Cached from a new edition excerpted in
The New York Times on Sunday, June 28, 2009:

A Moveable Feast, by Ernest Hemingway

The rich always have a sort of pilot fish who goes ahead of them, sometimes he is a little deaf, sometimes a little blind, but always smelling affably and hesitant ahead of them. The pilot fish talks like this: "Well I ­don't know. No of course not really. But I like them. I like them both. Yes, by God, Hem; I do like them. I see what you mean (giggle) but I do like them truly and there's something damned fine about her." (He gives her name and pronounces it lovingly.) "No, Hem, ­don't be silly and ­don't be difficult. I like them truly. Both of them I swear it. ­You'll like him (using his baby-talk nickname) when you know him. I like them both, truly."

Then you have the rich and nothing is ever as it was again. The pilot fish leaves of course. He is always going somewhere, or coming from somewhere, and he is never around for very long. He enters and leaves politics or the theater in the same way he enters and leaves countries and people's lives in his early days. He is never caught and he is not caught by the rich. Nothing ever catches him and it is only those who trust him who are caught and killed. He has the irreplaceable early training of the bastard and a latent and long denied love of money. He ends up rich himself, having moved one dollar's width to the right with every dollar that he made.

These rich loved and trusted him because he was shy, comic, elusive, already in production, and because he was an unerring pilot fish they could tell that through all the then true sincerity of his politics it was a passing sham and that he was one of them although he did not know it then.

............

That year the rich came led by the pilot fish. A year before they would never have come. There was no certainty then. The work was as good and the happiness was greater but no novel had been written, so they could not be sure. They never wasted their time nor their charm on something that was not sure. Why should they? Picasso was sure and of course had been before they had ever heard of painting. They were very sure of another painter. Many others. But this was the one they had taken up. He was a good enough painter too if you liked it and no one's fool. But this year they were sure and they had the word from the pilot fish who turned up too so we would not feel that they were outlanders and that I would not be difficult. The pilot fish was our friend of course.