or âpublicââ¦? I wish I believed that. Iâd give up fighting it, if I thought it was an impossible fight to win. Iâd let myself go, either into the past or into the public life, you know, that fantasy of oneâs life as a movie, or a TV series, or maybe a Time magazine cover storyâ¦
âWhich appeals to you more?
âI donât know, to be honest about it. Today, seeing you, here, on an early spring morning, with all this hushed, tasteful luxury around us, I think I prefer the past. But any other time, when the associations arenât so strong and arenât especially pleasant anyhow, well, then I prefer the other.
âBut never this, this life now, here, the real oneâ¦?
âNo, I suppose not. But I canât imagine it any different from the way it isâI can only fantasy a different life, my old life, with you, or as someone else altogether, someone created by the public, as a kind of community effort, you knowâ¦? Thatâs how bitter I am.
(Both Egress and Naomi Ruth break into nervous laughter.)
âWell, I donât suppose we should have breakfast together, do you? The painâ¦
âWe might be seen by a columnist, you know. The Green Tulip Room is not exactly your cozy, little, out-of-the-way café. We donât need any more gossip than weâve already endured, do we, now? As it is, by the time you get back to your apartment, or wherever youâre living now, youâll flip on the radio or TV, only to hear that Egress and Naomi Ruth âaccidentallyâ met in the lobby of the Plaza outside the Green Tulip Room, spoke quietly together for a few moments, and then went their separate ways, etc. Where are you living now, incidentally? In the city?
âYes. As a matter of fact, Iâve been staying right here at the Plazaâall winter.
âAmazing.
âYes.
âYes, well, good-bye, now⦠Itâs been ⦠odd.
â Hasnât it! But pleasant, too. Weâll have to do it again, sometimeâ¦
âYes. Well, good-bye.
âGood-bye.
âGood-bye.
âYes. âBye.
ââBye.
âSo long.
â Ciao.
â Ciao.
âTra.
âLa.
7.
(A T THE P ARTY )
Â
They spotted each other at the same instant on opposite sides of the crowded, smoke-draped room and made their respective ways through the crowd, holding their cocktail glasses over their heads so as not to spill, excusing themselves with careful graciousness as they stepped on toes, crunched corsages, bumped breasts, kicked canes, until they finally were together, breathless, in the center of the room, light peck on the cheek, sip from the drink as eyes appraise each otherâs bodies, faces, clothes, cigarettes lit, puffing, smiling nod to acquaintance nearby, appreciative and only slightly critical analysis of the posh apartmentâs décor, and, at last,
âWell, I didnât expect to run into you here! Naomi Ruth said in a hard but gay voice.
âAnd I didnât expect to run into you here ! Egress countered.
âJesus, Egress, we canât seem to say anything new to one another, can we?
âNot at this level, mâlove. Thereâs lots we could say if we werenât so obsessively intent on discussing our failed marriage every time we happened to meet.
âI know, she said sadly.
âToo bad we canât fuck, he said.âBy God, then weâd have something new to talk about!
âYes.
âI know.
âYes.
âUm. Well, itâs been âreal,â as they sayâ¦
âYes. Did you come alone? she asked him.
âOh, no, no, no. No, I came with a âfriend.â
âYes, she said, believing him.âThe dancer. The young Russian girl. I remember.
âYou alone? he queried idly.
âNo, no. No, Iâm not. Well, good-bye, Egress, she said hurriedly, and started to pull away from the center of the room.
âGood-bye! he called after her.
A
âWhich appeals to you more?
âI donât know, to be honest about it. Today, seeing you, here, on an early spring morning, with all this hushed, tasteful luxury around us, I think I prefer the past. But any other time, when the associations arenât so strong and arenât especially pleasant anyhow, well, then I prefer the other.
âBut never this, this life now, here, the real oneâ¦?
âNo, I suppose not. But I canât imagine it any different from the way it isâI can only fantasy a different life, my old life, with you, or as someone else altogether, someone created by the public, as a kind of community effort, you knowâ¦? Thatâs how bitter I am.
(Both Egress and Naomi Ruth break into nervous laughter.)
âWell, I donât suppose we should have breakfast together, do you? The painâ¦
âWe might be seen by a columnist, you know. The Green Tulip Room is not exactly your cozy, little, out-of-the-way café. We donât need any more gossip than weâve already endured, do we, now? As it is, by the time you get back to your apartment, or wherever youâre living now, youâll flip on the radio or TV, only to hear that Egress and Naomi Ruth âaccidentallyâ met in the lobby of the Plaza outside the Green Tulip Room, spoke quietly together for a few moments, and then went their separate ways, etc. Where are you living now, incidentally? In the city?
âYes. As a matter of fact, Iâve been staying right here at the Plazaâall winter.
âAmazing.
âYes.
âYes, well, good-bye, now⦠Itâs been ⦠odd.
â Hasnât it! But pleasant, too. Weâll have to do it again, sometimeâ¦
âYes. Well, good-bye.
âGood-bye.
âGood-bye.
âYes. âBye.
ââBye.
âSo long.
â Ciao.
â Ciao.
âTra.
âLa.
7.
(A T THE P ARTY )
Â
They spotted each other at the same instant on opposite sides of the crowded, smoke-draped room and made their respective ways through the crowd, holding their cocktail glasses over their heads so as not to spill, excusing themselves with careful graciousness as they stepped on toes, crunched corsages, bumped breasts, kicked canes, until they finally were together, breathless, in the center of the room, light peck on the cheek, sip from the drink as eyes appraise each otherâs bodies, faces, clothes, cigarettes lit, puffing, smiling nod to acquaintance nearby, appreciative and only slightly critical analysis of the posh apartmentâs décor, and, at last,
âWell, I didnât expect to run into you here! Naomi Ruth said in a hard but gay voice.
âAnd I didnât expect to run into you here ! Egress countered.
âJesus, Egress, we canât seem to say anything new to one another, can we?
âNot at this level, mâlove. Thereâs lots we could say if we werenât so obsessively intent on discussing our failed marriage every time we happened to meet.
âI know, she said sadly.
âToo bad we canât fuck, he said.âBy God, then weâd have something new to talk about!
âYes.
âI know.
âYes.
âUm. Well, itâs been âreal,â as they sayâ¦
âYes. Did you come alone? she asked him.
âOh, no, no, no. No, I came with a âfriend.â
âYes, she said, believing him.âThe dancer. The young Russian girl. I remember.
âYou alone? he queried idly.
âNo, no. No, Iâm not. Well, good-bye, Egress, she said hurriedly, and started to pull away from the center of the room.
âGood-bye! he called after her.
A
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