Nick was slouched in the armchair, a book on his lap.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
“Hemingway,” Nick replied, “He’s great... here, read this.”
He handed her the book.
“From here?” She pointed to the top of the page.
“Yes, from there. Read it to me.”
“'There was a choice of three bridges. On one of them a woman sold roasted chestnuts. It was warm, standing in front of her charcoal fire, and the chestnuts were warm afterwards in your pocket. The hos….’”
“Marvellous,” he interrupted, “Don’t you think?”
“Yes, he’s good, I admit. But he can’t do dialogue so well.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s always repeating what the characters say,” she said. “He struggles with dialogue. I stopped reading him because of it.”
“Does he struggle with dialogue?”
“Yes. He struggles with dialogue.”
“Maybe he didn’t talk much himself,” Nick suggested.“Yes, who knows. But he does struggle a bit with dialogue in his stories.”
“Does he?”
“Yes, it becomes quite tedious,” she replied.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
“Hemingway,” Nick replied, “He’s great... here, read this.”
He handed her the book.
“From here?” She pointed to the top of the page.
“Yes, from there. Read it to me.”
“'There was a choice of three bridges. On one of them a woman sold roasted chestnuts. It was warm, standing in front of her charcoal fire, and the chestnuts were warm afterwards in your pocket. The hos….’”
“Marvellous,” he interrupted, “Don’t you think?”
“Yes, he’s good, I admit. But he can’t do dialogue so well.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s always repeating what the characters say,” she said. “He struggles with dialogue. I stopped reading him because of it.”
“Does he struggle with dialogue?”
“Yes. He struggles with dialogue.”
“Maybe he didn’t talk much himself,” Nick suggested.“Yes, who knows. But he does struggle a bit with dialogue in his stories.”
“Does he?”
“Yes, it becomes quite tedious,” she replied.
