U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [294]
After they had eaten they were sitting over some glasses of wine, when they heard an American voice. Two M.P.'s had come in and were having a drink at the zinc bar.
"Don't talk English," whispered Paul. They sat there stiffly trying to look as French as possible until the two khaki uniforms disappeared, then Paul said, "Whee, I was scared .
. . they'd picked me up sure as hel if they'd found me without my uniform. . . . Then it'd have been the Roo Saint Anne and goodby Paree." "Why, you poor kid, they'd have shot you at sunrise," said Eveline. "You go right home and change your clothes at once . . . I'm going to the Red Cross for a while anyway."
Don walked over to the rue de Rivoli with her. Paul shot off down another street to go to his room and get his uniform. "I think Paul Johnson's an awful y nice boy, where did you col ect him, Don?" Eveline said in a casual tone. "He's kinder simple . . . unlicked cub kind of a kid . . . I guess he's al right . . . I got to know him when the transport section he was in was bil eted near us up in the Marne . . . Then he got this cush job in the Post Despatch Service and now he's studying at the Sor--326-bonne. . . . By God, he needs it
. . . no social ideas
. . . Paul stil thinks it was the stork."
"He must come from near where you came from . . . back home, I mean."
"Yare, his dad owns a grain elevator in some little tank town or other . . . petit bourgeois .
. . bum en-vironment . . . He's not a bad kid in spite of it . . . Damn shame he hasn't read Marx, something to stiffen his ideas up." Don made a funny face. "That goes with you too, Eveline, but I gave you up as hopeless long ago. Ornamental but not useful." They'd stopped and were talking on the streetcorner under the arcade. "Oh, Don, I think your ideas are just too tiresome," she began. He interrupted, "Wel , solong, here comes a bus
. . . I oughtn't to ride on a scab bus but it's too damn far to walk al the way to the Bastil e." He gave her a kiss.
"Don't be sore at me." Eveline waved her hand, "Have a good time in Vienna, Don." He jumped on the platform of the bus as it rumbled past. The last Eveline saw the woman conductor was trying to push him off because the bus was complet.
She went up to her office and tried to look as if she'd been there al day. At a little before six she walked up the street to the Cril on and went up to see J.W. Everything was as usual there, Miss Wil iams looking chil y and yel owhaired at her desk, Morton stealthily handing around tea and petit fours, J.W. deep in talk with a personage in a cutaway in the embrasure of the window, halfhidden by the heavy champagnecolored drapes, Eleanor in a pearlgrey afternoon dress Eveline had never seen before, chatting chirpily with three young staffofficers in front of the fireplace. Eveline had a cup of tea and talked about something or other with Eleanor for a mo-ment, then she said she had an engagement and left. In the anteroom she caught Miss Wil iams' eye as she
-327-passed. She stopped by her desk a momen: "Busy as ever, Miss Wil iams," she said.
"It's better to be busy," she said. "It keeps a person out of mischief . . . It seems to me that in Paris they waste a great, deal of time . . . I never imagined that there could be a place where people could sit around idle so much of the time."
"The French value their leisure more than anything."
"Leisure's al right if you have something to do with it . . . but this social life wastes so much of our time . . . People come to lunch and stay al afternoon, I don't know what we can do about it . . . it makes a very difficult situa-tion." Miss Wil iams looked hard at Eveline. "I don't suppose you have much to do down at the Red Cross any more, do you, Miss Hutchins?"
Eveline smiled sweetly. "No, we just live for our leisure like the French." She walked across the wide asphalt spaces of the place de la Concorde, without knowing quite what to do with herself, and turned up the Champs Elysées where the horsechestnuts were just coming into flower. The general strike seemed to be about over, because there were a few cabs on the streets. She sat down on a bench and a cadaver-ous looking individual in a frock coat sat down beside her and tried to pick her up. She got up and walked as fast as she could. At the Rond Point she had to stop to wait for a bunch of French mounted artil ery and two seventyfives to go past before she could cross the street. The cadaver-ous man was beside her; he turned and held out his hand, tipping his hat as he did so, as if he was an old friend. She muttered, "Oh, it's just too tiresome," and got into a horsecab that was standing by the curb. She almost thought the man was going to get in too, but he just stood looking after her scowling as the cab drove off fol owing the guns as if she was part of the regiment.