Only the sight draft."
"Thank God I'm not your family."
"I'll send them a cable."
"Don't you care anything about them?"
"I did, but we quarrelled so much it wore itself out."
"I think I'd like them.
I'd probably like them very much."
"Let's not talk about them or I'll start to worry about them." After a while I said, "Let's go on if you're rested."
"I'm rested."
We went on down the road.
It was dark now and the snow squeaked under our boots.
The night was dry and cold and very clear.
"I love your beard," Catherine said. "It's a great success.
It looks so stiff and fierce and it's very soft and a great pleasure."
"Do you like it better than without?"
"I think so.
You know, darling, I'm not going to cut my hair now until after young Catherine's born.
I look too big and matronly now.
But after she's born and I'm thin again I'm going to cut it and then I'll be a fine new and different girl for you.
We'll go together and get it cut, or I'll go alone and come and surprise you."
I did not say anything.
"You won't say I can't, will you?"
"No.
I think it would be exciting."
"Oh, you're so sweet.
And maybe I'd look lovely, darling, and be so thin and exciting to you and you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell," I said, "I love you enough now.
What do you want to do?
Ruin me?"
"Yes.
I want to ruin you."
"Good," I said, "that's what I want too."
40
We had a fine life.
We lived through the months of January and February and the winter was very fine and we were very happy.
There had been short thaws when the wind blew warm and the snow softened and the air felt like spring, but always the clear hard cold had come again and the winter had returned.
In March came the first break in the winter.
In the night it started raining.
It rained on all morning and turned the snow to slush and made the mountain-side dismal.
There were clouds over the lake and over the valley.
It was raining high up the mountain.
Catherine wore heavy overshoes and I wore Mr. Guttingen's rubber-boots and we walked to the station under an umbrella, through the slush and the running water that was washing the ice of the roads bare, to stop at the pub before lunch for a vermouth.
Outside we could hear the rain.
"Do you think we ought to move into town?"
"What do you think?" Catherine asked.
"If the winter is over and the rain keeps up it won't be fun up here.
How long is it before young Catherine?"
"About a month.
Perhaps a little more."
"We might go down and stay in Montreux."