Chapter 34 Chapter Thirty-Four

Pamela has remained in London.She knew it was a night attack, and she knew it was a long way.It's not hard to figure out when Victor Henry will be back.At ten o'clock in the morning she went to the apartment where he lived--no one else lived there--and persuaded the cleaning lady to let her in.She sat in that dingy living room, trying to read the newspaper, and all she could do was count the minutes, hoping he was still alive. Pug Henry came into her life at an unfortunate moment.Her parents divorced when she was less than fourteen years old.Her mother remarried, led a new life, and left her alone.Alister Tudsbury traveled a lot and let her board at the school.When she grew up, she was beautiful and charming, very graceful, but a little wild, and she had already had several sexual affairs before she was twenty years old.She was in her early twenties when she met Philippe Rule, a tall, blond journalist who shared an apartment with Leslie Sloter for a while in Paris.Ruhr, the ruthless, deceitful, wisecracking, and depraved man, bit by bit destroyed her ambition, her self-confidence, and almost her will to live.At last she broke with him, overcome her suicidal depression, and went to serve him at her father's.In this case, she met Victor and Rhoda Henry on the cruise ship "Bremen".

She had never met a man quite like Lieutenant Colonel Henry: distant, taciturn, clearly an old-fashioned, narrow-minded professional, but keen and likable.From the very beginning she had a crush on him, and later she liked him more and more.In a ship this attraction is often of an unrealistic intensity, but generally disappears as soon as one sets foot on land.Pamela, on the other hand, became more attached to him when she met him again in Berlin.There, she realizes that Pug has grown to like her too.However, the occurrence of the war interrupted their exchanges, and later they met only once in Washington.

When Victor Henry came to London, Pamela was already planning to marry the fighter pilot; the visit of the elder who had been somewhat congenial to her on the ship did not cause any change.But then Garrard disappeared, and she was with Pug for a fortnight.In wartime, as on ships, relationships developed quickly.So far nothing has happened between them.He had put his arms around her awkwardly once when they were watching the German bomber raids; that was all.But Pamela thought to herself now that whatever the married man's opinions and concerns, she could sleep with him whenever and wherever she liked.

But Pam had no intention of seducing Colonel Henry on what he called a "shack tryst."According to Henry's disapproving opinion, Brink Vance had a tryst with Mrs. Maud Northwood in the shack; although this "shack" was actually the most expensive apartment in May City, and Mrs. Maud had a slightly long face , is indeed a smart and charming woman.Pamela had no faith in Victor Henry's morals.She thought it was nothing but gossip and gossip that kept her from enjoying a little fun with this lonely man.But that was the case with him.She had made up her mind not to disappoint or offend him as much as possible.It was about noon when the lock on the door rang.When Pug came in, he heard the noon news broadcast from the apartment.He called out, "Hey, who's in there?"

Footsteps sounded in the living room.The girl came at him like a blue bullet. "Oh, my God, you're back." "What's going on!" Victor Henry finally said between kisses. "What are you doing here?" "I slipped out without asking for leave. I'm going to be court-martialed and shot. I've been sitting here for a week. Your maid let me in. Aha!" she murmured happily, Kiss him again and again.Pug, a little flustered by the sudden attack, kissed her back blankly, not quite believing what was happening before him.Pam said, "Jesus, Colonel Henry, you really smell like wine."

"It was a final debrief. They treat you to a big breakfast and lots of wine, and then you talk." It was hard for him to go on because Pamela kept kissing him.He instinctively began to respond to the passionate girl snuggled up beside him, despite being dead sleepy standing up.He hugged her back and kissed her.He was suddenly assailed, and although everything seemed strange as in a dream, he had no intention of stopping.He had dealt with death for only a few hours, and he was still in a daze. "Hey, what does that mean?" he said in a low voice. "Is this a reward for the hero who returns victorious, hey?"

Slowly and lovingly, she kissed all over his face.She lifted her head from his arms and looked into his eyes. "Exactly, that's right." "But I've done nothing but take a seat, burn gas, and get in people's way. Still, Pam, I have to thank you. You're so pretty, and I'm flattered by your welcome." His evident exhaustion, his clumsy, absurd gestures, the antics with which he did not know what to do with his arms around the strange woman, aroused a deep tenderness in her. "Looks like you're totally broken," she said as she left his arms. "Totally exhausted. Wasn't it a good trip?"

