Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty Six

At seven o'clock on the morning of Lieutenant Warren Henry's wedding, the old tin alarm clock rang and he awoke with a groan.Before four o'clock he was sleeping in the tender arms of his bride to-day in a bedroom at the Capitol Hotel, some twenty miles from Pensacola.He staggered to the bathroom, turned on the cold water, and after the violent stimulation of the shower, he woke up a little.He wondered wearily whether it was a bit vulgar to spend the night first on the wedding morning.Poor Janice said she had to change and pack as soon as she got home.Yes, it was a bit gross, but, my God, what a night!Warren chuckled, raised his head, let the cold water rush to his face, and began to sing.It's kind of hard after all - a wedding in a hurry, a honeymoon for one night, and separation right away, thousands of miles apart!It's so against humanity.But this is not the first time.

Warren dried himself off with a thick towel and began to cheer up.He thought to himself, decency is still necessary.After all, it is unseemly to do such a thing on the eve of a wedding.I can only blame bad luck for separating from her so soon.It was one of the scourges of war, and the real cause of it was Hitler's invasion of France, not his or Janice's debauchery. To be honest, Warren wasn't too worried about his impending separation from Janice.She was coming to Pearl Harbor soon.When he suddenly received an order to go to the Pacific Ocean, he felt warm and excited.This, combined with the fact that he and Janice had slept together the night before their wedding night, spurred a new sense of love for life in him.Because of the looming threat of war, he had to rush back to fly a fighter jet aboard the USS Enterprise.This is a bright future, a bit like flying to the moon palace with fear.Although Warren internally regrets leaving Janice and feels guilty for enjoying her too soon and too much, his emotions run high.He called the waiter, ordered a double order of ham and eggs and a pot of coffee, and then cheerfully changed into his wedding attire.

Byron stood on the porch outside his brother's room, smiling at a thick-lined cartoon tacked to the door: Old Poseidon, shaking his blisters, angrily straightened up from the sea—in front of an aircraft carrier—to A plane with wet wheels waved his trident as the pilot leaned out of the fuselage, saluted and shouted, "Sorry." "Come in!" Warren heard a knock on the door. "You're Wet Wheels, Henry, aren't you?" Byron quoted the comic's title. "Brani! Oh! My God, how long have you been here? Hey, you look good! I'm so glad you came to the wedding." Warren ordered another breakfast for his brother. "Hey, you have to tell me about your European travels. I'm a soldier by rights, but God knows, it was you who went through the dangers. I heard you were bombed and strafed by the Nazis! My companions must Talk to you."

"I just happened to be in a war, and I'm not much of a hero, Warren." "Tell me about it. Sit down, we don't have much to talk about." They ate, drank coffee, smoked, and talked.While Warren packed his bags, they continued talking, awkwardly at first, then casually.They looked at each other.Byron felt that Warren was a little older than before, with a rougher appearance and a more confident look. Now he was in the best period, and he was better than himself in everything.The new gold wings on the aviator's epaulettes on his white uniform seemed to Byron to stretch a foot long.When it comes to flying, Warren is relaxed, humorous and composed.He has mastered the technology and technical terms of flying an airplane.He also makes jokes about his accident, but that doesn't hide his glee at being promoted.He still speaks with pride and awe when he speaks of the term "naval pilot."In Byron's view, his own experience of escaping from the gunfire was just a stupid episode, which could not be compared with Warren's step-by-step promotion to fighter pilot.

For Warren's part, the last time he saw Byron was when he was leaving for Europe, Byron was a listless, scruffy teenager with bad grades, acne Already disheartened.Now Byron has smooth and brown skin, a pointed chin, deeper eyes, and a straighter sitting posture than before.Warren has become used to the short navy hair and the clothes without shoulder pads.Byron's black shoulder-padded Italian attire and shaggy reddish hair made him look handsome, a look that befitted his heroic tale of roaming Poland with a pretty Jewish girl under German bombing.Warren had never been jealous of his brother before.He was jealous now of the red needle scar on Byron's temple—his own scar was from an accident, not a war wound—and he was even a little jealous of his Jewish girl, though Haven't seen it yet.

"How's Natalie, Byron? Is she here?" "Of course it did. I put her in with Janice. Janice was so thoughtful and called Natalie last night. Did Daddy tell her to?" "Papa just said that this girl didn't know if she was invited. I said, you're serious about this, aren't you?" Warren paused, holding the hanger from the suitcase in one hand and the uniform coat, staring at his brother. "We're going to get married." "Really? That would be great." "You really feel good?" "Of course, she's a very unusual girl to hear them say."

