The house was really too large for me, but this room was ideal. For a time I’d busied myself with improvements, moving the water closet indoors, installing a shower; but then I’d given up and left the other rooms vacant until Fritz had moved in the year before. I slept in the one upstairs room, directly overhead.
From outside came the sound of a carriage drawing up, and laughter, and in a moment Marcel entered with Paul and Tania.
“Don’t bother getting up,” said Paul. “Just bring a beer for the hero. Fritz!” he yelled. “Fritz!”
Tania crossed over to me and kissed me after she’d sat down. “He really was terrific! The horse bolted and was starting to run as we met Paul down the road, and he jumped on its back like a red Indian and calmed it.”
“It was nothing—really, I assure you—that any American couldn’t do. Riding on the plains for days at a time with only stale bread and . . .”
Marcel was laughing. “Sure, Paul, sure. Fritz, bring him his beer before he tells us about fighting the Indians.”
The beer arrived and the newcomers drank.
Paul Anser stood grinning in the middle of the room. He wore his “flyer’s jacket,” as he called it, a leather affair with a woolen collar; heavy boots; pants that looked to be made out of canvas.
“What a night,” he said, “and hello everyone. Your beer is getting no worse, Jules. Are we late? Is there time to catch up with Henri?”
Henri smiled. “Only my second,” he lied.
“Ah. Fritz—how are you, Fritz?—two more beers, please. Mustn’t let Henri get the jump on me.”
Marcel took Paul’s jacket, and they both sat—Marcel on the divan with Tania and me, and Paul next to the entrance to the kitchen.
“There must be something in the air,” I said. “Henri just said it was a fine night to get drunk.”
“Well, by God, let’s get to it.” Paul poured his second beer.
“Hear, hear,” said Tania, surprisingly, “and then Paul can read for us.”
“Alcohol can’t hurt my accent. When I slur I sound more French.”
“Hardly more French,” said Georges, “possibly less American.” And we all laughed.
I leaned back with my arm around Tania and listened to the banter, trying to find a good moment to tell them we would have a new guest. We were so relaxed now together that I almost regretted having invited Lupa, but I’d had the same doubts about Georges, and they’d proven groundless. I was finding it difficult to divorce business from my day-today life when living at home. The people I met socially had always been friends, and though I liked Lupa, my motive for inviting him was certainly not friendship.
