The Way We Were Page #5

you racist fink!

What's with her this week?

This week?

What do you mean?

Shut up!

I have 21 minutes of dead air facing me!

It's his fault!

Okay, okay! I'll sign.

Hubbell?

Where are you?

Grant's tomb.

I can't get a room.

Can I use your couch?

Of course you can.

Morosky, we have...

Will you, please!

Uh, Hubbell, um, there's beer

in the icebox and clean towels,

and if you wanna take a nap,

take off the phone and put it

in the drawer of the desk.

How do I get the key?

I'll call the super.

Thank you.

Hubbell!

Hey.

I wasn't sure when

you'd be home. How are you?

I don't know when I'll be back.

Uh, could you leave a key...?

You can't. I got steaks and

potatoes and sour cream and chives

and salad and fresh pie.

I would have made pot roast,

but I didn't know if you liked it.

Anyway, there wasn't time,

so I got steaks with

my ration stamps.

And you must be hungry, you

couldn't have had time to eat.

You can't go yet. You've got to stay

for supper, that's all there is to it.

What kind of pie?

Oh, your hero, huh?

Who?

Yeah.

He wasn't in college

when he did nothing for Spain.

Congress was isolationist in '37...

You'd justify the Nazi-Soviet pact.

Easier than you can justify

the Allies sitting on their behinds...

Why can't you say "asses"?

Because I can't.

Why?

What happens?

I don't know. Nothing.

What a subject for two...

It's interesting.

You'd rather talk politics.

All the contradictions. Should we

get in the war, should we not?

Stalin's for Hitler.

Stalin's against him.

All political doubletalk,

but you hold on.

I don't know how you do it.

I don't know how you can't.

You're jealous.

What? Ha-ha-ha.

You are.

Why are you jealous?

I'll live.

Maybe longer.

But you won't write another novel.

You must've gotten one

of the two copies sold.

You get through it?

Oh, I managed.

Twice.

I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

What didn't you like?

The way you write is no problem.

Your style is absolutely

gorgeous. But...

Gorgeous?

It is.

It is gorgeous.

But you...

stand back.

Do you know

what I mean?

Go ahead.

You see, the people...

you watch them...

from a distance.

Where?

In the book.

I know, in the book.

Where in the book?

Be specific.

All through it, Hubbell.

But it's your first novel, and

I'm sure the second one will be...

Why should I write

another novel?

Because you must!

You're too good a writer not to.

Are you really so sure

of everything you're so sure of?

Sure.

Heh.

Aren't you?

No.

No. Not as sure.

Do things still come too easily?

Huh?

"In a way he was like

the country he lived in.

Everything came too easily

to him."

What made you remember that?

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