"She's really unusual. I know there's a religious problem—" Warren smiled, and tilted his head. "Well, Byron, does it really matter at this time? Unless you want to hold religious office - or politics - then you'll have to think twice. God, now that the war has come and the whole world is in chaos, I say don't let her go. I'm looking forward to seeing this girl, she's a doctor or something?" "She's preparing for a master's degree at the University of Paris." "Oh, brother! To me, she's scarier than an aircraft carrier docked in the dark and stormy night."

The smile on Blaney's face shows that he is proud to have such a girlfriend. "I stayed with her for six months, never said a word, hardly expressed anything. Then she said she loved me. I'm still a little bit skeptical." "Why won't she fall in love with you? You're so pretty, my boy. You're not the slender figure you used to be. Are you going to get married now, or after submarine school?" "Who told you I'm going to submarine school? Don't mention that, I've heard enough of Dad." Warren deftly took the clothes out of the closet and put them in the small coat box.

① A kind of suitcase used by American soldiers, flat and long, with a lock, suitable for placing under the bunks in the barracks. "But he's right, Byron. You don't wait until you're drafted. Then they'll put you where you want, and you'll pass if you're so-so, and you won't even get a lottery for your job. Now you can Choose your job yourself and be well trained. Hey, have you ever considered being a Navy pilot? Why do you dive three hundred feet down to the bottom of the ocean and crawl around at four knots when you can be a pilot? I'm claustrophobic when I think about submarines. You'd probably make a good pilot, and you have one thing about not being nervous."

"I became interested in submarines." Byron described Pullen's speech in Berlin about the sinking of the "Royal Oak". "It was a heroic feat," Warren said. "Successful. Even Churchill admitted it. Legendary. I guess that's what got you interested. But this war is really an air battle, Blaney. These Germans The conditions on land are not so favorable. The newspapers talk all day about armored vehicles, armored vehicles, but the French tanks are more numerous and better than the German ones. They don't use them. They are panicked by those sdugas, in fact Duggar is using our dive-bombing tactics."

"I just don't understand what's going on with this Stugar," Byron said. "It doesn't look that scary. Fixed wheels, single engine. Medium body, slow and clumsy to fly." Warren threw a big gray book to Byron and said with a smile: "Look, I'm in the pilot list, practicing solo flying in the fifth squadron. I'm going to pay the bill now, and then we'll go to church." ’” When Byron’s brother returned, he was still flipping through the yearbook. "It's really you, Warren, you took the first place in the air crew preparatory school! You work so hard, how can you still have time to pursue Janice?" "That took a lot of work." Warren put on an exhausted look, and they both laughed. "As long as you arrange it well, it's not too difficult to read your homework well." Byron held up the yearbook and pointed to a page with a black border. "Are all these people dead?" Warren's face turned serious. "Well. Frank Monaghan was my instructor, a very good pilot." He sighed and looked around the drab house, hands behind his hips. "Well, I'm not at all sorry to be out of this room. I've struggled here for eleven months." On the way to drive into the city, Warren said that Pensacola may be smaller and more lifeless, but the climate is very good, all kinds of interesting water sports, fishing, golf, jockey club, thriving industries, etc., Everything you need.This is the real Florida, not the palm-tree Brooklyn called Miami.These idyllic western states are the place to start a political career.Congressman Raguqiu has never met an opponent who can compete with him.He recently decided to run for the Senate in the fall.The odds of being elected are considered strong.Warren