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ing now and looking outward and trying not to think about myself so much and I'm going to keep it up but we ought not to be in any town this time of year。 Maybe we'll go。 The whole way here I saw wonderful things to paint and I can't paint at all and never could。 But I know wonderful things to write and I can't even write a letter that isn't stupid。 I never wanted to be a painter nor a writer until I came to this country。 Now it's just like being hungry all the time and there's nothing you can ever do about it。〃
〃The country is here。 You don't have to do anything about it。 It's always here。 The Prado's here；〃 David said。
〃There's nothing except through yourself；〃 she said。 〃And I don't want to die and it be gone。
〃You have every mile we drove。 All the yellow country and the white hills and the chaff blowing and the long lines of poplars by the road。 You know what you saw and what you felt and it's yours。 Don't you have le Grau du Roi and Aigues Mortes and all the Camargue that we rode through on our bikes？ This will be the same。〃
〃But what about when I'm dead？〃
〃Then you're dead。〃
〃But I can't stand to be dead。〃
〃Then don't let it happen till it happens。 Look at things and listen and feel。〃
〃What if I can't remember？〃
He had spoken about death as though it did not matter。 She drank the wine and looked at the thick stone walls in which there were only small windows with bars high up that gave onto a narrow street where the sun did not shine。 The doorway； though； gave onto an arcade and the bright sunlight on the worn stones of the square。
〃When you start to live outside yourself；〃 Catherine said； 〃it's all dangerous。 Maybe I'd better go back into our world； your and my world that I made up； we made up I mean。 I was a great success in that world。 It was only four weeks ago。 I think maybe I will be again。〃
The salad came and then there was its greenness on the dark table and the sun on the plaza beyond the arcade。
〃Do you feel better？〃 David asked。
〃Yes；〃 she said。 〃I was thinking so much about myself that I was getting impossible again； like a painter and I was my own picture。 It was awful。 Now that I'm all right again I hope it still lasts。〃
It had rained hard and now the heat was broken。 They were in the cool shutter…slatted dimness of the big room in The Palace and had bathed together in the deep water in the long deep tub and then had turned the plug and let the full force of the water splash and flow over them； swirling as it drained away。 They had blotted each other with the huge towels and then come to the bed。 As they lay on the bed there was a cool breeze that came through the slats of the blinds and moved over them。 Catherine
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lay propped on her elbows with her chin on her hands。 〃Do you think it would be fun if I went back to being a boy again？ It wouldn't be any trouble。〃
〃I like you the way you are now。
〃It's sort of tempting。 But I shouldn't do it in Spain I suppose。 It's such a formal country。〃
〃Stay the way you are。
'What makes your voice be different when you say it？ I think I'll do it。〃
〃No。 Not now。〃
〃Thank you for the not now。 Should I make love this time as a girl and then do it？〃
〃You're a girl。 You are a girl。 You're my lovely girl Catherine。〃
〃Yes I am your girl and I love you and I love you and I love you。
〃Don't talk。〃
〃Yes I will。 I'm your girl Catherine and I love you please I love you always always always&mdash；〃
〃You don't have to keep saying it。 I can tell。〃
〃I like to say it and I have to say it and I've been a fine girl and a good girl and I will again。 I promise I will again。
〃You don't have to say it。
〃Oh yes I do。 I say it and I said it and you said it。 You now please。 Please you。
They lay quiet for a long time and she said； 〃I love you so much and you're such a good husband。〃
〃You blessed。〃 'Was I what you wanted？〃 〃What do you think？〃 〃I hope I was。〃 〃You were。〃
〃I promised truly and I will and I'll keep it。 Now can I be a boy again？〃
〃Why？〃
〃Just for a little while。〃
〃Why？〃
〃I loved it and I don't miss it but I'd like to be again in bed at night if it isn't bad for you。 Can I be again？ If it's not bad for you？〃
〃The hell with if it's bad for me。〃
〃Then can I？〃
〃Do you really want to？〃
He had kept from saying have to so she said； 〃I don't have to but please if it's all right。 Can I please？〃
〃All right。〃 He kissed her and held her to him。
〃Nobody can tell which way I am but us。 I'll only be a boy at night and won't embarrass you。 Don't worry about it please。〃
〃All right； boy。〃
