Triple Read Free Page A

never see him- again."
    "Do you know what happened to him?" Ashford said. "He doesn't say much . .
    ."
    Cortone shrugged. "He survived the camps."
    "He was fortunate."
    "Was he?"
    Ashford looked at Cortone for a moment, confused, then turned away and
    looked around the room. After a moment he said, 'This is not a very typical
    Oxford gathering, you know. Dickstein, Rostov and Hassan are somewhat
    unusual students. You should meet Toby-he's the archetypal undergraduate."
    He caught the eye of a red-faced youth, in a tweed suit and a very wide
    paisley tie. "Toby, come and meet Dickstein's comrade-in-arms-Mr. Cortone."
    Toby shook hands and said abruptly, "Any chance of a tip from the stable?
    Will Dickstein win?"
    'Tvrin whatr'Cortone said.
    Ashford explained, "Dickstein and Rostov are to play a chess match-they're
    both supposed to be terribly good. Toby think you might have inside
    information-he probably wants to bet on the outcome."
    Cortone said, "I thought chess was an old man's game."
    Toby said, "Ahl" rather loudly, and emptied his glass. He and Ashford
    seemed nonplussed by Cortone's remark. A little girl, four or five years
    old, came in from the garden carrying
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Ken Folleff
    an elderly gray cat Ashford introduced her with the coy pride of a man who
    has become a father in middle age.
    'This is Suza," he said.
    The girl said, "And this is Hezekiah."
    She had her mother's skin and hair; she too would be beautiful. Cortone
    wondered whether she was really Ashford's daughter. There was nothing of
    him in her looks. She held out the cats paw, and Cortone obligingly shook
    it and said,"How are you, Hezeldah?"
    Suza went over to Dickstein. "Good morning, Nat. Would you like to stroke
    Hezeklah?"
    "She's very cute," Cortone said to Ashford. "I have to talk to Nat. Would
    you excuse me?" He went over to Dickstein, who was kneeling down and
    stroking the cat.
    Nat and Suza seemed to be pals. He told her, "This is my friend Alan."
    "We've met," she said, and fluttered her eyelashes. Cortone thought: She
    learned that from her mother.
    "We were in the war together," Dickstein continued.
    Suza looked directly at Cortone. "Did you kill people?"
    He hesitated. "Sure."
    "Do you feel bad about it?"
    "Not too bad. They were wicked people."
    "Nat feels bad about it. Thairs why he doesn't like to talk about it too
    much."
    The kid had got more out of Dickstein than all the grown
    ups put together. I
    The cat jumped out of Suza's arms with surprising agility. She chased
    after it. Dickstein stood up.
    "I wouldn't say Mrs. Ashford is out of reach," Cortone said quietly.
    "Wouldn't you?" Dickstein said.
    "She can7t be more than twenty-five. He's at least twenty years older,
    and I'll bet he's no pistol. If they got married before the war, she must
    have been around seventeen at the time. And they don't seem
    affectionate."
    "I wish I could believe you," Dickstein said. He was not as interested
    as he should have been. "Come and see the garden."
    They went through the French doors. The sun was stronger, and the bitter
    cold had gone from the air. The garden
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    stretched in a green-and-brown wilderness down to the edge of the river.
    They walked away from the house.
    Dickstein said, "You don't much like this crowd."
    "The war's over," Cortone said. "You and me, we live, in different worlds
    now. All this-professors, chess matches, sherry parties ... I might as
    well be on Mars. My life is doing deals, fighting off the competition,
    making a few bucks. I was fixing to offer you a job in my business, but
    I guess rd be wasting my time."
    "Alan. . ."
    Listen, what the hell. Well probably lose touch now-rm not much of a
    letter writer. But I wont forget that I owe you my life. One of these
    days you might want to call in the debt. You know where to find me."
    Dickstein opened his mouth to speak, then they heard the voices.
    I,Oh . . . no, not here, not now . . ." It was a woman.
    "Yesl" A man.
    Dickstein and Cortone were standing