said he and Janice would likely return here one day. "When you retire?" said Byron, "that's a long way off." "Maybe before retirement." Warren glanced at Byron, knowing he was surprised. "Listen, Braney, the day I flew solo, President Roosevelt fired the Commander in Chief of the United States Fleet. Because of a dispute over Asia Fleet Policy. Likely made him an ambassador to Turkey or something. , actually kicked him out. Commander-in-Chief of the Navy is like this! In the Navy, you are just an employee, my boy, and you have to climb up the ladder. First sit in the office, then work on the shore, and then go to sea Work. Climb all the way to the top. Don't you tell Dad I said so. Janice is an only child and Ragucho's business does twenty million dollars a year. Of course, as long as I can fly a day, I won't do it Something else." The pale red church was built of stone and topped by a square bell tower.Inside the church, two men in smocks were arranging a large number of flowers and were just about to finish.An unseen organist was up and down playing a Bach overture. "Nobody can say I made Janice wait at church," Warren said. "Almost an hour to the wedding, we can still talk, it's cool in here." They sat in the middle row of empty seats covered with purple cushions.The music, the scent of flowers, and the special smell of the church that he used to smell in his childhood caused Byron to have ups and downs of thought.He felt again the way he used to be a pious boy, sitting or standing next to his father, singing along with him, or trying to understand what the pastor was saying about the vague and very marvelous Lord Jesus thing.If married to Natalie, there would be no wedding like this.What will their wedding be like?Going to church is out of the question.What would it be like to have a rabbi officiate at a wedding?They never talked about it at all.The two brothers sat side by side and remained silent for a long time.Warren felt somewhat remorseful again, and partly devoutly determined to repent, of the indulgence of the night before.His heart is producing the passion of being a bridegroom. "Brani, say something, I'm a little nervous. Who knows when we'll have a chance to talk together again?" Byron smiled thoughtfully.Warren noticed again how beautiful his younger brother had become. "When we were kids we went to church together, it was a long time ago." "Yes. Janice likes to go to church. I think if the walls around here don't come down and kill me now, I've got hope. You know, Blaney, it might all work out quite well: if you Go to submarine school and you can ask to go to Pearl Harbor for a mission; maybe the four of us can end up there together for two years. How nice it is!" Natalie often visited her rich classmates' homes in college, but it was not as luxurious as Ragucho's house. The winding stone house stood on a privately owned piece of land in the bay, surrounded by a moss It is surrounded by plaster walls, and there is a gatekeeper with a livid face behind the iron gate.She felt an atmosphere of refinement, solitude, and isolation all around her.There were many rooms, with antique furniture, Persian rugs, great standing clocks, huge paintings, thick old hangings, iron utensils, large gilded mirrors, old-fashioned photographs—the whole place made her uneasy.Janice came rushing out to meet her, dressed in pink homely clothes, her blond hair falling to her shoulders. "Hey! It's so kind of you to come so late. Look at me. I haven't slept all night. I'm so tired that I can't see clearly. I'll never be ready. I'll go get you Make it sooner." "Don't bother, just let me stay in any corner for a while before you leave. I'm fine." Janice studied her carefully with her big tired but piercing red-brown eyes, this cheerful girl, pink dress, blonde hair, made Natalie realize that her own black eyes, black hair, The linen coat was wrinkled and sad and lazy. "No wonder Byron captivated you. My God, you're beautiful. Come with me." Janice led her to a sunken breakfast cabin facing the sea.A maid