The Last Gentleman

relieved by the diversion, its occupants turned toward him with a mild, unspecified interest.
    â€œI want to know whether you are still prepared to go somewhere with Jamie,” Rita said.
    The engineer rubbed his forehead. “What time is it?” he asked no one in particular. Was this the true flavor of hatred, he wondered, this used, almost comfortable malice sustained between them, with its faint sexual reek? They turned as fondly to him as spent lovers greeting a strange child.
    â€œTwo thirty,” said Sutter.
    â€œWhat about it, Bill?” asked Rita crisply.
    â€œWhat? Oh, Jamie,” he repeated, aware that Sutter watched him. “Why, yes. But you knew all along that I would go with him. Why do you ask?”
    â€œI have reason to believe that Jamie is getting restless and that he may ask Sutter to go off somewhere with him. I think this is too much to ask of Sutter.”
    He stole a glance at Sutter, but the latter’s expression was still fond and inattentive.
    â€œYou are very much in demand, Bill,” said he at last. “Jimmy wants you, not me.”
    â€œThen what’s the difficulty?” asked the bemused engineer, feeling their apathy steal into his bones.
    â€œThe difficulty,” said Sutter, “is that Rita wants to make sure Jimmy doesn’t go anywhere with me.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThat’s a good question, isn’t it, Rita,” said Sutter, but still not quite looking at her (couldn’t they stand the sight of each other?). “Why don’t you want Jimmy to go with me?”
    â€œBecause of your deliberate cultivation of destructiveness, of your death-wish, not to mention your outhouse sexuality,” said Rita, still smiling, and addressing Sutter through the engineer. “Every man to his own taste but you can bloody well leave Jamie out of it.”
    â€œWhat do you think I would do?” Sutter asked.
    â€œI know what you have done.”
    â€œJamie also spoke of going down to Val’s,” said the engineer for reasons of his own. He could not quite make this pair out and wished to get another fix on them. Val was his triangulation point.
    â€œVal,” said Rita nodding. “Yes, between the two of you, Sutter and Val, you could dispose of him very nicely. You’d kill him off in three weeks and Val would send his soul to heaven. If you don’t mind I shall continue to minister to the living.”
    â€œKill him off?” Sutter frowned but still could not tear his vacant eye from the engineer. “I understood he was in a remission.”
    â€œHe was.”
    â€œWhat’s his white count?”
    â€œEighteen thousand.”
    â€œHow many immature forms?”
    â€œTwenty percent.”
    â€œWhat’s he on?”
    â€œPrednisone.”
    â€œWasn’t he on Aminopterin?”
    â€œThat was a year ago.”
    â€œWhat’s his red count?”
    â€œJust under three million.”
    â€œIs his spleen palpable?”
    â€œThat’s what I like about you and your sister,” said Rita.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œYour great concern for Jamie, one for his body, the other for his soul. The only trouble is your interest is somewhat periodic.”
    â€œThat’s what interests me,” said Sutter. “Your interest, I mean.”
    â€œPut up your knife, you bastard. You no longer bother me.”
    They quarreled with the skillful absent-minded malice of married couples. Instead of taking offense, they nodded sleepily and even smiled.
    â€œWhat is it you want this young man to do?” Sutter asked, shaking his head to rouse himself.
    â€œMy house in Tesuque is open,” said Rita. “Teresita is there to cook. The Michelins are next door. I have even determined that they could transfer to the college in Santa Fe without loss of credit—at the end of this semester.”
    â€œWho are the Michelins?” asked the engineer.
    â€œA duo piano team,” said Sutter. “Why don’t you take him out yourself, Rita?”
    â€œYou persuade him to go and I will,” said Rita listlessly.
    â€œRita,” said Sutter in the same mild temper which the engineer had not yet put down to ordinary friendliness or pluperfect malice, “what do you really care what happens to Jimmy?”
    â€œI care.”
    â€œTell me honestly what difference it makes to you whether Jimmy lives or dies.”
    The engineer