"It's been a little longer." "A drink? Something to eat?" "I think I'd better have a drink. I don't think it's all right, but I'd better get some sleep." "I think so too." She led him into the darkened bedroom.The bed was made and the pajamas were taken out.She mixed the wine for him calmly, and when she returned to the bedroom, he was already asleep.Contrary to his usual habit, the floor was littered with his tweed uniform, which Airman Halton had been lucky enough to miss.A hand kept pushing his shoulder lightly. "Colonel Henry! It's five o'clock. The embassy is calling you." He opened his eyes. "What? Which embassy?"

It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, how Pamela Tudsbury had come to be bending over him in uniform, with such an intimate and happy smile on her face.He was back on the "Flandy" in his dream, fumbling for a cloth with which to wipe the poor wing-tail gunner's vomit on him; still smelling the imaginary stench in his nose.He sat up and sniffed.The smell of roasted meat wafted in through the open door, dispelling the stench of the dream. "what is that?" "I think you're hungry by now." "But where did you get food? There's nothing in the fridge but beer and soda."

"I went out to buy it." He took a cold shower to wake himself up, but he still had the feeling of being in a dream as he shaved and dressed.He's still not used to the miracle of coming back alive to normal circumstances.The sense of wonder was heightened by vague recollections of Pamela's warm welcome. "Damn it!" he said. "Where and how did you get all this?" A salad, a bowl of fruit, baguettes and a bottle of red wine were alluringly piled on the small table.She was humming a song in the kitchen.She came in with two plates of steak and said: "Well, I'm a cat in a London alley now, and I know where to get food. Sit down and eat. The stove doesn't work very well, but I've I did my best."