brought her eggs and tea on silver trays in ancient bluish-white china cups and trays.After eating, she felt better, although she was still uncomfortable.Outside, several sailboats were sailing swiftly in the sunshine.The clock at home ding-dang-dang... rang again and again, nine times.She could hear excited voices upstairs. She took the letter from Miami out of the purse, where it had weighed like a piece of lead all the way: five single-line typewritten pages, so smudged that her eyes ached.Apparently Ellen didn't want to learn to change typewriter ribbons when she died. The letter described a series of unfortunate encounters.He had a broken ankle, and in the week after Byron was gone, he was visiting some cathedrals with a French art critic—an old friend.In Oviedo, he stumbled and fell on the stone floor as he climbed a ladder to see a fresco that was too far away to see.To make matters worse, his long-lost nationality was in question again, and he was taking it seriously for the first time. Around 1900, due to his father's naturalization, he obtained "accepted nationality"; but difficulties arose because he did not live in the United States for a long time.According to file records, there are conflicting accounts of his age at the time of his father's naturalization.The Consul General in Rome, I thought he was a nice person after talking to him, but unfortunately he was a very stubborn official.He asked probing questions and demanded endless papers.Ellen leaves Rome in great bewilderment.In his letter, he said: I decided to throw the whole thing away, and I could be wrong on this one too.This was last December.I felt like a fly strayed into a spider's web, and the more I struggled, the tighter I got entangled.At the time I didn't really want to go back home.I think if I put this aside and ask for a replacement passport later - especially if the consul general changes by then - they will issue it to me.It was just a question of stamping a purple stamp and paying a handling fee of two yuan. I thought at the time, and I still think so now, that it would be hard to imagine that I would not be allowed to return to my motherland, let alone in the "Dictionary of Celebrities" in the United States. And my name!He had approached the Florentine consulate during the panic in Norway.A "superficial but nice-looking guy with a crew cut" there admitted that these were meaningless technicalities; Feeling very relieved to find a way to solve the difficulty, Jastrow went to visit the cathedral.I originally made an appointment to go to the consulate two weeks later, but due to a broken ankle, I couldn't keep the appointment.The letter went on to say: What happened next I still don't understand.I don't know whether it was out of stupidity or malice, it's hard to believe.Xiaopingtou wrote me a letter.The tone is very polite.Basically, I was in serious trouble as a wartime stateless man, but he thought he had figured out a way.Congress recently passed an act allowing the admission of certain special categories of refugees.If I apply under the Act, I probably won't get into any more trouble because I'm a well-known Jew.Here is his suggestion. Can you understand how stupid he was to write this letter, and how much harm this letter did to me?I received this letter five days ago, and my anger has not yet subsided.First, he asked me to give up all rights to claim to be an American (which I was) regardless of whether my papers were complete, and to join the ranks of European Jewish ranks of refugees. What's more, he put all these words on paper and sent them in the mail. Even if he's an idiot, I don't believe he doesn't even know that Italians open and read consulate letters.I will never understand why Xiaopingtou did this.I have to suspect that there is an undercurrent of anti-Semitism here too.The germ, which spreads in the air of Europe, finds shelter and multiplies in certain human beings.The Italian authorities are now aware of my problem.This made my situation even more disadvantageous and worrying. Every day I sat in a