Those Who Walk Away Read Online Free PDF

asked.
    “No. No, really, on the contrary—He’s coming back.”
    “Can you leave Venice tomorrow?
    “No,I—”
    “I must see you tomorrow. Eleven o’clock at Florian’s?”
    Ray had no time to answer, as Coleman was sitting down, but he gave her a nod. It was easier than refusing.
    “Our waiter is so busy,” said Inez, with convincing exasperation as if they’d been trying to get him all the while.
    “Jesus God!” Coleman said with a sigh, squirming around in his chair. “Cameriere! Conto, per favore!”
    Ray pulled out two thousand-lire notes, more than his share.
    “Put that away,” said Coleman.
    “No, I insist,” Ray said, repocketing his wallet.
    “Put it away, I said,” Coleman said rudely. He was paying, no doubt with money Inez had given him at some time.
    Ray said nothing. He stood up. “I’ll say good night, if I may.” He made a bow to Inez. Then he got his coat from the hook. It was the coat, the only overcoat he had with him, in which the two bullet-holes were in the left sleeve, but the coat was almost black, the holes not very noticeable. He raised his left arm and smiled as he departed.

4
    T he morning was brilliant with sunshine. Below Ray’s pensione window, workmen sang as if it were spring or summer, a cleaning girl sang as she mopped the hall outside his door, and a bird in a cage sang in a window of the Embassy of Monaco across the small canal.
    When Ray left the pensione at ten-thirty to meet Inez, he had two letters in his pocket, one to his parents and one to their gardener Benson, who had written him a note of sympathy to Mallorca. To his parents Ray had written his. thanks for their asking him to come home for a while, but said that he had business still to do in Europe, and that he thought it best to get down to work with Bruce Main on the New York gallery. It was an answer to the second letter his parents had written him, after he had cabled and written them about Peggy. He went to a tobacco shop under the arcade of the Piazza, bought stamps, and dropped the letters into a box outside. He was ten minutes early. He walked slowly about the square, until he at last saw Inez walking briskly in high heels, a small trim figure, coming from the San Moise corner.
    “Good morning!” he said, before she saw him.
    “Oh!” She stopped. “Hello. Am I late?”
    “No. In fact you’re early,” Ray said, smiling.
    A pigeon banked low above her head, its wings creaking. Inez had a small yellow hat of feathers, with a few peacock feathers at one side. In the sunlight, Ray saw the wrinkles under her eyes, and the deeper ones on either side of her mouth. They did not in the least diminish her attractiveness.
    Ray thought. He wondered if such a woman might ever be interested in him as her lover, and he felt a wave of inferiority which he could not lift by telling himself it was irrational. A woman like Inez might like him very much because he was younger, and because she would be flattered.
    There were not many tables outdoors at Florian’s, and those few who sat there wore coats and mufflers.
    Ray held Inez’s chair for her.
    She wanted simply a café.
    “Well,” she said when they had ordered. She had planted her forearms flat on the table, elbows spread, her fingers in pumpkin coloured suède gloves locked. “I repeat, I would like you to leave Venice. Today, if you can.”
    The cold, clear air made her words crisp, too. They were both smiling. It was impossible not to smile on such a morning and in such a place. “Well, perhaps I can leave tomorrow. I’m quite willing.”
    “You want to talk to Edward, but I tell you it’s no use. You could produce a diary of Peggy’s with the whole truth, whatever that is, and Edward would still believe what he wishes to believe.” She had removed one glove now, and she gestured passionately to emphasize her words.
    “I do know what you’re saying. I understand, but—” Ray adjusted his trenchcoat under him and leaned forward. “I