"Will he be killed? You think so?”
He had a chance in the artillery!.. Ah! I point out to her, he might come back! I tell her frankly..
"What about you? Aren’t you going back?" she suddenly snaps! the bitch!
"Listen! Take it easy, you tramp!” I answer.. "Listen! I’ve just come back!.. Cool off! ”
"But you’re still good, darling!.. You’ve still got some pieces left!”
She had it in for men!..
"War’s a fine thing!.. a fine thing!.. Just look at that!”
A squad of khaki was passing in front of the windows.. and behind them a whole fanfare!.. The Guard Band on the way to Buckingham! The changing of the palace guard.
"Say! They’re good-looking! They get me hot!.. Say, does your arm still hurt?”
I’d spoken to her about my wounds..
"What about your head? You got a bullet in it, didn’t you?”
"Oh! a very small one! ”
"Oh! a wise guy!”.. suddenly she thinks I’m funny!.. She bursts out laughing, so high and so shrill, about the bullet in my head that everyone turns around… all the customers at the counter.
"Come here so I can kiss you, you poor fish!.. You’ve got no luck! You’re behind the times!”
That’s what she thinks of me!
"But I’m way ahead of the times!”
She was getting me sore!..
"God! you’re as big a jerk as Fatso!.. You’re no house afire!. Still and all you’re less conceited. Why don’t you go back to Cascade’s?… It’s a good place! ”
Ah! she was dead set on that.
"He’d’ve given you whatever you wanted!” she continues, she’s handing me a line!.. "Without even asking!.. just for yourself!.. you’d’ve been in the dough!.. He’s got more girls than he wants!.. You’d’ve got along!.. ’d’ve had it soft!
He had nothing against you!. You didn’t fight with him?
.. Didn’t you ever try to take away Angele just for the hell of it sometimes? She’s a real grandma!.. Boy, she’s had plenty between the legs, from the Bastille to Rio! Just imagine the racket! And the garrisons besides! with Nougat, her first guy!
.. My boy!.. a real hustler!.. Let me tell you!.. Steel-ass!
.. That’s what they called her at the Reole… at the Petit Soupir.. almost twelve years ago!.. I had my share, too!.. Why talk about it!.. I won’t go complaining!.. I’m frank! I admit! I can take it! I’m not scared of men! Though I like twats better, of course!.. But the god-damned things are the injections! Boy, I’m awful about that! Boy, I’m telling you, I hate going to the doctor!.. 44 in a row, you realize, right in the ass!. Used to pass out after every shot!. Say, I thought I’d croak!.. God, I was crapping green!.. Say d’you think syph can be cured?”
The Englishwomen from the provinces who were drinking their tea screwed up their snooty noses. They suspected the sort of Frenchwoman she was.. Finette started making eyes at them, they immediately turned away their heads.. Just "snacks” in the station restaurants. especially Waterloo, there’s an enormous number of people and of all kinds.. besides, of course, the servicemen… to and from Flanders!.. A stream of khaki!.. Finette started thinking of her girlfriend again..
"Fernande’s not loafing either!. Especially now that she’s doing the Empire. We’re sure going to be happy! The two of us all by ourselves!.. We’ll send Fatso big juicy money orders!. Ah, our man! ah! the sweet trou-trou-badour!.. Life looks bright! It’s coming along great!.. He’s got to eat over there, you know! Fatso’s some eater!.. I want him to croak, but not of hunger.. First of all, you know she still likes him.. that’s a fact! I’m not kidding myself!.. imagine what a dope!.. She sings with him! you should hear them!.. When your big gentle eyes!. I don’t know what she sees in him!. Whenever he touches me, I gag. Still I’m no saint!
.. He just rubs me the wrong way!. It’s because he’s Fer-nande’s guy! It’s jealousy! That’s it!.. It’s only natural!.. What about you, aren’t you jealous?”
I admit I’m not very!. Ah! she doesn’t like that. Ah! that irks her! Just what am I, after all? She looks at me. up and down.. she can’t stomach me any more!
"Beat it!”. she snaps at me!. "Beat it, dope!”
Doesn’t want to see me any more!
"Pst! Pst! ” she calls from her stool.. she saw something outside… she calls through the door… a soldier on the prowl.. she runs after him. she jumps.. I’m alone again… I smile around vaguely… at the countergirls… no go… an aviator’s monopolizing them. they’re snickering and clucking. all right!. I’m going to sit down at a table. since I’m there… I start thinking things over again… I order a cup of coffee. another one. I just sit there. with a dazed look.. Someone signaling to me from outside through the glass. Don’t recognize who. couldn’t make it out. Ah! it’s the midget!.. Ten-paw Lou.. He’s spotted me.
"You doing the stations?” he asks. He’s getting a kick out of seeing me there..
His head reaches the edge of the table. To tell the truth he’s almost a dwarf.. he’s bowlegged..
"Say, things are bad!. Don’t you know what’s happening?… They’re talking about you at the Leicester.. Haven’t you read the Minor?”
No, I hadn’t read it..
"Well I’ll be damned!. Give me a penny!”
He goes out. he brings back the Mirror.. The whole page, a big photo. Oh! the old guy’s house!. the joint!.. the rubble!. it was called the "Greenwich Tragedy” in huge letters. the smoke. the ruins. the beams. everything! "Boy! Some hell of a sight!”
It’s funny, I couldn’t quite understand! I looked again.. just couldn’t figure it out. It seemed strange to me.
"Do you believe it?” I ask him. "You believe it?”
"Look!.. It’s written down! ”
"I don’t know,” I answer..
"Can’t you read English?”
He could read English well..
"Ah! go to hell, you don’t understand anything!” That’s his conclusion.. We start talking about something else… He was a cook at Barbe’s in Soho Square, also an "extra” at the Royal.. that way he could fool around the unions… in good standing!. but the dwarf was especially clever with cards!. His real racket!.. his magic! Ah! gambling? nothing he couldn’t do!. "Unionized”!. Could get in anywhere. He called all the chefs by their first names… all the London clubs.. He’d show them his terrific tricks with cards. at poker! at whist! Backgammon! unbeatable in shuffling!.. That’s why they called him Ten-paw.. No one saw him go in or out.. Just a quick little game!.. Let’s go, gentlemen! No higher than the table!. the midget. They’d put cushions under him so he could play at the right height… He amused the hostesses.. and always good-natured, easygoing. and also an "extra” at the races! ah! tipped-off like a pope! really inside stuff! Always three to "show” at the Derby!. at least!. In London 18 years! and dough laid aside!.. rejected because of his coat-sleeve legs. never a day in the army!
"But my fingers haven’t been rejected! That’s what counts in my game!”
Doesn’t hide the fact that he’s intelligent.
He’s terrific with his fingers, he’ll turn a single deck into ten or twelve right in front of your eyes! an acrobat with cards!.. He plays only with customers, never with friends… Ah! none of that! Out of the question!..
When he dropped in at the Leicester, right away it was "Into the kitchen, Ten-paw!”. Ah! no monkey-business! right away! go on! Ten-paw’s the boy for French fries!. no equal when it comes to souffles..
"Get to the frying pan, Ten-paw”.. they’d call from all over the house. all the girls!. "You’ll get kissed!”