hardly see and we went into the little inn by the station and swept each other off with a broom and sat on a bench and had vermouths.
“It is a big storm,” the barmaid said.
“Yes.”
“The snow is very late this year.”
“Yes.”
“Could I eat a chocolate bar?” Catherine asked. “Or is it too close to lunch? I’m always hungry.”
“Go on and eat one,” I said.
“I’ll take one with filberts,” Catherine said.
“They are very good,” the girl said, “I like them the best.”
“I’ll have another vermouth,” I said.
When we came out to start back up the road our track was filled in by the snow. There were only faint indentations where the holes had been. The snow blew in our faces so we could hardly see. We brushed off and went in to have lunch. Mr. Guttingen served the lunch.
“To-morrow there will be ski-ing,” he said. “Do you ski, Mr. Henry?”
“No. But I want to learn.”
“You will learn very easily. My boy will be here for Christmas and he will teach you.”
“That’s fine. When does he come?”
“To-morrow night.”
When we were sitting by the stove in the little room after lunch looking out the window at the snow coming down Catherine said, “Wouldn’t you like to go on a trip somewhere by yourself, darling, and be with men and ski?”
“No. Why should I?”
“I should think sometimes you would want to see other people besides me.”
“Do you want to see other people?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“I know. But you’re different. I’m having a child and that makes me contented not to do anything. I know I’m awfully stupid now and I talk too much and I think you ought to get away so you won’t be tired of me.”
“Do you want me to go away?”
“No. I want you to stay.”
“That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Come over here,” she said. “I want to feel the bump on your head. It’s a big bump.” She ran her finger over it. “Darling, would you like to grow a beard?”
“Would you like me to?”
“It might be fun. I’d like to see you with a beard.”
“All right. I’ll grow one. I’ll start now this minute. It’s a good idea. It will give me something to do.”
“Are you worried because you haven’t anything to do?”
“No. I like it. I have a fine life. Don’t you?”
“I have a lovely life. But I was afraid because I’m big now that maybe I was a bore to you.”
“Oh, Cat. You don’t know how crazy I am about you.”
“This way?”
“Just the way you are. I have a fine time. Don’t we have a good life?”
“I do, but I thought maybe you were restless.”
“No. Sometimes I wonder about the front and about people I know but I don’t worry. I don’t think about anything much.”
“Who do you wonder about?”
“About Rinaldi and the priest and lots of people I know. But I don’t think about them much. I don’t want to think about the war. I’m through with it.”
“What are you thinking about now?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes you were. Tell me.”
“I was wondering whether Rinaldi had the syphilis.”
“Was that all?”
“Yes.”
“Has he the syphilis?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m glad you haven’t. Did you ever have anything like that?”
“I had gonorrhea.”
“I don’t want to hear about it. Was it very painful, darling?”
“Very.”
“I wish I’d had it.”
“No you don’t.”
“I do. I wish I’d had it to be like you. I wish I’d stayed with all your girls so I could make fun of them to you.”
“That’s a pretty picture.”
“It’s not a pretty picture you having gonorrhea.”
“I know it. Look at it snow now.”
“I’d rather look at you. Darling, why don’t you let your hair grow?”
“How grow?”
“Just grow a little longer.”
“It’s long enough now.”
“No, let it grow a little longer and I could cut mine and we’d be just alike only one of us blonde and one of us dark.”
“I wouldn’t let you cut yours.”
“It would be fun. I’m tired of it. It’s an awful nuisance in the bed at night.”
“I like it.”
“Wouldn’t you like it short?”
“I might. I like it the way it is.”
“It might be nice short. Then we’d both be alike. Oh, darling, I want you so much I want to be you too.”
“You are. We’re the same one.”
“I know it. At night we are.”
“The nights are grand.”
“I want us to be all mixed up. I don’t want you to go away. I just said that. You go if you want to. But hurry right back. Why, darling, I don’t live at all when I’m not with you.”
“I won’t ever go away,” I said. “I’m no good when you’re not there. I haven’t any life at all any more.”
“I want you to have a life. I want you to have a fine life. But we’ll have it together, won’t we?”
“And now do you want me to stop growing my beard or let it go on?”
“Go on. Grow it. It will be exciting. Maybe it will be done for New Year’s.”
“Now do you want to play chess?”
“I’d rather play with you.”
“No. Let’s play chess.”
“And afterward we’ll play?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
I got out the chess-board and arranged the pieces. It was still snowing hard outside.
One time in the night I woke up and knew that Catherine was awake too. The moon was shining in the window and made shadows on the bed from the bars on the window-panes.
