, sir, Thankyou, I said. I opened It
was forwarded from Pamplona. Could youcome Hotel Montana, Madrid, am rather

(24:06):
in trouble Brett. The concierge stoodthere waiting for another tip. Probably what
time is there a train for Madrid? It left at nine this morning.
There is a slow train at elevenand the sued Express at ten tonight.
Get me a berth on the suedExpress. Do you want the money now,

(24:26):
just as you wish? He said, I will have it put on
the bill. Do that well?That meant San Sebastian all shot to Hell,
I suppose vaguely I had expected somethingof the sort. I saw the
concierge standing in the doorway. Bringme a telegram form please. He brought

(24:47):
it, and I took out myfountain pen and printed Lady Ashley, Hotel
Montana, Madrid, arriving sued Expresstomorrow, Love Jake. It seemed to
handle it. That was send agirl off with one man, introduce her
to another, to go off withhim. Now go and bring her back

(25:07):
and sign the wire with love.That was it all right. I went
into lunch. I did not sleepmuch that night on the siued Express.
In the morning I had breakfast inthe dining car and watched the rock and
pine country between a villa and Escorial. I saw the Escorial out of the
window, gray and long and coldin the sun. Did not give a

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damn about it. I saw Madridcome up over the plain, a compact,
white skyline on the top of alittle cliff away across the sun hardened
country. The North Dez station inMadrid is the end of the line.
All trains finish there. They don'tgo on anywhere. Outside were cabs and
taxis and a line of hotel runners. It's like a country town. I

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took a taxi and we climbed upthrough the garden by the empty palace and
the unfinished church on the edge ofthe cliff, and on up until we
were in the high, hot,modern town. The taxi coasted down a
smooth street to the Puerta del Sole, and then through the traffic and out
onto the Carrera San Hieronimo. Allthe shops had their awnings down against the

(26:19):
heat. The windows on the sunnyside of the street were shuttered. The
taxi stopped at the curb. Isaw the sign Hotel Montana on the second
floor. The taxi driver carried thebags in left them by the elevator.
Could not make the elevator work,so I walked up on the second floor.

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Up was a cut brass sign HotelMontana. I rang and no one
came to the door. I rangagain, and a maid with a sullen
face opened the door. Is ladyAshley here? I asked. She looked
at me, dully, is anenglishwoman here? She turned and called someone
inside. A very fat woman cameto the door. Her hair was gray

(27:03):
and stiffly, oiled in scallops aroundher face. She was short and commanding.
Mui Buenos? I said, isthere an english woman here? I
would like to see this English lady? Mui buenos. Yes, there is
a female english Certainly you can seeher if she wishes to see you.
She wishes to see me, theichico will ask her. It is very

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hot. It is very hot inthe summer in Madrid. And how cold
in the winter. Yes, itis very cold in winter. Did I
want to stay myself in person inthe Hotel Montana? Of that? As
yet I was undecided. But itwould give me pleasure if my bags were
brought up from the ground floor inorder that they might not be stolen.

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Nothing was ever stolen in the HotelMontana and other fondas. Yes, not
here. No, the personages ofthis establishment were rigid selectioned. I was
happy to hear it. Nevertheless,I would welcome the upbringle of my bags.
The maid came in and said thatthe female English wanted to see the

(28:11):
male English now at once, good, I said, you see, it
is as I said, clearly.I followed the maid's back down a long,
dark corridor. At the end sheknocked on a door. Hello,
said Brett, is it you,Jake, it's me, Come in,
Come in. I opened the door. The maid closed it after me.

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Brett was in bed. She hadjust been brushing her hair and held the
brush in her hand. The roomwas in that disorder produced only by those
who have always had servants, darling, Brett said. I went over to
the bed and put my arms aroundher. She kissed me, and while
she kissed me, I could feelshe was thinking of something else. She

(28:55):
was trembling in my arms. Shefelt very small, Darling, I've had
such a hell of a time.Tell me about it. Nothing to tell.
He only left yesterday. I madehim go. Why didn't you keep
him? I don't know it isn'tthe sort of thing one does. I
don't think I heard him any Youwere probably damn good for him. He

(29:18):
shouldn't be living with anyone. Irealized that right away. No, oh,
hell, she said, let's nottalk about it. Let's never talk
about it, all right. Itwas rather a knock his being ashamed of
me. He was ashamed of mefor a while, you know. No,
Oh, yes, they were acthim about me in the cafe.
I guess he wanted me to growmy hair out. Me with long hair,

(29:41):
i'd look so like hell, it'sfunny. He said it would make
me more womanly. I'd look affright. What happened, Oh, he got
over that. He wasn't ashamed ofme long? What was it about being
in trouble? I didn't know whetherI could make him go, and I
didn't have a suit to go awayand leave him. He tried to give

(30:03):
me a lot of money. Youknow, I told him I had scads
of it. He knew that wasa lie. I couldn't take his money,
you know. No, well,let's not talk about it. There
were some funny things, though.Do give me a cigarette. I lit
the cigarette. He learned his Englishas a waiter and jib. Yes,

(30:23):
he wanted to marry me finally.Really, course I can't even marry Mike.
Maybe he thought that would make himLord Ashley. No, it wasn't
that he really wanted to marry meso I couldn't go away from him.
He said he wanted to make itsure I could never go away from him
after I'd gotten more womanly. Ofcourse, you ought to feel set up.

