he sea beyond the pines was blue and calm。 The evening was as beautiful and clear as the morning had been。
They walked down to the entrance of the hotel and David took the bag with the beach things into the storeroom and put it down。
〃Let me take them；〃 Catherine said。 〃They ought to go to dry。〃
〃I'm sorry；〃 David said。 He turned at the door of the storeroom and walked out and then down to his work room at the end of the hotel。 Inside the room he opened the big Vuitton suitcase。 The pile of cahiers that the stories had been written in was gone。 So
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were the four bulky envelopes from the bank that had contained the press clippings。 The pile of cahiers with the narrative written in them were intact。 He closed and locked the suitcase and searched all of the drawers in the armoire and searched the room。 He had not believed that the stories could be gone。 He had not believed that she could do it。 At the beach he had known that she might have done it but it had seemed impossible and he had not really believed it。 They had been calm and careful and restrained about it as you were trained to be in danger or emergency or in disaster but it had not seemed possible that it could really have happened。
Now he knew that it had happened but still thought it might be some ghastly joke。 So； empty and dead in his heart； he re opened the suitcase and checked it and after he locked it he checked the room again。
Now there was no danger and no emergency。 It was only disaster now。 But it couldn't be。 She must have hidden them someplace。 They could be in the storeroom； or in their own room； or she could have put them in Marita's room。 She couldn't really have destroyed them。 No one could do that to a fellow human being。 He still could not believe that she had done it but he felt sick inside himself when he closed and locked the door。
The two girls were at the bar when David came in。 Marita looked up at him and saw how things were and Catherine watched him come in by looking at the mirror。 She did not look at him； only at his reflection in the mirror。
〃Where did you put them； Devil？〃 David asked。
She turned away from the mirror and looked at him。 〃I won't tell you；〃 she said。 〃I took care of them。〃
〃I wish you'd tell me；〃 David said。 〃Because I need them very much。〃
〃No； you don't；〃 she said。 〃They were worthless and I hated them。〃
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〃Not the one about Kibo；〃 David said。 〃You loved Kibo。 Don't you remember？〃
〃He had to go too。 I was going to tear him out and keep him but I couldn't find him。 Anyway you said he was dead。〃
David saw Marita look at her and look away。 Then she looked back。 〃Where did you burn them； Catherine？〃
〃I won't tell you either；〃 Catherine said。 〃You're part of the same thing。〃
〃Did you burn them with the clipping？〃 David asked。
〃I won't tell you；〃 Catherine said。 〃You talk to me like a policeman or at school。〃
〃Tell me； Devil。 I only want to know。〃
〃I paid for them；〃 Catherine said。 〃I paid the money to do them。〃
〃I know；〃 David said。 〃It was very generous of you。 Where did you burn them； Devil？〃
〃I won't tell her。〃
〃No。 Just tell me。〃
〃Ask her to go away。
〃I really have to go anyway；〃 Marita said。 〃I'll see you later； Catherine。〃
〃That's good；〃 Catherine said。 〃It wasn't your fault； Heiress。〃 David sat on the tall stool by Catherine and she looked in the mirror and watched Marita go out of the room。
〃Where did you burn them； Devil？〃 David asked。 〃You can tell me now。
〃She wouldn't understand；〃 Catherine said。 〃That's why I wanted her to go。
〃I know；〃 said David。 〃Where did you burn them； Devil？〃
〃In the iron drum with holes that Madame uses to burn trash；〃 Catherine said。
〃Did everything burn up？〃
〃Yes。 I poured on some petrol from a bidon in the remise。 It
made a big fire and everything burned。 I did it for you； David； and for all of us。〃
〃I'm sure you did；〃 David said。 〃Did everything burn？〃
〃Oh yes。 We can go out and look if you like but it isn't necessary。 The paper all burned black and I stirred it up with a stick。〃
〃I'll just go out and have a look；〃 David said。
〃But you'll be back；〃 Catherine said。
〃Sure；〃 David said。
The burning had been in the trash burner which was a former fifty…five…gallon gasoline drum with holes punched in it。 The stick used to stir the ashes； and still freshly blackened on one end； was an old broom handle which had been used in this capacity before。 The bidon was in the stone shed and contained kerosene。 In the drum were a few identifiable charred bits of the green covers of the cahiers； and David found scraps of burnt newsprint and two charred bits of pink paper which he identified as those used by the Romeike's clipping service。 On one he could dis tinguish the Providence RI dateline。 The ashes had been well stirred but there would doubtless have been more unburned or charred material if he had cared to sift or examine them patiently。 He tore the pink paper with Providence RI printed on it into small pieces and dropped them in the former gasoline drum which he had replaced in an upright position。 He reflected that he had never been in Providence； Rhode Island； and replacing the broom handle in the stone shed； where he noticed the presence of his racing bicycle； the tires of which needed inflation； he re entered the kitchen of the hotel； which was empty； and pro ceeded to the salon where he joined his wife Catherine at the bar。
