U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [288]
. . . I fear that his advisers don't realize the importance of publicity, of taking the public into their confidence at every move. This is a great historical moment, America stands at the parting of the ways . . . without us the war would have ended in a German victory or a negotiated peace . . . And now our very al ies are trying to mon-opolize the natural resources of the world behind our backs.
. . . You remember what Rasmussen said . . . wel , he's quite right. The President is surrounded by sinister in-trigues. Why, even the presidents of the great corporations don't realize that now is the time to spend money, to spend it like water. I could have the French press in my pocket in a week with the proper resources, even in Eng-land I have a hunch that something could be done if it was handled the right way. And then the people are
ful y behind us everywhere, they are sick of autocracy and secret diplomacy, they are ready to greet American democ-racy, American democratic business methods with open arms. The only way for us to secure the benefits of the peace to the world is for us to dominate it. Mr. Wilson doesn't realize the power of a modern campaign of scien--312tific publicity . . . Why, for three weeks I've been trying to get an interview with him, and back in Washington I was cal ing him Woodrow, almost . . . It was at his per-sonal request that I dropped everything in New York at great personal sacrifice, brought over a large part of my office staff . . . and now . . . but Eveline, my dear girl, I'm afraid I'm talking you to death."
Eveline leaned over and patted his hand that lay on the edge of the table. Her eyes were shining, "Oh, it's wonderful," she said. "Isn't this fun, J.W.?"
"Ah, Eveline, I wish I was free to fal in love with you."
"Aren't we pretty free, J.W.? and it's wartime . . . I think al the conventional rubbish about marriage and everything is just too tiresome, don't you?"
"Ah, Eveline, if I was only free . . . let's go out and take a little air . . . Why, we've been here al afternoon." Eveline insisted on paying for the lunch although it took al the money she had on her. They both staggered a little as they left the restaurant, Eveline felt giddy and leaned against J.W.'s shoulder. He kept patting her hand and saying, "There, there, we'l take a little ride." Towards sunset they were riding around the end of the bay into Cannes. "Wel , wel , we must pul ourselves to-gether," said J.W. "You don't want to stay down here al alone, do you, little girl? Suppose you drive back to Paris with me, we'l stop off in some picturesque vil ages, make a trip of it. Too likely to meet people we know around here. I'l send back the staff car and hire a French car . . . take no chances."
"Al right, I think Nice is just too tiresome anyway."
J.W. cal ed to the chauffeur to go back to Nice. He dropped her at her hotel and saying he'd cal for her at ninethirty in the morning and that she must get a good night's sleep. She felt terribly let down after he'd gone; had a cup of tea that was cold and tasted of soap sent to
-313-her room; and went to bed. She lay in bed thinking that she was acting like a nasty little bitch; but it was too late to go back now. She couldn't sleep, her whole body felt jangled and twitching. This way she'd look like a wreck tomorrow, she got up and rustled around in her bag until she found some aspirin. She took a lot of the aspirin and got back in bed again and lay perfectly stil but she kept seeing faces that would grow clear out of the blur of a half-dream and then fade again, and her ears buzzed with long cadences of senseless talk. Sometimes it was Jerry Burn-ham's face that would bud out of the mists changing slowly into Mr. Rasmussen's or Edgar Robbins' or Paul Johnson's or Freddy Seargeant's. She got up and walked shivering up and down the room for a long time. Then she got into bed again and fel asleep and didn't wake up until the chambermaid knocked on the door saying that a gentleman was waiting for her.
When she got down J.W. was pacing up and down in
the sun outside the hotel door. A long lowslung Italian car was standing under the palms beside the geranium bed. They had coffee together without saying much at a little iron table outside the hotel. J.W. said he'd had a miserable room in a hotel where the service was poor.