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Monsieur."
     
    He
opened the note which said, David, didn't want to disturb you am at the cafe
love Catherine. He put on the old trench coat, found a boina in the pocket and
walked out of the hotel into the rain.
     
    She
was at a corner table in the small cafe and before her was a clouded
yellow-tinged drink and a plate with one small dark red freshwater crayfish and
the debris of others. She was very far ahead of him. "Where have you been,
stranger?"
     
    "Just
down the road a piece." He noticed that her face was rain-washed and he
concentrated on what rain did to heavily tanned skin. She looked very nice too
in spite of it and he was happy to see her this way.
     
    'Did
you get going?" the girl asked.
     
    "Good
enough."
     
    "You
worked then. That's fine."
     
    The
waiter had been serving three Spaniards who were sitting at a table next to the
door. He came over now holding a glass and an ordinary Pernod bottle and a
small narrow-lipped pitcher of water. There were lumps of ice in the water.
"Pour Monsieur aussi?" he asked.
     
    "Yes,"
the young man said. "Please."
     
    The
waiter poured their high glasses half full of the off-yellow liquid and started
to pour the water slowly into the girl's glass. But the young man said,
"I'll do it," and the waiter took the bottle away. He seemed relieved
to be taking it away and the young man poured the water in a very thin stream
and the girl watched the absinthe cloud opalescently. It felt warm as her
fingers held the glass and then as it lost the yellow cast and began to look
milky it cooled sharply and the young man let the water fall in a drop at a
time. "'Why does it have to go in so slowly?" the girl asked.
"It breaks up and goes to pieces if the water pours in too fast," he
explained. "Then it's flat and worthless. There ought to be a glass on top
with ice and just a little hole for the water to drip. But everybody would know
what it was then." "I had to drink up fast before because two G.N.'s
were in, the girl said.
     
    "Whatyoumacallits
nationals. In khaki with bicycles and black leather pistol holsters. I had to
engulp the evidence." "Engulp?" "Sorry. Once I engulped it
I can't say it." "You want to be careful about absinthe."
"It only makes me feel easier about things." "And nothing else
does?" He finished making the absinthe for her, holding it well short of
mildness. "Go ahead," he told her. "Don't wait for me." She
took a long sip and then he took her glass from her and drank and said,
"Thank you, Ma'am. That puts heart in a man. "So make your own, you
clipping reader," she said. "What was that?" the young man said
to her. "I didn't say it." But she had said it and he said to her,
"Why don't you just shut up about the clippings." "Why?"
she said, leaning toward him and speaking too loudly. "Why should I shut
up? Just because you wrote this morning? Do you think I married you because you
re a writer? You and your clippings." "All right," the young man
said. "Can you tell me the rest of it when we're by ourselves?"
"Don't ever think for a moment I won't," she said.
     
    "I
guess not," he said.
     
    "Don't
guess," she said. "You can be certain.
     
    David
Bourne stood up and went over to the hanger and lifted his raincoat and went
out the door without looking back.
     
    At
the table Catherine raised her glass and tasted the absinthe very carefully and
went on tasting it in little sips.
     
    The
door opened and David came back in and walked up to the table. He was wearing
his trench coat and had his boina pulled low on his forehead. "Do you have
the keys to the car?"
     
    "Yes,"
she said.
     
    "May
I have them?"
     
    She
gave them to him but said, "Don't be stupid, David. It was the rain and
you being the only one who had worked. Sit down."
     
    "Do
you want me to?"
     
    "Please,"
she said.
     
    He
sat down. That didn't make much sense, he thought. You got up to go out and
take the damned car and stay out and the hell with her and then you come back
in and have to ask for