'Wasn't it just the way I said？〃 Catherine asked。
〃Yes；〃 David said and sat down on one of the stools and put his elbows on the bar。
〃It probably would have been enough to burn the clippings；〃
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Catherine said。 〃But I really thought I ought to make a clean sweep。
〃You did； all right；〃 David said。
〃Now you can go right on with the narrative and there will be nothing to interrupt you。 You can start in the morning。〃
〃Sure；〃 David said。
〃I'm glad you're reasonable about it；〃 Catherine said。 〃You couldn't know how worthless they were； David。 I had to show you。
〃You couldn't have kept the Kibo one that you liked？〃
〃I told you I tried to find it。 But if you want to rewrite it I can tell it to you word for word。〃
〃That will be fun。〃
〃It will be really。 You'll see。 Do you want me to tell it to you now？ We could if you want。〃
〃No；〃 David said。 〃Not just now。 Would you write it though？〃
〃I can't write things； David。 You know that。 But I can tell it to you anytime you want。 You don't really care about the others do you？ They were worthless。〃
〃Why did you do it really？〃
〃To help you。 You can go to Africa and write them again when your viewpoint is more mature。 The country can't be changed very much。 I think it would be nice if you wrote about Spain instead though。 You said the country was almost the same as Africa and there you'd have the advantage of a civilized language。〃
David poured himself a whiskey and found a bottle of Perrier； uncapped it and poured some in the glass。 He remembered the day they had passed the place where they bottled Perrier water on the plain on the way to Aigues Mortes and how&mdash；〃Let's not talk about writing；〃 he said to Catherine。
〃I like to；〃 Catherine said。 'When it's constructive and has some valid purpose。 You always wrote so well until you started
those stories。 The worst thing was the dirt and the flies and the cruelty and the bestiality。 You seemed almost to grovel in it。 That horrible one about the massacre in the crater and the heart lessness of your own father。〃
〃Can we not talk about them？〃 David asked。
〃I want to talk about them；〃 Catherine said。 〃I want to make you realize why it was necessary to burn them。〃
'Write it out；〃 David said。 〃I'd rather not hear it now。〃
〃But I can't write things； David。〃
〃You will；〃 David said。
〃No。 But I'll tell them to someone who can write them；〃 Catherine said。 〃If you were friendly you'd write them for me。 If you really loved me you'd be happy to。〃
〃All I want to do is kill you；〃 David said。 〃And the only reason I don't do it is because you are crazy。
〃You can't talk to me like that； David。〃
〃No？〃
〃No； you can't。 You can't。 Do you hear me？〃
〃I hear you。
〃Then hear me say you can't say such things。 You can't say horrible things like that to me。〃
〃I hear you；〃 David said。
〃You can't say such things。 I won't stand for it。 I'll divorce you。
〃That would be very welcome。〃
〃Then I'll stay married to you and never give you a divorce。〃
〃That would be pretty。〃
〃I'll do anything I want to you。
〃You have。〃
〃I'll kill you。
〃I wouldn't give a shit；〃 David said。
〃You can't even talk like a gentleman at a time like this。〃
〃What would a gentleman say at a time like this？〃
〃That he was sorry。〃
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〃All right；〃 David said。 〃I'm sorry。 I'm sorry I ever met you。 I'm sorry I ever married you&mdash；〃
〃So am I。〃
〃Shut up please。 You can tell it to somebody who can write it down。 I'm sorry your mother ever met your father and that they ever made you。 I'm sorry you were born and that you grew up。 I'm sorry for everything we ever did good or bad&mdash；〃
〃You're not。〃
〃No；〃 he said。 〃I'll shut up。 I didn't mean to make a speech。〃
〃You're just really sorry for yourself。〃
〃Possibly；〃 David said。 〃But shit； Devil； why did you have to burn them？ The stories？〃
〃I had to； David；〃 she said。 〃I'm sorry if you don't understand。〃
He had understood really before he had asked her the question and the question had been； he realized； a rhetorical one。 He dis liked rhetoric and distrusted those who used it and he was ashamed to have fallen into it。 He drank the whiskey and Perrier slowly while he thought how untrue it was that everything that was understood was forgiven and he tightened his own discipline as conscientiously as he would have worked in the old days with the mechanic and the armorer going over the plane； the engine and his guns。 It was not necessary then because they did the work perfectly but it was one way of not thinking； and it was； to use a wet word； comforting。 Now it was necessary because what he had said to Catherine about killing her he had said quite truly and not rhetorically。 He was ashamed of the speech which had followed the statement。 But there was nothing he could do about the statement which was truly made except tighten his discip