“I was watching you write—from way up there,” Nicholson said, narratively, pointing. “Good Lord. You were working away like a little Trojan.”
Teddy looked at him. “I was writing something in my notebook.”
Nicholson nodded, smiling. “How was Europe?” he asked conversationally. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, very much, thank you.”
“Where all did you go?”
Teddy suddenly reached forward and scratched the calf of his leg. “Well, it would take me too much time to name all the places, because we took our car and drove fairly great distances.” He sat back. “My mother and I were mostly in Edinburgh, Scotland, and Oxford, England, though. I think I told you in the gym I had to be interviewed at both those places. Mostly the University of Edinburgh.”
“No, I don’t believe you did,” Nicholson said. “I was wondering if you’d done anything like that. How’d it go? They grill you?”
“I beg your pardon?” Teddy said.
“How’d it go? Was it interesting?”
“At times, yes. At times, no,” Teddy said. “We stayed a little bit too long. My father wanted to get back to New York a little sooner than this ship. But some people were coming over from Stockholm, Sweden, and Innsbruck, Austria, to meet me, and we had to wait around.”