He cut open the meat and took a big bite.The bread is soft on the inside and crisp on the outside; the strong wine tastes good.Pug Henry ate with relish like a kid coming home from skiing.Pamela also cut a piece of steak and ate it, not taking her eyes off Victor Henry as he gobbled it up. "Well," she said. "You're kind of hungry, aren't you?" "Of course, it's delicious. It's the best meat, the best wine, and the best bread I've ever had." "You're underrated, but I'm glad you ate well. I'm trying to make up for my stupid attitude when you left." "Pam, I'm glad I made the trip. It was the right decision." "Oh, now that you're back, there's no room for argument. I apologize." Victor Henry put down his knife and fork.All his senses were sharpened again.To him, Pamela Tudsbury looked radiant and beautiful.He recalled the two of them kissing wildly at the door, and couldn't help but feel fluttering in his heart. "I forgive you." "Okay." She drank the wine and looked at him from the glass. "Do you know that I liked you on board the steamer Bremen? Did you feel it too? In Berlin I went to great lengths to keep my fate from being bound to you. But I was Knowing it couldn't be done. You were too faithful to your wife." "Exactly," said Pug. "Gibraltar Reef. I guess I was a fool, but I didn't realize it at the time, Pamela." "Yes, that's right. I really didn't look like that one or two years ago. It was good for me to be able to like a man like that at that time. Not long after that, I fell in love with Tide madly." A sad shadow passed by her face. "I almost believed in God when you opened the door a few hours ago. It's a strawberry pie." "You lie to me." "I kid you not. I passed a pastry shop and saw the pies were pretty good." He reached out and grabbed her slender wrist.Her skin was smooth and tender to his rough fingers, just as his mouth had touched her lips. "Pam, I'm so overwhelmed with admiration for you, a London alley cat." "I'm glad. I'll be sad to think about it if my crazy enthusiasm isn't reciprocated. Let go so I can get you strawberry pie and coffee. It's almost six o'clock. Vance The colonel must make you go to the embassy at six-thirty." "What are you going to do? Back to Uxbridge?" "What are you going to do? That's what matters." "First I have to figure out what Brinker wants me to do." "Shall I go back to my place and wait for your call?" "Okay, Pam. Please do that." They parted on the sidewalk.He kept looking back at her shrinking figure in the blue uniform, and saw her walking among the people, twisting her body strangely, as he had first noticed on the steamer Bremen. There are thousands of such swaggering little women's auxiliaries in London. He felt reborn.He smiled at the people he met in the street, and they smiled back at him.Young girls are as charming as starlets, older women are elegant.The men were all great gentlemen; lean-shouldered, pale-faced civil servants with briefcases and bowler hats, passing soldiers, wrinkled old men with gray beards, A fat man with a liver-colored face in a tweed suit.They all had the kind of morale he had seen in the camp at Big King Hill and on the Ferlandy.They were all English, and belonged to the happy race.The sunlight that shines through the leaves on Grosvenal Square is golden.The leaves were emerald green and the sky was as blue as the uniform of the Women's Auxiliary Air Force.What a wonderful world!How foolish are those Europeans to destroy each other with cannon fire and dynamite the houses that have been built with such painstaking labor!Everything was scrubbed clean, or so it seemed to his clear, curious eyes like a child's—the shiny cars, the advertiser in the window, the box of red geraniums on the window sill.He noticed that the sidewalk was emitting small flashes of light in the setting sun. The American flag flying over the embassy's second floor gave Pug a sudden burst of pride.The red, white, and blue colors of the flag look so bright, and its slow movement is so majestic, it seems that a symphony orchestra composed of sixty instruments is playing "The Star-Spangled Banner"; but there is no orchestra in the square, Some are just the noise of passing vehicles.He sat for a while on a bench, looking at the flag, feeling that he loved life, wished fervently for a few more years in this splendid world through which he had passed blindly like a bat in the past .The austere, brawny, nameless U.S. Navy captain sat transfixed on a bench in a London park, feeling an excitement so intense that he himself didn't find the source until the end.At first he thought it was a reaction to his own bombing mission.The simple joy of being alive in a dive bomber after battling death in the blue fan of searchlights and the gorgeous sparks of anti-aircraft guns.But more than that.He hadn't had this excitement in twenty-five years, and he didn't want to have it again, so it took him a long time to understand it.Things couldn't be simpler.He fell in love. A black Cadillac pulled up in front of the embassy, ​​and a naval admiral Pug knew, two army generals, and Brink Vance got out.Pug hurried across the street. "Hi, Pug!" Admiral Benden held out a fat hand.This formidable general is his old boss in the Operations Planning Department.He was short and chubby, with a round, oily face and a round, bald head.Despite his quick temper, Pug liked him because he was shrewd, dashing, quiet and open-minded.Be open to criticism.He is also an expert in marksmanship and