〃I lied when I said I didn't have to。 It came so suddenly today。〃 He shut his eyes and did not think and she kissed him and it had gone further now and he could tell and feel the desperateness。
〃Now you change。 Please。 Don't make me change you。 Must I？ All right I will。 You're changed now。 You are。 You did it too。 You are。 You did it too。 I did it to you but you did it。 Yes you did。 You're my sweet dearest darling Catherine。 You're my sweet my lovely Catherine。 You're my girl my dearest only girl。 Oh thank you thank you my girl&mdash；〃
She lay there a long time and he thought that she had gone to sleep。 Then she moved away very slowly lifting herself lightly on her elbows and said； 〃I have a wonderful surprise for myself for tomorrow。 I'm going to the Prado in the morning and see all the pictures as a boy。〃
〃I give up；〃 David said。
Chapter Seven
IN ThE MORNING he got up while she was still sleeping and went out into the bright early morning freshness of the high plateau air。 He walked in the street up the hill to the Plaza Santa Ana and had breakfast at a cafe and read the local papers。 Catherine had wanted to be at the Prado at ten when it opened and before he left he had set the alarm to wake her at nine。 Outside on the street； walking up the hill he had thought of her sleeping； the beautiful rumpled head that looked like an ancient coin lying against the white sheet； the pillow pushed away； the upper sheet showing the curves of her body。 It lasted a month； he thought； or almost。 And the other time from le Grau du Roi to Hendaye was two months。 No； less； because she started thinking of it in Nimes。 It wasn't two months。 We've been married three months and two weeks and I hope I make her happy always but in this I do not think anybody can take care of anybody。 It's enough to stay in it。 The difference is that she asked this time； he told himself。 She did ask。
When he had read the papers and then paid for his breakfast and walked out into the heat that had come back to the plateau
when the wind had changed； he made his way to the cool； formal； sad politeness of the bank； where he found mail that had been forwarded from Paris。 He opened and read mail while he waited through the lengthy； many…windowed formalities of cashing a draft which had been sent from his bank to this； their Madrid correspondent。
Finally with the heavy notes buttoned into his jacket pocket he came out into the glare again and stopped at the newsstand to buy the English and American papers that had come in on the morning Sud Express。 He bought some bullfight weeklies to wrap the English language papers in and then walked down the Carrera San Geronimo to the cool friendly morning gloom of the Buffet Italianos。 There was no one in the place yet and he remembered that he had made no rendezvous with Catherine。
〃What will you drink？〃 the waiter asked him。
〃Beer；〃 he said。
〃This isn't a beer place。〃
〃Don't you have beer？〃
〃Yes。 But it's not a beer place。〃
〃Up yours；〃 he said and re…rolled the papers and went out and walked across the street and back on the other side to turn to the left into the Calle Vittoria and on to the Cervezeria Alvarez。 He sat at a table under the awning in the passageway and drank a big cold glass of the draft beer。
The waiter was probably only making conversation； he thought； and what the man said was quite true。 It isn't a beer place。 He was just being literal。 He wasn't being insolent。 That was a very bad thing to say and he had no defense against it。 It was a shitty thing to do。 He drank a second beer and called the waiter to pay。
〃Y la Senora？〃 the waiter said。
〃At the Museo del Prado。 I'm going to get her。〃
〃Well； until you get back；〃 the waiter said。
He walked back to the hotel by a downhill shortcut。 The key was at the desk so he rode up to their floor and left the papers and the mail on a table in the room and locked most of the money in his suitcase。 The room was made up and the shutters were lowered against the heat so that the room was darkened。 He washed and then sorted through his mail and took four letters out and put them in his hip pocket。 He took the Paris editions of The New York Herald； the Chicago Tribune and the London Daily Mail down with him to the bar of the hotel stopping at the desk to leave the key and to ask the clerk to tell Madame； when she came in； that he was in the bar。
He sat on a stool at the bar and ordered a marismeiio and opened and read his letters while he ate the garlic…flavored olives from the saucer the bartender had placed before him with his glass。 One of the letters had two cuttings of reviews of his novel from monthly m