wheelchair, enjoying the bright sunshine on the terrace, alone except for the Italian servants, feeling more and more anxious.Finally I decided to write to you and ask my French friend to send it for you. Natalie, I have been too negligent on this serious matter.I can only explain that this is because before the war none of these things seemed to matter.I know that these things are still nothing to you now.You were born on American soil, and I was born on the banks of the Vistula.I kind of learned a lesson recently that there is a huge difference, and that I understand the meaning of personal identity.I really have to clarify my situation. Fortunately, the matter was not so urgent, Siena was quiet, and the food supply was plentiful again.My ankle is healing too, and war is like summer thunder in the distance.I'm getting on with my job, but I'd better figure out my right to go home.It was hard to know when and where the moustachioed villain would make his next move. ① Refers to Hitler. Please tell Leslie Sloter all this, will you?He was in Washington, and at the heart of things, and a word could cut the noose of the hangman's routine if he got the right way.If he still has the slightest concern for me, ask him to do this.I could have written to him directly, but I know things would go a little faster if you begged him.Please do so. Jastrow wrote a very touching passage about Natalie's father.He blamed himself for his estrangement from her father, saying it was due to the self-absorbed nature of a scholar.He hopes to treat her like his own daughter, although the father's position can never be replaced by others.Then came a section about Byron, so it was difficult for Natalie to show Byron the letter.Have you seen Byron yet?I miss him.He has an oddly endearing air: brave, funny, reserved, strong.I've met hundreds of boys and none quite as likable as he.A young man in his twenties shouldn't act like a child anymore, but he still acts like a child.There was a romantic glow about him.As long as Byron has a certain talent or drive, he may have a bright future. He's stubborn at times, and he's often able to offer some insight.He said that Hegel's world spirit is God minus Christianity.This is of course a cliché, but he added: It is easy to believe that God sacrificed himself for mankind, but it is more difficult to believe that God managed to destroy himself by exposing human folly.I like his statement very much.It's a pity that he made this one good opinion, and many others are mediocre.For example: "Nietzsche is nothing but a fool," and "No one would read Fichte if he could understand what he was saying," etc.If I had to grade Byron's grades in our special tutorial class devoted to Sloter's list of books, I'd give him a "c minus." I used to catch him reading your letter over and over in the lemon room.The poor kid is madly infatuated with you.Are you aware of this?I hope you don't inadvertently hurt him.I am also a little surprised that you write to him so often. In spite of all my troubles, I can still be called a good boy, and the "Constantine the Great" is on the eighty-forty-seventh page. The clock struck half the hour before Natalie woke up, and from the terrace of Siena—she could picture Ellen Jastrow sitting writing these words in her blue scarf—back to the luxurious mansion of La Couture on the Pensacola Bay. "Oh, God," she said to herself, "oh, my God." There was a sound of footsteps on the stairs, and many voices were shouting, laughing, and talking.The bride burst into the long dining room like a gust of wind.Her blond hair was combed brilliantly, coiled with pearls, and her pink cheeks were cheerful. "I'm ready, let's go." Natalie stood up immediately and stuffed Ellen Jastrow's letter in her wallet. "Oh, you're so pretty! You're so pretty!" Janice tiptoed and spun around. "bless you." The white brocade clings tightly to the sides of her waist and chest, covering her throat like smooth skin, showing a dignified appearance.She moved in a fringe of white lace.This pure white color with the