The Graduate by Charles Webb Page B

“You go to hell,” he said. He shook his head and walked back to the chair to pick up his shirt. “You go straight to hell, Mrs.Robinson.”
    “Benjamin?”
    “Do you think I’m proud of myself?” he said, throwing the shirt down on the rug and walking back to stand in front of her. “Do you think I’m proud of this?”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “Well, I am not.”
    “You’re not.”
    “No sir,” he said. “I am not proud that I spend my time in hotel rooms with a broken-down alcoholic!”
    “I see.”
    “And if you think I come here for any reason besides pure boredom, then you’re all wrong.”
    She nodded.
    “Because—Mrs. Robinson?”
    “What.”
    “You make me sick! I make myself sick! This is the sickest, most perverted thing that ever happened to me!” He stared down at her a moment. “And you do what you want but I’m getting the hell out.”
    “Are you?”
    “You’re goddamn right I am,” he said. He turned around, picked up his shirt from the floor and slid his arms into its sleeves. Mrs. Robinson sat up on the edge of the bed and watched him as he buttoned it and tucked the shirttails into his pants.
    “Benjamin?” she said.
    He shook his head.
    “Did you mean those things you said, Benjamin?”

    The Graduate
    101
    “You are damn right I did.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said.
    “Well, I am too. But that’s the way it is.”
    “That’s how you feel about me.”
    He nodded.
    “That I’m a sick and disgusting person,” she said, looking down at the rug.
    Benjamin finished tucking in his shirttails, then looked at her. “Now don’t start this,” he said.
    “What?”
    “Don’t start acting hurt.”
    “Don’t you expect me to be a little hurt?”
    “Now Mrs. Robinson,” he said, pointing at her. “You told me yourself that you were an alcoholic.”
    She nodded. “And sick and disgusting,” she said.
    “Now wait a minute,” he said. “You stand there and call me trash.
    What do you expect me to say.”
    “Did I call you that?”
    “You did.”
    “I don’t think so,” she said.
    “Well in so many words, Mrs. Robinson. You stand there and tell me I’m not good enough for your daughter.”
    “Did I say that?”
    “Of course you did.”
    She shook her head.
    “What?”
    “Benjamin,” she said, “I want to apologize to you if that’s the impression you got.”
    “Well Mrs. Robinson,” he said. “Two minutes ago you told me I wasn’t good enough for your daughter. Now you say you’re sorry I got that impression.”

    The Graduate
    102
    “I didn’t mean it,” she said.
    “What?”
    “I don’t think you’d be right for each other,” she said. “But I would never say you weren’t as good a person as she is.”
    “You wouldn’t.”
    “Of course I wouldn’t.”
    Mrs. Robinson waited a moment, then stood and walked to the closet to remove her hanger of clothes.
    “What are you doing.”
    “Well it’s pretty obvious you don’t want me around any more,”
    she said.
    “Well look,” Benjamin said. “I was kind of upset there. I’m sorry I said those things.”
    “Benjamin, if that’s how you feel—”
    “But it’s not.”
    “That’s all right,” she said, smiling at him. “I think I can understand why I’m disgusting to you.”
    “Oh no,” Benjamin said. He hurried across the room. “Look,” he said, taking her arm. “I like you. I wouldn’t keep coming here if I didn’t like you.”
    “But if it’s sickening for you—”
    “It’s not!” he said. “I enjoy it. I look forward to it. It’s the one thing I have to look forward to.”
    “You don’t have to say that.”
    “Well I wouldn’t. I would never say it if it wasn’t true.”
    “May I stay then?” she said.
    “Yes. Please. I want you to.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Well don’t thank me, because I want you to.”
    She lifted the hanger back into the closet. “But you won’t ever take out Elaine, will you.”
    “What?”

    The Graduate
    103
    “I want you