In Our Time Read Online Free Page B

now,” Bill said. “That doesn’t do us any good.”
    â€œI wonder if the Cards will ever win a pennant?”
    â€œNot in our lifetime,” Bill said.
    â€œGee, they’d go crazy,” Nick said.
    â€œDo you remember when they got going that once before they had the train wreck?”
    â€œBoy!” Nick said, remembering.
    Bill reached over to the table under the window for the book that lay there, face down, where he had put it when he went to the door. He held his glass in one hand and the book in the other, leaning back against Nick’s chair.
    â€œWhat are you reading?”
    â€œRichard Feverel.”
    â€œI couldn’t get into it.”
    â€œIt’s all right,” Bill said. “It ain’t a bad book, Wemedge.”
    â€œWhat else have you got I haven’t read?” Nick asked.
    â€œDid you read the Forest Lovers ?”
    â€œYup. That’s the one where they go to bed every night with the naked sword between them.”
    â€œThat’s a good book, Wemedge.”
    â€œIt’s a swell book. What I couldn’t ever understand was what good the sword would do. It would have to stay edge up all the time because if it went over flat you could roll right over it and it wouldn’t make any trouble.”
    â€œIt’s a symbol,” Bill said.
    â€œSure,” said Nick, “but it isn’t practical.”
    â€œDid you ever read Fortitude ?”
    â€œIt’s fine,” Nick said. “That’s a real book. That’s where his old man is after him all the time. Have you got any more by Walpole?”
    â€œThe Dark Forest,” Bill said. “It’s about Russia.”
    â€œWhat does he know about Russia?” Nick asked.
    â€œI don’t know. You can’t ever tell about those guys. Maybe he was there when he was a boy. He’s got a lot of dope on it.”
    â€œI’d like to meet him,” Nick said.
    â€œI’d like to meet Chesterton,” Bill said.
    â€œI wish he was here now,” Nick said. “We’d take him fishing to the ’Voix tomorrow.”
    â€œI wonder if he’d like to go fishing,” Bill said.
    â€œSure,” said Nick. “He must be about the best guy there is. Do you remember the Flying Inn ?”
    â€œâ€˜If an angel out of heaven
Gives you something else to drink,
Thank him for his kind intentions;
Go and pour them down the sink.’”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Nick. “I guess he’s a better guy than Walpole.”
    â€œOh, he’s a better guy, all right,” Bill said.
    â€œBut Walpole’s a better writer.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Nick said. “Chesterton’s a classic.”
    â€œWalpole’s a classic, too,” Bill insisted.
    â€œI wish we had them both here,” Nick said. “We’d take them both fishing to the ’Voix tomorrow.”
    â€œLet’s get drunk,” Bill said.
    â€œAll right,” Nick agreed.
    â€œMy old man won’t care,” Bill said.
    â€œAre you sure?” said Nick.
    â€œI know it,” Bill said.
    â€œI’m a little drunk now,” Nick said.
    â€œYou aren’t drunk,” Bill said.
    He got up from the floor and reached for the whisky bottle. Nick held out his glass. His eyes fixed on it while Bill poured.
    Bill poured the glass half full of whisky.
    â€œPut in your own water,” he said. “There’s just one more shot.”
    â€œGot any more?” Nick asked.
    â€œThere’s plenty more but dad only likes me to drink what’s open.”
    â€œSure,” said Nick.
    â€œHe says opening bottles is what makes drunkards,” Bill explained.
    â€œThat’s right,” said Nick. He was impressed. He had never thought of that before. He had always thought it was solitary drinking that made drunkards.
    â€œHow is your dad?” he asked respectfully.
    â€œHe’s all