THE ENGLISH GARDENS
233
to
the distant gate. There was .a pathetic, jaunty look to the re–
treating figure, and a quiet
in
the room he had just left.
"He knows his way around," Mary Jane finally said.
"A friend of mine in Venice seems to have sent
him
to me."
"A
friend?"
she asked. But she quickly smiled and said,
"What
will
it be today? More potato salad?" It took her a frac–
tion of a second longer than she would have guessed to win him
back, musing there, looking away over the sunlit lawns. In the
end, she prevailed. Over the lunch table he had returned to her
in force. In fact, it was Mary Jane who remembered their ap–
pointment at 9: 00. "Oh," he sighed. "Well, it's across town. You
needn't change, you are what we
all
will
try
to impress."
They were late.
Nicolas was discovered sitting with a group of five friends
at a table for two, back by the small stand where an all German
combo was playing
Sweet Georgia Brown
for the seventh time.
One of the people Meredith knew, a young journalist. He was
surprised for it was a talented young journalist. He waved.
Nicolas got right up and came over to the door.
"Hey buddy! Say, you come on back and meet..."
Mary
Jane said, "It looks crowded back there to me, and
loud. Let's sit right over here and Nicolas, you bring one or two
of your friends over here." She smiled up at Meredith as she said
this
and explained, "We'd
all
be squatting back there on our
haunches."
Nicolas studied her.
((O.K."
he said.
Smiling, in all innocence, Meredith suggested, "Bring Chris–
tian over." Then, immediately, he had to turn and help Mary
Jane in behind a small table.
Nicolas did return with Meredith's friend, Christian, and
another of his table, and a fresh tactic. He took a chair next to
Mary
Jane. All affability, he urged her, "Let Nicolas get you a
beer."
"We've ordered, Nicolas, there'll be time." She had out a
cigarette and turned to Meredith who lit it.
