And thought, not for the first time, that vanity is so great a blessing
to women that it should be listed among the major virtues. Recollection
that the last time Noel ever saw me, I was wearing a bright red dress
from Paris, with a hat that matched it precisely, and a brand-new grey
Krimmer coat, would be some comfort to me, always. That might be absurd.
It was none the less profoundly true.
I went back to his apartment, and put fresh logs on the fire. He came
in.
“You’re looking very lovely, Pat,” he said. “Have you decided where
you’d like to dine?”
“Dante’s, I think.”
“Grand idea . . . and we’ll have crabmeat ravigotte and filet mignon and
Chianti and crêpes Suzette. . . .”
* * * * *
We had an evening, and a night, and a morning, left to spend. We spent
them as gaily as we had spent a hundred others. We pretended to each
other that this evening and night and morning, were just like all the
others.
We pretended so successfully, that, on the way to his train I felt that
I was just seeing Noel off on another out-of-town assignment.
As always, he took me through the train-gates, at the Grand Central
(although non-passengers are supposed to make their parting speeches
outside the gates) so that we could talk a little longer. As always, I
watched the porter arrange his baggage. As always, we walked out onto
the platform, and Noel gave me a cigarette.
But I found that I couldn’t hold my cigarette, steadily, beside this
train. So I threw it away, and Noel threw his away.