coquettish skin is very ecstasy.Natalie was surprised and a little envious.There was an ironic gleam in the bride's eyes.After that wild night before her wedding, Janice • Raguqiu felt that he was just like the promiscuous Empress Catherine of Russia, not a holy virgin.The incident did not disturb her, on the contrary, she found it rather amusing. "Let's go," she said. "You ride with me." She took the Jewish girl by the arm. "I tell you, if I hadn't been marrying Warren Henry, I'd have fought you over that little Braney. He's an Adonis, and lovely. Henry's man!" ①A beautiful man in Greek mythology. Rhoda hurried back to the hotel, took a shower in a panic, and changed clothes.She pulled out her make-up from this travel bag, her underwear from that travel bag, and from the third bag her new blouse from Bergdorf Goodman.Dr. Kirby chartered a small plane and flew here with her and Madeline. "He saved our lives!" trembled Rhoda, running around in a thin green dress. "If you come on the last flight from New York, you won't even have time to do the shopping. Then your daughter and I will have to come to this wedding in shabby clothes. Since Kirby chartered the flight, we Just a whole afternoon of shopping. Pug, you've never seen things go so fast. What a dress!" She held the green blouse to her chest. "Found it at the last second. Seriously, it's so much fun to fly in a small plane. I fell asleep most of the way. But when I wake up, it's so funny, you totally feel like you're flying." "He's a nice guy," said Pug. "Is Fred that rich?" "Well, of course I wouldn't let him do it, but he said it was all paid for by his company this time, and he went on to Birmingham on this plane today. I don't want to argue too much, my dear. It saved the day." me. Buckle up for me, Pug, did Braney really bring that jewish girl here? What's up with it. I've never seen her. She gotta sit with us. , others will think she is a member of our family." "Looks like she's going to be part of our family, Rhoda." "I don't believe it, I just don't. Come to think of it, how much older is she than Byron? Four years? Byron boy! He likes to give us headaches, always. It's not a thing. Pug, what are you doing?" Coming back so late? My God, it's hot in here." "She was two years older than Byron, and very pretty indeed." "I'm kind of curious when you say that. Let me tell you, I picture her like one of those tough Brooklyn dolls that walk past you in a New York department store? Well, don't be so clumsy." Fumbled around, I'm going to button the top. Man, I'm almost scorched. I'm sweating like a river, and this dress will probably be black before I go to church." Natalie knew within half a minute that this pretty woman in a green tulle dress and a white straw hat decorated with roses did not like her.A polite handshake outside a church, a stiff smile, says it all.Pug introduces Natalie to Madeleine as "Byron's companion in Poland," and it's clear that Pug wants to make up for his wife's icy attitude with a bad joke. "Oh, right! That was an adventure!" Madeleine Henry smiled, looking up and down at Natalie.Her own pearl-gray outfit was the prettiest that could be seen. "I'd like to hear you tell me the details someday. I haven't seen Braney yet, you know, and we haven't seen each other for more than two years." "He shouldn't have rushed off to Miami like that," Natalie said, feeling a little blush. "What does it matter?" said Madeline, smiling a little like Byron.It is strange to see Byron's traits in members of his family.Lady Henry, like Byron, had a longer neck and held her head upright.Now Byron seemed more distant.He was no longer himself, no longer the young companion she had been with in Poland and Jastrow's study, no longer even the son of a forbidding father, but to She was part of a group that was very strange to her. The church was full of people.Natalie had been feeling awkward ever since she went in.The Catholic cathedrals did not bother her; they had become places of interest to visit.On Roman Catholicism, although she could write a