(30:48):
I do. I'm all right again. He's wiped out that damn cone
good. You know I'd have livedwith him if I hadn't seen it was
bad for him. We got alongday outside of your personal appearance. Oh,
he'd have gotten used to that.She put out the cigarette. I'm
thirty four. You know I'm notgoing to be one of those bitches that

(31:11):
ruins children. No, I'm notgoing to be that way. I feel
rather good, you know, Ifeel rather set up good. She looked
away. I thought she was lookingfor another cigarette. Then I saw she
was crying. I could feel hercrying, shaking and crying. She wouldn't
look up. I put my armsaround her. Don't let's ever talk about

(31:34):
it. Please, don't let's evertalk about it. Dear Brent. I'm
going back to Mike. I couldfeel her cry as I held her close.
He's so damn nice and he's soawful. He's my sort of thing.
She would not look up. Istroked her hair. I could feel
her shaking. I won't be oneof those bitches, she said. But

(31:56):
oh, Jake, please, let'snever talk about it. We left the
hotel Montana. A woman who ranthe hotel would not let me pay the
bill. The bill had been paid. Oh well, let it go,
Brett said, doesn't matter now.We rode in a taxi down to the
Palace hotel, left the bags,arranged for berths on the Suit Express for

(32:17):
the night, and went into thebar of the hotel for a cocktail.
We sat on high stools at thebar while the barman shook the martinis in
a large nickeled shaker. It's funny, what a wonderful gentility you get in
the bar of a big hotel,I said. Barmen and jockeys are the
only people who are polite any more. No matter how vogre a hotel is,

(32:40):
the bar is always nice. It'sodd bar tenders have always been fine,
you know, Brett said. It'squite true. He is only nineteen
isn't it amazing? We touched thetwo glasses as they stood side by side
on the bar. They were coldlybeat it. Outside the curtain window was

(33:02):
the summer heat of Madrid. Ilike an oliphant a martini. I said
to the barman, right you are, sir, there you are. Thanks.
I should have asked, you know. The barman went far enough up
the bar so that he would nothear our conversation. Brett had sipped from
the martini as it stood on thewood. Then she picked it up.

(33:23):
Her hand was steady enough to liftit after that first sip. It's good,
isn't it a nice bar? They'reall nice bars? You know.
I didn't believe it at first.He was born in nineteen o five.
I was in school in Paris.Then think of that. Anything you want
me to think about it, don'tbe an ass. Won't you buy a

(33:45):
lady a drink. We'll have twomore martinis as they were before, sir,
They were very good. Brett smiledat him. Thank you, ma'am.
Well bung oh, Brett said,bung oh. You know. Brett
said he'd only been with two womenbefore. He never cared about anything but
bull fighting. He's got plenty oftime. I don't know. He thinks

(34:09):
it was me, not the showin general. Well it was you,
Yes, it was me. Ithought you weren't ever going to talk about
it. How can I help it? You lose it if you talk about
it. I just talk around it. You know. I feel rather damn
good, Jake, You shouldn't youknow? It makes one feel rather good

(34:30):
deciding not to be a bitch.Yes, it's sort of what we have
instead of God. Some people havegot, I said, quite a lot.
He never worked very well with me. Should we have another martini?
The bartender shook up two more martinisand pour them out into fresh glasses.
Where will we have lunch? Iasked Brett. The bar was cool,

(34:53):
you could feel the heat outside throughthe window. Here, asked Brett.
It's rotten here in the hotel.Well do you know a place called Bothen's,
I asked the barman. Yes,sir, would you like to have
me write out the address? Thankyou. We lunched upstairs at Bothin's.
It is one of the best restaurantsin the world. We had roast young

(35:14):
suckling pig and drank Rioja alta Brettdid not eat much. She never ate
much. I ate a very bigmeal and drank three bottles of Rioja alta.
How do you feel, Jake,Brett asked, my god, what
a meal you've eaten? I feelfine. Do you want a dessert?
Lord? No, Brett was smoking. You like to eat, don't you?

(35:37):
She said yes? I said,I like to do a lot of
things. What do you like todo? Oh? I said, I
like to do a lot of things. Don't you want a dessert? You
asked me that once? Brett saidyes. I said so I did.
Let's have another bottle of Rioja alta. It's very good. You haven't drunk

(35:58):
much of it, I said,I have. You haven't seen. Let's
get two bottles, I said.The bottles came. I poured a little
in my glass and a glass forBrett, and filled my glass. We
touched glasses. Bung oh, Brettsaid, I drank my glass and poured
out another. Brett put her handon my arm. Don't get drunk,

(36:20):
Jake, she said, you don'thave to. How do you know,
don't? She said? It'll beall right. I'm not getting drunk,
I said, I'm just drinking alittle wine. I like to drink wine.
Don't get drunk, she said,Jake, don't get drunk. Want
to go for a ride, Isaid, want to ride through the town
right? Brett said, I haven'tseen Madrid. I should see Madrid.

(36:43):
I'll finish this, I said downstairs. We came out through the first
floor dining room to the street.A waiter went for a taxi. Was
hot and bright. Up the streetwas a little square with trees and grass
where there were taxis parked. Ataxi came up the street, the waiter
hanging out at the side. Itipped him and told the driver where to

(37:06):
drive, and got in beside Brett. The driver started up the street.
I settled back. Brett moved closeto me. We sat close against each
other. I put my arm aroundher and she rested against me comfortably.
Was very hot and bright, andthe houses looked sharply white. We turned
out on to the Grand Villa.Jake, Brett said, we could have

(37:30):
had such a damned good time together. A head was amounted policemen in khaki
directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly, pressing Brett
against me. Yes, I said, isn't it pretty? To think so.

(37:51):
The end the end of chapter nineteen. The end of the sun also
rises by earnest tim give away