“I made a fool of myself twice over a man; Robbie was the last time, and believe me, it’s going to stay the last. He put up the money for the best picture I ever made, and he was handsome as a god, and he begged me to marry him, and I really meant to do it; but all the time he was fooling with two or three other women, and one of them shot him, so that was the end of my bright young dream. No, I’m not in mourning, I’m in rejoicing because I missed a lot of trouble. But if I’m a bit cynical about love, and a bit unrefined in my language, you can figure it out.”
And Vee shook the mountain of sand off her bare legs and stood up. “Here’s how I keep off the fat,” she said, and put her hands down on the sand where it was wet and firm, and stood the rest of herself upon them, her slender white limbs going straight up, and her face, upside down, laughing at Bunny; in that position she walked by slow handsteps down to the water, and then threw herself over in the other half of a handspring, and lighted on her feet and dashed into the breakers. “Come on in! The water’s fine!”
V
Bunny thought over this conversation, and learned from it his usual lesson of humility. Vee had had to fight for her success; whereas he had never had to fight for anything. If he wanted a moving picture career, Dad would arrange it for him, the studio doors would fly open. And the same with any other sort of career he could think of. How could he afford to pass judgment on anybody?
Also, while he listened to Vee Tracy, he had the memory of Eunice Hoyt to keep him humble. No, people didn’t know what was right about sex; or at any rate, if they did, they didn’t make it clear. It was disagreeable to have to think about so many other men; but then, too, it helped to clear the atmosphere. She wouldn’t expect to marry him right off; there were marriages among the screen people, but apparently not until they had made sure they were happy. Also, it enabled Bunny to be certain that Vee would not be shocked by the knowledge that she was haunting his dreams.
They were at the Monastery, and had been dancing, and went out upon one of the loggias, or platforms, or terraces, or whatever you call the outside of a cathedral. There was a moon shining down—the same that had shone on Bunny and Eunice, and on Bunny and Nina Goodrich. There was organ music inside, and the scent of flowers outside, and Bunny was thinking to himself, “What am I going to do about this?” It couldn’t go on, that was certain; he had got so that he was trembling all over. And yet, somehow, he seemed to be tongue-tied. So far, all the girls had had to propose to him, and it was quite absurd. What the dickens was the matter with him?
In a faltering voice he suggested, “Let’s dance.” Vee stood up, and he stood up; they had danced out onto this loggia, or terrace or platform, and now they would dance back, and he would be, literally, just where he had been before. No, that wouldn’t do! He had a sudden fit of desperation; and instead of the particular kind of embrace which has to do with dancing, he put his arms about her in a way that made it impossible for her to dance. This was a crude procedure, no credit to a junior classman and leader of fashion in a high-toned university. Bunny knew it, and was in a panic. She would not understand—she would be angry, and send him away!
But no, she was not angry; and somehow, she was able to understand. There is an old saying, that fingers were made before forks, and in the same way it is true that embraces were made a long time before words. Bunny became aware that his clasp was being returned—and by a pair of capable arms, that were able to hold a girl upside down in the air and carry her into the surf! It was all right! “Oh, Vee!” he whispered. “Then you do care for me!” Her lips met his, and they stood there in the moonlight, locked together, while the organ music rose to a shout.
“Vee, I was so scared!” And she laughed. “You silly boy!” But suddenly she drew back her head.
“Bunny, I want to talk to you. There’s something I must say. Let me go, and sit down, please—no, in that chair over there! I want us to talk quietly.”