is the number one in the navy.His flaw was his political intransigence; he saw the New Deal as a Communist conspiracy. Brink Vance led the four into a quiet, cherry-panelled conference room on the second floor and walked away.They were seated at one end of a long, gleaming table surrounded by twenty blue leather chairs.General Benden sat at the head, with the two generals on either side of him, and Pug just below the younger-looking one. "Damn it, Pug," Benden began, "the ambassador said he would have stopped you if he had known about your reconnaissance flight. He was right. We don't want the Army and its aviation regiments— —" He gestured to the other two, "Have such an idea, the navy is a fool in training." It sounds like Benden is very satisfied with Pug. "These gentlemen and I have been waiting for you to return from that damned stupid excursion. This is General Anderson, and this General Fitzgerald is in the Army Air Corps." Benden glanced. He glanced at those two. "Well, shall we start now?" General Fitzgerald, who sat next to Pug, waved his long fingers together.He had fair curly hair and a fine face; if he hadn't had that hard look in his light blue eyes he would have looked like an artist or an actor. "General, I would personally like to hear about the Colonel's bombing trips." "Me too," Anderson said.Victor Henry only now recognized him as Tran Anderson, a football star at West Point around 1910.Anderson is bulky, with a broad jaw, thinning hair slicked tightly over a pink scalp. Victor Henry gives a matter-of-fact account of his adventures on the bomber. "Brilliant!" Benden blurted out when Pug told of the explosion at the gasworks. All three senior officers listened nervously as he narrated how to fly back in a wounded plane; how he lost all the weight he could in order to maintain altitude; flight.When Pug finished, Tran Anderson lit a cigar and leaned on a stout elbow. "Interesting story, Colonel. But it was just a symbolic bombing. Isn't it? Berlin doesn't seem to have suffered much compared to here. I suppose you've been to the docks?" "Yes, sir." "We went around there today, and the Germans blew up the area. At this rate, London won't be a port in a week. What's next? Famine? Plague?" "The docklands are big," said Pug. "They have a good repair team and fire brigade, General. Worse than it is." The general of the Army Air Corps gracefully interlaced his fingers. "Have you ever been in a public bomb shelter, Henry? We went in one of the air raids. It's just a small concrete hole. Nobody can escape a bomb. It stinks of unwashed bodies and piss. Crowded with nervous, jittery old men and crying children. Scrawled in chalk on the ceiling: THIS IS A JEWS WAR. We also went to the subway last night. A lot of people slept on the tracks and On the platform, it was so dirty that it was a breeding ground for typhoid fever." "Much less disease and casualty than they reckoned, sir," said Pug. "Hospitals still have thousands of empty beds." "The man named Vance told us so," Anderson put in. "They'll be full, though. Well, Colonel Henry, you're an observer here, and you've been sending optimistic reports to the President recommending full assistance." "Not entirely optimistic, sir, but it is true to recommend adequate assistance." "Probably you're a little bit out of touch with what's going on across the ocean. Let me read something for you, then. It's from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, a paper strongly pro-New Deal." He pulled out his wallet, opened a neatly cut newspaper clipping, and read it with a special nasal voice: "Mr. Roosevelt is involved in the war today by surrendering a large portion of the United States Navy to a belligerent power. In exchange, we lease the British possessions. Once Hitler wins and thus acquires the islands, the leases will be What's the use? In the history of real estate transactions, this is arguably the worst transaction. If Mr. Roosevelt made such a mistake and got away with it, then we had better say goodbye to our freedom and resolve to live forever under the dictatorship Life." "That's a statement from a Roosevelt supporter," Anderson said, puffing on his cigar. "In half an hour we're going to dinner at the Army and Navy Club with some British and Navy admirals. We've got a list of the war supplies they need. It's going to take our armed forces to pieces. Nothing. We must brief the President by submarine telegram within five days. Not counting the fifty warships given this time, he has given them almost all of our seventy-five centimeters field, several squadrons of navy Airplanes, hundreds of thousands of rifles, millions of rounds of ammunition—” "He didn't give them for nothing, General," Benden said. "The Brits paid cash for these weapons." "Yes, fortunately the Neutrality Act forced him to do so, but it's a big lie to say that these supplies are surplus. Surplus! We don't have any surplus! You know that. Fifty destroyers. None of that. Approved by Congress. All of these things are missing from us. Now Congress is about to pass a conscription law. Our children are going to pick up broomsticks and go to military training! There will be a reckoning, you know. Once the British People collapsed, and these things fell into the hands of the Germans - this possibility should be estimated - settle accounts The day is not far away.All those who have intervened or even supported these transactions—” General Anderson turned his stern face to Victor