good treatise, it, like Islam, has its own complex structure.Protestantism is another religion.She would have been Protestant had she not been Jewish.Now that she was in a Protestant church, she was stepping into enemy territory.Rhoda was sitting on the pew in the church, and there wasn't enough room for her, so Natalie had to squeeze her in a little bit, said sorry softly, and entered the seat from the aisle. The women all around are dressed in brightly colored or light and elegant clothes.Officers and Air Force cadets mostly wore white uniforms with gold trim.Natalie, on the other hand, wore black linen to her wedding in May.She had chosen it hastily, because she was vaguely aware that she was still in mourning, and that she was always an outsider here.People looked at her furtively and talked in low voices.This is not her imagination, this is a fact.How exquisite and beautiful this church is!Dark carved ceilings, arched from both sides of the light red stone walls, and amazing piles of flowers!How pleasant, how comfortable, how normal it must be to be born an Episcopal or Methodist, and how wonderful it would be to have such a wedding!Maybe Ellen Jastrow is right, and it would be irresponsible to encourage Byron to take care of his love.Leslie Slote was a dry, book-gnawing heretic, like herself, and they even talked about having their wedding officiated by a judge.A priest in robes arrives, Bible in hand, and the service begins. The bride walked step by step from the aisle of the church, holding the arm of the senator, moving like a beautiful big cat. At this moment, Rhoda began to cry. She recalled Warren's childhood, recalled her own wedding, Other people's weddings, thinking of the young men who had asked her to marry, and thinking of herself—a doll raised by a mother who was not twenty years old, and now he has grown into such a beautiful groom, all of which Thoughts flooded into her mind together.She lowered her head in a beautiful hat and took out her handkerchief.For a split second she forgot the sad Jewish girl next to her in black, and even Bam Kirby, who was a head taller than the others sitting three rows back.When Victor Henry took her hand tenderly, she held it tight, pressing it against her lap.What a beautiful pair of sons they raised, both standing there! Pug stood up, bent forward slightly, almost at attention.His face was gloomy and stern, he was marveling at how quickly his years had passed, and once again felt that he really didn't think too much of Warren, and he had deliberately restrained himself from thinking about him before, because he had a very big affection for Warren hope. Standing beside his brother, Byron felt that many eyes were sizing up and comparing the two of them.He was a little embarrassed by Warren's military uniform and that of the others in the church.In Byron's eyes, the overly-cut Italian suit he was wearing seemed soft and frivolous, much like women's clothing, in contrast to Warren's natural-cut white uniform. When Janice lifts her veil and prepares to kiss, she and Warren exchange a loving look, one that's unspokenly intimate and playful. "How do you feel now?" he whispered. "Still standing still, God knows how to stand still, you bad guy." The pastor looked at them with a big smile on his face, so they hugged, kissed, and laughed.Thus they embraced each other in church, and the good that the war had just alluded to in their jest would stick with them forever, and no outsider would ever know. Cars lined up in front of the beach club just a few hundred yards from Raguqiu's home.The jubilant crowd kept pouring into the tented doorway for the wedding feast. "I dare say I must be the only Jew in Pensacola," Natalie said.She took Byron's arm and fell a little behind. "When I go through that door, someone else will strike the gong." He couldn't help laughing. "Not at all." She was pleased to make him laugh. "Probably not. But I do think it would have made your mother happier if a wall had come down and killed me in Warsaw. " Now, five or six paces behind them, Rhoda was answering a cousin of hers from Washington who had said that Byron's girlfriend was stunningly beautiful.Rhoda said: "It's really amazing, it's really interesting, she's almost like an Armenian or an Arab. Byron met her in Italy." With a glass of champagne in his hand, Byron pulled Natalie tightly from room to room, introducing them to the wedding party. "Don't say I'm your fiancee." Natalie ordered him in advance. "They can think what they want. We don't have to." She saw Colonel Henry's father, a retired engineer from the lumber trade, a small, straight, wrinkled man with thick hair.