Men At Arms by Waugh Evelyn

Author:Waugh, Evelyn [Waugh, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

'Would you like to sin

With Eleanor Glyn

On a tiger skin?

Or would you prefer

With her

To err

On some other fur?'

All in his immediate ambience looked at the rug in sad embarrassment.

'Who's Eleanor Glyn?' asked Virginia.

'Oh, just a name, you know. Put in to make it rhyme, I expect. Neat, isn't it?'

When he came to go, Guy found himself at the door with Ian and the marshal.

'My car's here. Can I give you a lift?'

It was snowing again and dark as the grave.

'That's very good of you, sir. I was going to St James's Street.'

'Hop in.'

'I'll come too, sir, if I may,' said Ian, surprisingly for there were still guests lingering upstairs.

When they reached Bellamy's, Ian said: 'Won't you come in for a final one, sir?'

'A sound idea.'

The three of them went to the bar.

'By the way, Guy,' said Ian, 'Air Marshal Beech is thinking of joining us here. Parsons, got the Candidates Book with you?'

The book was brought' and the marshal's virgin page presented to view. Ian Kilbannock's fountain pen was gently put into Guy's hand, He signed; 'I'm sure you'll find it amusing here, sir,' said Ian.

'I've no doubt I shall,' said the air marshal. 'I often thought of joining in the piping days of peace, but I wasn't in London often enough for it to be worth while. Now. I need a little place like this where I can slip away and relax.'

It was St Valentine's Day.

Februato Juno, dispossessed, has taken a shrewish revenge on that steadfast clergyman, bludgeoned and beheaded seventeen centuries back, and set him in the ignominious role of patron to killers and facetious lovers. Guy honoured him for the mischance and whenever possible went to mass on his feast-day. He walked from Claridge's to Farm Street, from Farm Street to Bellamy's and settled down to a bleak day of waiting.

The newspapers were still full of the Altmark, now dubbed 'the Hell Ship', There were long accounts of the indignities and discomforts of the prisoners, officially designed to rouse indignation among a public quite indifferent to those trains of locked vans still rolling' East and West from Poland and the Baltic, that were to roll on year after year boating their innocent loads to ghastly unknown destinations, And Guy, oblivious also, thought all that winter's day of his coming meeting with his wife. In the late afternoon when all was black, he telephoned to her room.

'What are our plans for the evening?'

'Oh good, are there plans? I quite forgot.' Tommy's just left and I was thinking of a lonely early night, dinner in bed with the cross-word. I'd much rather have plans. Shall I come along to you? Everything looks rather squalid here.' So she came to the six-guinea chaperon sitting-room and Guy ordered cock tails.

'Not as cosy as mine,' she said, looking round the rich little room.

Guy sat beside her on the sofa. He put his arm on the back, edged towards her, put his hand on her shoulder.

'What's going on?' she asked in unaffected surprise. ' I just wanted to kiss you.

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