It was no feat for a man with a bad right hand.
''I said I didn't want to drink anything.''
''I know daughter.
But I thought you might need one.
We can leave it on the bar.
Or I can drink it myself.
Please,'' he said. ''I did not mean to be brusque.''
''We haven't asked for the little negro that will look after me.''
''No.
Because I did not want to ask for him until Cipriani came in and I could pay for him.''
''Is everything that rigid?''
''With me, I guess,'' the Colonel said. ''I'm sorry daughter.''
''Say daughter three times straight.''
''Hija, figlia, Daughter.''
''I don't know,'' she said. ''I think we should just leave here.
I love to have people see us, but I don't want to see anybody.''
''The box with the negro in it is on top of the cash register.''
''I know.
I've seen it for sometime.''
The bar-tender came, with the two drinks, frost cold from the chilled coldness of the glasses, and he brought the glass of water.
''Give me that small packet that came in my name and is on top of the cash register,'' the Colonel said to him. ''Tell Cipriani I will send him a check for it.''
He had made another decision.
''Do you want your drink, daughter?''
''Yes.
If you don't mind me changing my mind too.''
They drank, after touching the glasses very lightly, so lightly that the contact was almost imperceptible.
''You were right,'' she said feeling its warmth and its momentary destruction of sorrow.
''You were right too,'' he said and palmed the two tablets.
He thought taking them with the water now was in bad taste.
So, when the girl turned her head a moment to watch a morning drinker go out the door, he swallowed them with the Martini.
''Should we go, Daughter?''
''Yes.
By all means.''
''Bar-tender,'' the Colonel said. ''How much are these drinks?
And do not forget to tell Cipriani I am sending him a check for this nonsense.''
CHAPTER 38
THEY ate lunch at the Gritti, and the girl had unwrapped the small ebony negro's head and torso, and pinned it high on her left shoulder.
It was about three inches long, and was quite lovely to look at if you liked that sort of thing.
And if you don't you are stupid, the Colonel thought.
But do not even think rough, he told himself. You have to be good now in every way until you say goodbye.
What a word, he thought, good-bye. It sounds like a Valentine slogan.
Good-bye and bonne chance and hasta la vista. We always just said merde and let it go at that.
Farewell, he thought, that is a nice word.
It sings well, he thought. Farewell, a long farewell and take it with you where you go.
With handles, he thought.
''Daughter,'' he said. ''How long has it been since I told you that I loved you?''
''Not since we sat at the table.''
''I tell you now.''
She had combed her hair with patience when they came into the hotel and she had gone into the room for women.
She disliked such rooms.