He stopped, took a gingerly little sip of his fancy drink, and then laid it down.
You don't really like that, do you Where's your disgusting Scotch?
The drink of the islands, he said. No, I don't like it, but it doesn't matter. How did it go with you?
I didn't answer. I was of course seeing him with my old vision, and his skin was more translucent, and all the little infirmities of his body were plain. Yet he possessed the aura of the marvelous as do all mortals to a vampire's eyes.
He seemed weary, racked with nervous tension. Indeed, his eyes were red around the edges, and again I saw that stiffness about his mouth. I also noted a sagging to his shoulders. Had this awful ordeal aged him further I couldn't bear to see this in him. But his face was full of concern now as he looked at me,
Something bad has happened with you, he said, softening even more and reaching across the table and laying his fingers on my hand. How warm they felt. I can see this in your eyes.
I don't want to talk here, I said. Come up to my rooms at the hotel.
No, let's stay here, he said very gently. I feel anxious after all that's happened. It was quite an ordeal, really, for a man my age. I'm exhausted. I hoped you would come last night.
I'm sorry I didn't. I should have. I knew this was a terrible trial for you, even though you enjoyed it so much when it was going on.
You thought so? He gave a slow sad smile. I need another drink. What did you say Scotch?
What did I say I thought that was your favorite drink.
Now and then, he said. He gestured to the waiter. Sometimes it's a bit too serious. He asked for a single malt if they had it. They didn't. Chivas Regal would be fine. Thank you for indulging me. I like it here. I like the quiet commotion. I like the open air.
Even his voice sounded tired; it lacked some bright spark.
This was hardly the time to suggest a trip to Rio de Janeiro, obviously. And it was all my fault.
Anything you wish, I said.
Now, tell me what happened, he said, solicitously. I can see it's weighing on your soul.
And then I realized how much I wanted to tell him about Gretchen, that indeed, this is why I'd rushed here as much as any concern I felt for him. I was ashamed, and yet I couldn't prevent myself from telling him. I turned towards the beach, my elbow on the table, and my eyes sort of misted so that the colors of the evening world became muted and more luminescent than before. I told him that I'd gone to Gretchen because I'd promised to do it, though deep within myself, I was hoping and praying to take her into my world with me. And then I explained about the hospital, the pure strangeness of it-the similarity of the doctor to the one of centuries ago, and the little ward itself, and that mad, crazy notion that Claudia was there.
It was baffling, I whispered. I never dreamed that Gretchen would turn me away. You know what I thought It sounds so foolish now. I thought she would find me irresistible! I thought it couldn't possibly be any other way. I thought when she looked into my eyes-my eyes now, not those mortal eyes!-she'd see the true soul which she'd loved! I never imagined that there would be revulsion, or that it could be so total- both moral and physical-and that in the very moment of understanding what we are, she would recoil completely and turn away. I can't understand how I could have been foolish, how I persist in my illusions! Is it vanity Or am I simply mad You've never found me repellent, have you, David Or am I deluded on that score as well?
You are beautiful, he whispered, the words softened with feeling. But you are unnatural, and that is what this woman saw. How deeply distressed he seemed. He had never sounded more solicitous in all his patient talks with me. Indeed, he looked as if he felt the pain I felt-acutely and totally. She was no fit companion for you, don't you see? he said kindly.
Yes, I see. I see. I rested my forehead against my hand. I wished we were in the quiet of my rooms, but