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〃When we were here in the early summer they had gunnery practice off the Porquerolles and it was terrific；〃 Catherine said。 〃It shook the window。 Will they use depth bombs now； David？〃
〃I don't know。 I shouldn't think so if they're working with real subs。〃
〃I can go to swim； can't I please David？〃 Catherine asked。 〃I'm going away and then you can swim all the time by yourselves。〃
〃I asked you to swim；〃 David said。
〃That's true；〃 Catherine said。 〃You did。 Then let's go now and all be friends and happy。 If the planes come in close they can see us on the beach at the cove and that will cheer them up。
The planes did come by close off the cove while David and Marita were swimming far out and Catherine was tanning on the beach。 They passed rapidly； three echelons of three； their big Rh6ne motors roaring suddenly as they flew over then dying away as they went toward Sainte Maxime。
David and Marita swam back in to the beach and sat on the sand by Catherine。
〃They never even looked at me；〃 Catherine said。 〃They must be very serious boys。〃
〃What did you expect？ Aerial photography？〃 David asked her。
Marita had said very little since they had left the hotel and she said nothing to this。
〃It was fun when David really did live with me；〃 Catherine said to her。 〃I can remember when I liked everything that David did。 You must try to like his things too； Heiress。 That is if he has any left。〃
〃Do you have any left； David？〃 Marita asked。
〃He traded everything he had in on those stories；〃 Catherine said。 〃He used to have so many things。 I certainly hope you like stories； Heiress。〃
〃I like them；〃 Marita said。 She did not look at David but he
saw her serene dark face and sea wet hair and smooth lovely skin and her beautiful body as she sat looking out at the sea。
〃That's good；〃 Catherine said lazily and took a long deep lazy breath as she stretched out on the beach robe on the sand that was still warm from the afternoon sun。 〃Because that's what you're going to get。 He used to do so many things too and he did them all so beautifully。 He had a wonderful life and all he thinks about now is Africa and his drunken father and his press cuttings。 His clippings。 Has he ever shown you his clippings； Heiress？〃
〃No； Catherine；〃 Marita said。
〃He will；〃 Catherine said。 〃He tried to show them to me once at le Grau du Roi but I put a stop to that。 There were hundreds of them and every one； almost； had his picture and they were all the same pictures。 It's worse than carrying around obscene post cards really。 I think he reads them by himself and is unfaithful to me with them。 In a wastebasket probably。 He always has a wastebasket。 He said himself it was the most important thing for a writer&mdash；〃
〃Let's go in and swim； Catherine；〃 Marita said。 〃I think I'm getting cold。〃
〃I mean the wastebasket was the most important thing for a writer；〃 Catherine said。 〃I used to think I ought to get him a really wonderful one that would be worthy of him。 But he never puts anything he writes in the wastebasket。 He writes in those ridiculous child's notebooks and he doesn't throw anything away。 He just crosses things out and writes along the sides of the pages。 The whole business is a fraud really。 He makes mistakes in spelling and grammar too。 Did you know； Marita； that he doesn't even really know grammar？〃
〃Poor David；〃 Marita said。
〃Of course his French is worse；〃 Catherine said。 〃You've never seen him try to write it。 He fakes along well enough in conversa tion and he's amusing with his slang。 But actually he's illiterate。〃
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〃Too bad；〃 said David。
〃I thought he was wonderful；〃 Catherine said； 〃until I found he couldn't write even a simple note correctly。 But then you'll be able to write in French for him。〃
〃Ta queule；〃 David said cheerfully。
〃He's good at that sort of thing；〃 Catherine said。 〃Quick tags of slang that are probably outdated before he knows it。 He speaks very idiomatic French but he can't write it at all。 He's really illiterate； Marita； and you have to face it。 His handwriting is terrible too。 He can't write like a gentleman nor speak like one in any language。 Especially not his own。〃
〃Poor David；〃 Marita said。
〃I can't say I've given him the best years of my life；〃 Catherine said。 〃Because I've only lived with him since March I think it was； but I've certainly given him the best months of my life。 The ones I've had the most fun in anyway and he certainly made them fun too。 I wish it hadn't ended in complete disillusion too but what are you to do if you discover the man is illiterate and practices solitary vice in a wastebasket full of clippings from something called The Original Romeike's； whoever they are。 Any girl would be discouraged and frankly I'm not going to put up with it。〃
〃You take the clippings and burn them；〃 David said。 〃That would be the soundest thing。 Wouldn't you like to go in now and swim； Devil？〃
Catherine looked at him slyly。
〃How did you know I did it？〃 she asked。
〃Did what？〃
〃Burned the clippings。〃
〃Did you； Catherine？〃 Marita asked。
〃Of course I did；〃 Catherine said。
David stood looking at her。 He felt completely hollow。 It was like coming around a curve on a mountain road and the road not
being there and only a gulf ahead。 Marita was standing now too。 Catherine was looking at them her face calm and reasonable。
〃Let's go in and swim；〃 Marita said。 〃We'll just swim out to the point and back。〃
〃I'm glad you're being pleasant finally；〃 Catherine said。 〃I've been wanting to go in for a long time。 It's really getting quite cool。 We forget it's September。〃
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Chapter Twenty…six
THEY DRESSED ON THE BEACH and climbed up the steep trail with David carrying the bag with the beach things to where the old car was waiting in the pine woods。 The got in and David drove back to the hotel in the early evening light。 Catherine was quiet in the car and to anyone passing them they might have been returning from any afternoon at one of the unfrequented beaches of the Est&el。 The war ships were no longer in sight when they left the car on the driveway； and the sea beyond the pines was blue and calm。 The evening was as beautiful and clear as the morning had been。
They walked down to the entrance of the hotel and David took the bag with the beach things into the storeroom and put it down。
〃Let me take them；〃 Catherine said。 〃They ought to go to dry。〃
〃I'm sorry；〃 David said。 He turned at the door of the storeroom and walked out and then down to his work room at the end of the hotel。 Inside the room he opened the big Vuitton suitcase。 The pile of cahiers that the stories had been written in was gone。 So
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were the four bulky envelopes from the bank that had contained the press clippings。 The pile of cahiers with the narrative written in them were intact。 He closed and locked the suitcase and searched all of the drawers in the armoire and searched the room。 He had not believed that the stories could be gone。 He had not believed that she could do it。 At the beach he had known that she might have done it but it had seemed impossible and he had not really believed it。 They had been calm and car