All the Sad Young Men by F. Scott Fitzgerald Read Free Book Online Page B

settled, but if you can stand that--"
    Hagerty confirmed the invitation cordially.
    "Come out for the night."
    Their car waited in front of the hotel, and Paula with a tired gesture sank back against silk cushions in the corner.
    "There's so much I want to talk to you about," she said, "it seems hopeless."
    "I want to hear about you."
    "Well"--she smiled at Hagerty--"that would take a long time too. I have three children--by my first marriage. The oldest is five, then four, then three." She smiled again. "I didn't waste much time having them, did I?"
    "Boys?"
    "A boy and two girls. Then--oh, a lot of things happened, and I got a divorce in Paris a year ago and married Pete. That's all-- except that I'm awfully happy."
    In Rye they drove up to a large house near the Beach Club, from which there issued presently three dark, slim children who broke from an English governess and approached them with an esoteric cry. Abstractedly and with difficulty Paula took each one into her arms, a caress which they accepted stiffly, as they had evidently been told not to bump into Mummy. Even against their fresh faces Paula's skin showed scarcely any weariness--for all her physical languor she seemed younger than when he had last seen her at Palm Beach seven years ago.
    At dinner she was preoccupied, and afterward, during the homage to the radio, she lay with closed eyes on the sofa, until Anson wondered if his presence at this time were not an intrusion. But at nine o'clock, when Hagerty rose and said pleasantly that he was going to leave them by themselves for a while, she began to talk slowly about herself and the past.
    "My first baby," she said--"the one we call Darling, the biggest little girl--I wanted to die when I knew I was going to have her, because Lowell was like a stranger to me. It didn't seem as though she could be my own. I wrote you a letter and tore it up. Oh, you were SO bad to me, Anson."
    It was the dialogue again, rising and falling. Anson felt a sudden quickening of memory.
    "Weren't you engaged once?" she asked--"a girl named Dolly something?"
    "I wasn't ever engaged. I tried to be engaged, but I never loved anybody but you, Paula."
    "Oh," she said. Then after a moment: "This baby is the first one I ever really wanted. You see, I'm in love now--at last."
    He didn't answer, shocked at the treachery of her remembrance. She must have seen that the "at last" bruised him, for she continued:
    "I was infatuated with you, Anson--you could make me do anything you liked. But we wouldn't have been happy. I'm not smart enough for you. I don't like things to be complicated like you do." She paused. "You'll never settle down," she said.
    The phrase struck at him from behind--it was an accusation that of all accusations he had never merited.
    "I could settle down if women were different," he said. "If I didn't understand so much about them, if women didn't spoil you for other women, if they had only a little pride. If I could go to sleep for a while and wake up into a home that was really mine-- why, that's what I'm made for, Paula, that's what women have seen in me and liked in me. It's only that I can't get through the preliminaries any more."
    Hagerty came in a little before eleven; after a whiskey Paula stood up and announced that she was going to bed. She went over and stood by her husband.
    "Where did you go, dearest?" she demanded.
    "I had a drink with Ed Saunders."
    "I was worried. I thought maybe you'd run away."
    She rested her head against his coat.
    "He's sweet, isn't he, Anson?" she demanded.
    "Absolutely," said Anson, laughing.
    She raised her face to her husband.
    "Well, I'm ready," she said. She turned to Anson: "Do you want to see our family gymnastic stunt?"
    "Yes," he said in an interested voice.
    "All right. Here we go!"
    Hagerty picked her up easily in his arms.
    "This is called the family acrobatic stunt," said Paula. "He carries me up-stairs. Isn't it sweet of him?"
    "Yes," said Anson.
    Hagerty bent his head