Chapter XXXVIII
THEY ate lunch at the Gritti, and the girl had unwrapped the small ebony negro’s head and torso, and pinned it high on her left shoulder. It was about three inches long, and was quite lovely to look at if you liked that sort of thing. And if you don’t you are stupid, the Colonel thought.
But do not even think rough, he told himself. You have to be good now in every way until you say goodbye. What a word, he thought, good-bye.
It sounds like a Valentine slogan.
Good-bye and bonne chance and hasta la vista. We always just said merde and let it go at that. Farewell, he thought, that is a nice word. It sings well, he thought. Farewell, a long farewell and take it with you where you go. With handles, he thought.
“Daughter,” he said. “How long has it been since I told you that I loved you?”
