“Wonderful. Budapest was wonderful.”
“Ask him about Vienna.”
“Vienna,” said Bill, “is a strange city.”
“Very much like Paris,” Brett smiled at him, wrinkling the corners of her eyes.
“Exactly,” Bill said. “Very much like Paris at this moment.”
“You have a good start.”
Sitting out on the terraces of the Lilas Brett ordered a whiskey and soda, I took one, too, and Bill took another pernod.
“How are you, Jake?”
“Great,” I said. “I’ve had a good time.”
Brett looked at me. “I was a fool to go away,” she said. “One’s an ass to leave Paris.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“Oh, all right. Interesting. Not frightfully amusing.”
“See anybody?”
“No, hardly anybody. I never went out.”
“Didn’t you swim?”
“No. Didn’t do a thing.”
“Sounds like Vienna,” Bill said.
Brett wrinkled up the corners of her eyes at him.