Guard of Honor by James Gould Cozzens

Author:James Gould Cozzens [Cozzens, James Gould]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature, Fiction, Historical
ISBN: 9780679603054
Publisher: Modern Library; Random House
Published: 1948-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

Sal’s right hand was raised, the wrist pressed against her mouth. In her left hand, hanging at her side, she clenched absently, probably unaware of it, a folded newspaper, twisted and bent in her tight fingers. She dropped the wrist from her mouth, showing her lips puckered, as though in pain. For the dumbfounding instant, Colonel Ross wondered if, bumping into her, he had hurt her. Then, quickly, he drew the door closed behind him, shutting them out into the hall together.

She said: “What is it? I want to know, Norm! I have to know—”

“Why, yes,” Colonel Ross said. The need to know must be an insupportable need, if it brought her to come close to the door, perhaps made her put her ear to it. He said, “Come along down here. I have to telephone. Let me telephone, Sal. I have to get word to my office about some things Bus wants done. You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

She said: “You won’t tell me.”

“I will tell you,” Colonel Ross said. He put out an arm and pressed it against her, making her move. “But you’ll let me telephone first, won’t you?”

“No,” she said. “What are they doing to Bus? You tell me now! You know. You have to tell me.” She got her breath. “If you don’t, I’m going right in there.”

Colonel Ross said: “What will they think if you do that, Sal? What will Bus think? I’ll tell you all there is. Bus has to decide what to do with some people who disobeyed orders. That’s all we were talking about. I am trying to help him get the matter cleared up. That’s why I came out to telephone.”

“No,” she said. “That isn’t all. I heard more than that. You’re not telling me. I told you you wouldn’t!” She stepped unsteadily sideways, as though to get by him; and Colonel Ross moved heavily, blocking her. Blocked, she let the folded newspaper fall to the floor. She doubled both hands into fists, and, frenziedly, her face contorted in the shadows, she began to beat the fists against his big chest.

Appalled, he said: “Sal, Sal!” He managed clumsily to catch her thin wrists and hold them. “You can’t do this!” he said. “You’ve got to help Bus. You can’t act this way—”

The wrists relaxed in his hands and he let them go. The disheveled blonde hair was half over her face. It swung back listlessly as she turned away. She put a hand on the stair rail, and held it. Still holding it, sliding her palm along it, she began to climb. Without turning her head, she said woefully: “Go on and telephone, Norm. I’m going upstairs.”

Colonel Ross, still unnerved, noticed the newspaper on the floor where she had dropped it. The air of disorder it gave the hall troubled him. He went back, stooped, and picked it up. It was this morning’s Ocanara Sun, and on the rumpled front page was a large photograph showing General Beal sitting on the living room sofa, his expression stern but boyish.

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