白发，他是从加利福尼亚州赶来的，看上去好象操劳了一生；她也见到，亨利的父亲的胖得出奇的兄弟，他在西雅图经营冷饮生意；还见到其他亨利家族的人以及许多罗达娘家——华盛顿城格罗佛家的人。从华盛顿来的亲戚从服装、举止到言谈都显得很特殊，不仅和来自加利福尼亚的人们不同，甚至和拉古秋在彭萨科拉的朋友也很不同，相形之下，后者似乎都俗里俗气。 杰妮丝和华伦走过来，呆了一会，开开玩笑，吃点喝点，然后跳舞。他们和大家一一握过手之后便不见了。由于他们时间有限，谁也不会责怪他们。但是他们并没有表现出急于去享受他们新婚的快乐。 华伦邀请娜塔丽共舞，他们进入舞池后，他立刻说：“今天早上我告诉拜伦说，我是赞成你的，虽然当时还没看见你本人。” “你常常这样盲目冒险吗？一个飞行员应该更谨慎一些。” “我了解你在华沙的举动。这就足够了。” “你使我高兴起来，我在这里一直觉得非常别扭。” “不必要，杰妮丝和我一样也赞成你。认识你之后，拜伦似乎已经和以前不同了，”华伦说。“他有许多长处，但是没有一个人能使他发挥他的长处。我一直希望有一天有个姑娘能够使他开窍。我现在认为你就是这个姑娘。” 罗达•亨利突然跑了过来，手里拿着一杯香槟酒。她叫他们去坐到靠窗的那张大桌上，和家里人团聚一起。可能是因为喝了点酒，她对娜塔丽的态度亲切了些。在这张桌子上，拉古秋正在得意地使用他本人惯用的词句说，总统要求每年生产五万架飞机，这“在政治上是歇斯底里的，在财政上是不负责任的，在工业上是难以想象的”。就连德国空军总共也不到一万架飞机，而且它没有任何一架轰炸机能飞到苏格兰那样远的地方，更别说飞越大西洋了。十亿美元！主张军事干预的报刊正在那里大吹大擂，这是很自然的，但是如果国会的辩论能够再继续一个多星期，这笔拨款要求就吹了。“在我们和欧洲之间有三千英里非常好的绿色海洋，”他说，“这对我们来讲，比五十万架飞机还保险。罗斯福急急忙忙要求生产更多的飞机，其实是为了送给英国和法国。但是他从来不肯站出来这么说。我们这位无所畏惧的总统就是有点儿不那么坦率。” “那么，你愿意看着英国和法国垮台。”帕格•亨利说。 “人们总是这样提问，”拉古秋说。“你应该问我，我究竟愿不愿意把三百万美国青年送到海外去和德国人作战，以维持欧洲的现状，因为这才是问题的实质，这一点永远也不要忘记。” 巴穆•柯比插进来说：“议员先生，可是英国海军正在不要分文地维持我们的现状呢。如果纳粹把英国海军搞到手，希特勒的手就可以伸到彭萨科拉海湾来。” 拉古秋逗笑地说：“对了，我可以设想'罗得尼号'和'纳尔逊号'飘着a字旗来到这里，向我们这座可怜的古老的海滨俱乐部开炮。” 他这句话引起了围桌而坐的各种类型的姻戚们哈哈大笑。罗达说：“想的可真有趣。”维克多•亨利说：“他们要来的不是这个地方。” “他们根本就不会来，”拉古秋说。“这是《纽约时报》的论调。如果英国人陷入困境，他们就会把丘吉尔赶下台，和德国妥协。但是只要他们认为还有一线希望可以使罗斯福政府、英国的同情者以及纽约的犹太人去帮助他们，他们自然会坚持下去。” “我是丹佛地方的人，”柯比说。“我的祖籍是爱尔兰。”当拉古秋提到犹太人的时候，他和维克多•亨利看了娜塔丽一眼。 “可是，错误是有传染性的，”这位议员非常温和地说。 “并且是不分国界的。” 他们吃着火鸡、烤牛排，喝着香槟酒，轻松愉快地谈着战争，旁边是一个宽大的赏景窗，窗外可以看见海滨上的阳伞、白色的沙滩和倾斜的帆船，这种情景使娜塔丽非常恼火。拉古秋最后一句话刺了她一下，她大声说：“我到过华沙，当时这个城正遭到围困。”拉古秋镇定地说：“对，你们是在那儿，你和拜伦两人。情况很坏，是不是？” “德国人连续三个星期轰炸一个未设防的城市。他们炸毁了所有的医院。只留下一所，就是我为之工作的那所。受伤的人象木料一样堆积在入口处的门廊上。在一家医院里，许多孕妇被烧死。” 在喧闹的宴会上只有这张桌子一时鸦雀无声。这位议员用两个手指捏着一个空香槟酒杯转来转去。“这类事情几世纪以来在欧洲就没有断过，我亲爱的，这正是我希望美国人民免于遭受的事。” “我昨天听到一个笑话，”一个戴着钢边眼镜的脸长得很有趣的男人一面说一面笑。“艾培和他一家人开车到迈阿密去，走到旦巴汽车没有汽油了，于是他们开到加油站，站上的服务员问他：'油①？'老艾培说：'犹太人又怎么样？难道我们就加不得油？'” ①原文“油”（juice）与“犹太人”（jews）谐音。 这个有趣的人又大笑起来，其他人也跟着大笑。娜塔丽可以看出他没有什么恶意，只不过想缓和一下谈话中出现的这种认真的气氛。可她还是很高兴看到拜伦这时候来找她跳舞，使她能离开这里。 “什么时候才能结束？”她说，“我们到外面去好吗？我不想跳舞。” “好，我有话跟你说。” 他们在强烈的阳光下坐在平台的矮墙上头，旁边就是通向白色沙滩的楼梯，离那个赏景窗不远。拉古秋仍在窗子后面发表着议论，摇着他那白发苍苍的头，挥舞着一只胳臂。 拜伦身体向前弯着，胳臂肘放在膝上，两手手指紧扣在一起。“亲爱的，我想我就在这里参加了。我索性今天或明天就乘飞机到新伦敦去作体格检查，以便——你怎么啦？” 她的脸突然颤动了一下。“没什么，说下去吧。你刚才说要乘飞机去新伦敦。” “你同意我才去。从现在起，凡不是我们俩一致同意的事，我都不干，而且永远如此。” "OK." “我去作体格检查。我也了解一下情况，确定一个已婚的申请者仍有机会入学，而且一旦录取入学，他还可以有时间和妻子在一起。这样就解决了咱们婚后的头几个月——也许第一年的问题。我最后会分配到一个潜艇基地去。等我实习完了，你也可以来，就象杰妮丝那样，我们大家可能最后都在珍珠港相聚。夏威夷有一个大学，你甚至可以在那里教书。” “我的上帝，你可绞尽了脑汁想出这些吧，是不是？” 维克多•亨利从门里出来，走到平台。拜伦仰起头来，冷淡而疏远地说：“找我吗？” “对了。我知道你要开车送梅德琳到机场，走的时候别忘了叫我一下。我刚和华盛顿联系过，我得赶回去。你母亲仍留在这里。” “飞机几点起飞？”娜塔丽说。 “一点四十。” “你借点钱给我好吗？”她向拜伦说。“我也想乘这架飞机去华盛顿。” 帕格说：“噢？很高兴和你同行，”说完又回到俱乐部里去。 “你要到华盛顿去！”拜伦说。“上那里去干什么？去大声疾呼什么吗？” 她用手掌托着拜伦的脸。“是为了埃伦•杰斯特罗叔叔的国籍问题。趁你去新伦敦的时候我可以办一下这件事。我的上帝，你怎么了？你的样子好象挨了一枪似的？” “你说错了，我给你买飞机票钱。” “拜伦，听我说，我的确非去那里不可。而且要是先往南飞到迈阿密，然后又马上再折回华盛顿，那显然是胡来。你明白吗？最多一两天就回来。” “我说我给你飞机票钱。” 娜塔丽深深叹了一口气。“亲爱的，你听我说。我给你看埃伦的信。他叫我找莱斯里•斯鲁特谈谈他的护照问题，他开始为这件事感到忧虑。”她打开钱包。 “拿信干什么？”拜伦宜直地站着。 "I believe you." 虽然帕格再三说新郎时间很少还有更重要的事要办，华伦仍然坚持要到机场去。“我怎么知道什么时候才能再见到你们？”华伦一再地这样说，罗达和杰妮丝也卷入这场辩论，结果是亨利一家加上新娘和娜塔丽全都塞进拉古秋的卡迪勒克牌大轿车。 罗达出来时手里拿着一瓶香槟酒和几个酒杯。“我们这个家让这个倒霉愚蠢的战争弄得七零八落。”她说，并且把酒杯传给大家，这时拜伦正在发动汽车。“这是经过多少年了我们才第一次聚会一起？可是我们在一起连十二个小时都不到！我说，既然是个短时间的团聚，就应该快快活活。谁唱点什么？” 于是，在卡迪勒克牌轿车开往机场的路上他们唱起《喇叭裤》、《她头上结了一条黄丝带》、《我有六便士》和《友谊地久天长》。娜塔丽挤在罗达和梅德琳中间，想和大家一起唱，可是她就会唱《友谊地久天长》这一支歌。罗达把一个杯子硬塞给她，并且斟得满满的，酒的泡沫流到姑娘的手指上了。 “哎呀，对不起，亲爱的。还好，幸亏你的衣服是黑色的。”她一面说一面用手帕擦娜塔丽膝盖上的衣服，当汽车驶进机场入口时，他们正唱着一支娜塔丽从来没听见过的歌，这是帕格从加利福尼亚带回来的，已经成为他们家庭最爱唱的歌： 直到我们再见时，直到我们再见时， 直到我们在耶稣脚下见面， 直到我们再见时，直到我们再见时， 上帝保佑你，直到我们再见面。 罗达•亨利用香槟酒浸湿的手帕捂着脸哭了起来。她说，华伦的婚礼非常令人满意，她这是由于幸福而流出的眼泪。