Henry—“I warn you, they are likely to be hanged on the lamppost of Constitution Road. superior. " After a moment of silence, Admiral Benden folded his hands on his stomach and said gently: "Well, Pug, I told these gentlemen that I know you, and any information you provide is reliable. .We have a lot of responsibility on our shoulders.We have taken over a lot of hard work.Let's get to the bottom line.Why do you think the British will keep fighting after the French have collapsed like that?You can't speak without reason .” "Okay, General." First of all, says Victor Henry, the British made better use of the time between the two world wars than the French.He described their scientific progress, the prowess and disposition of the warships, the fighter control systems he had seen at Uxbridge, the figures of German and British aircraft losses, the morale of the pilots, the actions taken along the beaches where the enemy might invade. Preparations, radar stations, production of aircraft, etc.Fitzgerald listened with eyes closed, head thrown back, fingers flicking.Benden stared gravely at Pug and listened as he had done in a hundred battle planning meetings.Tran Anderson, who was shrouded in the smoke he sprayed out, also stared at Pug, but his eyes gradually turned into an expression of indifference and calculation of gains and losses. It took a great deal of effort for Pug to speak as calmly and clearly as he could.While he tried his best to provide accurate military information, on the other hand, the image of Pamela Tudsbury and his flight over Berlin kept flashing in his mind.He found himself restless, and could hardly maintain a dignified tone. "Wait a minute, Pug, this radio direction finder you're so obsessed with," interposed Benden, "isn't it just radar, isn't it? We have our own radar. You're still with me on the USS New York." Tested." "We don't have this type of radar yet, sir," Victor Henry said, detailing the cavity magnetron.These senior officers looked at me and I looked at you.He added: "And they've already started installing this thing on their night fighter jets." General Fitzgerald sat up straight. "Airborne radar? How to solve the weight problem?" "They've fixed it." "Then they have a new achievement." "Yes, General." Fitzgerald turned to look at Tran Anderson seriously.The latter put out his cigar and said to the admiral: "Well, my opinion is that what your subordinates say at least sounds reasonable. Since the order is given from above, we must carry it out. All we can do is a One item is strictly controlled. Regarding this point, to be honest, we want to do it. We also need to exchange some things like magnetrons as much as possible.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Henry. "Very well. Let's say the British really resisted? Let's say Hitler doesn't invade Britain? What's their future? What's their plan? What can they do against this man who dominates all of Europe? " "Well, I can tell you some official British intelligence," said Victor Henry. "I've heard it all the time. Hold off Germany in 1940. Overtake him in air power in 1941 with planes jointly produced by Britain and the United States. Put Germany in 1942 and 1943." The air force wiped out from the sky. If they don't surrender, they will blow their cities and factories to the ground. Attack in 1944 and win." "Use what? Ten or fifteen divisions against two hundred divisions?" "Actually, General, I think there's an easier way. Hang on until we're at war." "You're talking nonsense. Then what?" General Fitzgerald said with great calm: "Never mind. Tran, and then we'll wipe Germany out of the air with the bomber fleet we're building up. In a few months we'll be landing for surrender, and if anyone alive to crawl out of the ruins." Admiral Benden raised his eyebrows at Victor Henry and said, "What do you think, Pug?" Victor Henry hesitated to answer. "Are you dubious?" Fitzgerald asked kindly. "General, I just came back from bombing Germany. Twenty-four bombers went on this mission. Fifteen came back. Four of them missed their targets. Misguided navigation, malfunctioning equipment, German lures. Firepower. Wait. Two didn't bomb any targets at all. They got lost, flew around in the dark, then dropped their bombs into the sea, and came back on the BBC signal. In one combat mission, they lost three One-third of the attack power." "It's just getting started," Fitzgerald said with a smile. "Twenty-four bombers. Suppose a thousand went, and the load was much greater? As it is now, the British really hit the gas plant." "Yes, sir. They hit the gasworks." "How do you think the situation of the war will develop?" General Anderson suddenly said to Henry. "Sir, I think sooner or later one or two million troops must land in France to fight the Germans." Tran Anderson grunted unhappily and touched his left shoulder. "Landing in France, eh? I landed in France in 1918. I got a German bullet through my shoulder in Argonne. I don't know what the landing achieved. Do you know?" "Victor • Henry did not answer. "Okay." Tran Anderson stood up. "Let us go, gentlemen. Our English brethren are waiting for us." "I'll be right there," Benden said.After the army officer left, he patted Victor Henry on the shoulder. "Good job. These Brits are guarding the ground for us. We have to help them. But God, they are not ashamed to ask! Once their gold dollars are spent, it will be a big problem. Not in America The last bit of stock in the company