“So long, kid!”
“It was swell. I’ve had a swell time.”
“Will you be in Paris?”
“No, I have to sail on the 17th. So long, fella!”
“So long, old kid!”
He went in through the gate to the train. The porter went ahead with the bags. I watched the train pull out. Bill was at one of the windows. The window passed, the rest of the train passed, and the tracks were empty. I went outside to the car.
“How much do we owe you?” I asked the driver. The price to Bayonne had been fixed at a hundred and fifty pesetas.
“Two hundred pesetas.”
“How much more will it be if you drive me to San Sebastian on your way back?”
“Fifty pesetas.”