There's no object in anything.
What do we live for, I'd like to know."
I could not help laughing, he sat there so miserable and took it all in such grim earnest. "You silly ass," said I. "Why, now you've found out something.
Do you suppose you're alone in your wonderful wisdom?
Of course there's no object.
One doesn't live for a purpose, anyway.
It's not so simple as that these days.
Come, you get dressed.
You're coming along to the International with me.
We're going to celebrate your coming of age.
You've been a schoolboy up to now.
I'm collecting you in half an hour."
"No," said he.
He was damned far gone.
"Oh, yes you are," said I. "You're going to do me the favour.
I don't want to be by myself to-night."
He looked at me doubtfully.
"If you like," he replied then despondently. "After all what does it matter."
"There, you see," said I, "already that's quite a good election slogan for a beginner."
At seven o'clock I put through the call to Pat.
After seven the fee was half, so I could talk twice as long.
I sat on the table in the hall and waited.
I didn't want to go into the kitchen.
It smelt too much there of haricot beans, and I didn't want to associate Pat with that.
A quarter of an hour later the call came through.
Pat was at the instrument immediately.
As I heard her warm, deep, slightly hesitant voice so close beside me, I became so excited I could hardly speak.
It was a sort of tremour, a boiling of the blood, against which no effort of the will availed anything. . . .
"My God, Pat," said I, "are you really there?"
She laughed.
"Where are you then, Robby?
At the office?"
"No, I'm sitting on the table at Frau Zalewski's.
How are you?"
"Well, darling."
"Are you up?"
"Yes.
I'm sitting on the window seat in my room and have my white bathing dress on.
It's snowing outside."
I suddenly saw her clearly before me.
I saw the snowflakes whirling, I saw the fine, dark head, the straight shoulders, inclined slightly forward, the bronzed skin.
"My word, Pat," said I, "this damned money.
If it weren't for that I'd be sitting in an aeroplane now and arrive there before the night's out." "Ach, darling—"
She was silent.
I listened in to the light scratching and humming of the wire.
"Are you there still, Pat?"
"Yes, Robby.
But you mustn't say things like that.
It made me quite giddy."
"I feel damned giddy, too," said I. "Tell me everything you do up there."