- Posted on: 1 February, 2021
- 18 Years Old
- F. Scott Fitzgerald
- #18 #1934 #Dick Diver #Female #Novel #Rosemary Hoyt #Tender is the Night
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Rosemary Hoyt 18
He emptied what was left of the first bottle into Rosemary’s glass. She had made herself quite sick the first day in Paris with quarts of lemonade; after that she had taken nothing with them, but now she raised the champagne and drank at it.
“But what’s this?” exclaimed Dick. “You told me you don’t drink.”
“I didn’t say I was never going to.”
“What about your mother?”
“I’m just going to drink this one glass.” She felt some necessity for it. Dick drank, not too much, but he drank, and perhaps it would bring her closer to him, be a part of the equipment for what she had to do. She drank it, quickly, choked and then said, “Besides, yesterday was my birthday – I was eighteen.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” they said indignantly.
“I knew you’d make a fuss over it and go to a lot of trouble.” She finished the champagne. “So this is the celebration.”
“It most certainly is not,” Dick assured her. “The dinner to-morrow night is your birthday party and don’t forget it. Eighteen – why that’s a terribly important age.”
“I used to think until you were eighteen nothing matters,” said Mary.
“That’s right,” Abe agreed. “And afterwards it’s the same way.”