is sold out and they can't even pay for the supplies on this list. What's next? I don't know. Our old man has to find a way to give them something. He's a smart guy, I reckon He figured it out. Oh, I remembered—" He reached into his breast pocket and took a letter.The envelope had only Victor Henry written on it in the address area, in his wife's tiny handwriting, and the letter was much thicker than usual. "Thank you, General." The admiral felt in his pocket. "No, there are others. Damn, I'm not going to find it. Oh, don't worry." It was an official letter from the White House.Pug put both letters in his pocket. "Well, Pug, you've put yourself in a special corner as an officer studying marksmanship. That cranky socialist in the White House thinks highly of you, and that's probably a good thing for you, too. Probably not. I have to go now. When I saw Rhoda she was fine, just a little sad." Benden sighed and stood up. "It's a hard time for them, these women. It's a good thing she didn't know about your bombing trip. Now that you're back, I'm kind of jealous of you. But I, I'm kind of cherishing my old life, Pug. I'm not quite ready to give it away unless I die in the line of duty. I suggest you do the same in future." Brink Vance took off his black-rimmed glasses, stepped from behind the desk, and put an arm around Pug. "Hey, I'd like to hear you tell me all about that pleasant trip sometime these days. What's the impression of the senior officers?" "very good." "Okay. Here's an urgent call from Personnel." He took a thin piece of paper from a clipboard hanging on the wall and handed it to Pug. Victor Henry was relieved of his temporary position in London and returned to Berlin and left around November 1, then flew to Washington as a priority to report to the Personnel Bureau and wait for a new one Appointment Vance said: "I'm leaving Berlin soon, are you happy?" "Delighted." "I think you will, too. The transport department told me they'd be the first to get tickets to Lisbon on the 14th." "Catch it quickly." "Okay." Vance continued with a knowing smile, "Let me tell you, maybe you and that pretty little Tudsbury girl can join me and Mrs. Maud's farewell banquet tomorrow night." Brin Ke invited Victor Henry to dine with them several times.Pug knew and liked Brinker's wife and their six children.Although he did not use a condemning tone.Still declined his invitation.Victor Henry knew how common such things were—"war and fornication, and nothing else"—but he never approved of Brinker's "shack trysts."Vance was inviting again now, and his smile reminded Pug that Pamela had been there when Vance called him at the apartment. "I'll tell you later, Brinker. I'll call you." "Great!" Vance grinned because he wasn't rejected. "Mrs. Maud will be delighted. My God, Pug, she's got a fabulous wine cellar." Victor Henry returned to sit on the bench in Grosswinner Square.The sun is still shining and the national flag is still flying.But it was just like any other day, just a sticky London night without any bright lights. The president's hastily penciled letter was written this time on a piece of yellow official paper.pug - Your uplifting reports have been a good tonic I've desperately needed.The war news is so bad that now the Republicans are putting forward Wendell Wilkie as their ideal candidate!When you return in November, you may be working under a new leader.Then you can break free from your chains and go to sea!Ha, what! Special thanks for alerting us to the report on their radar progress.The British are sending a scientific delegation in September, with all the scientific information on what Churchill called the "ghost war".We will definitely keep up with this!Churchill was interested in landing craft, which is somewhat exciting news, isn't it?In fact he was right, and I have asked the Chief of Naval Operations for a report.Get as much material as possible from them, the better. Frederick Pug pocketed the lively, hastily written letter like any other note, and opened his wife's letter.This is a strange letter. She wrote that she had just turned on the radio and heard an old "Three O'Clock in the Morning" record and burst into tears.She recalled their honeymoon, when they used to dance to it; recalled his long separation in 1918; recalled their happy days in Manila and Panama.She had ridden with Bam Kirby, who was running a business in New York, to New London to visit Byron—a two-day exhilarating trip through the Connecticut bushes of early autumn.Rhett Tully told her that Byron was lazy with his paperwork, but had done very well in simulators and submarine drills.She had asked Byron about the Jewish girl. Judging from the way he avoided the matter, I thought it might be over.A peculiar expression came into his face, but he said nothing.Isn't that reassuring! You need to know that Janice is pregnant, did you already know that?You must have heard it from them.These two kids waste no time, hey?Like father, like son, that's all I can say!But the thought of being a grandmother! ! !On the one hand, I am very happy, on the other hand, it seems that the end of the world is coming!It would have helped me a lot if you had been here when I started hearing the news.This news really made me dizzy.I don't know if I've recovered, but I'm trying to recover. Let me give you a word of advice.The sooner you can go home the better.I'm fine, but now I really need my husband's company.He went back to the apartment and called Pamela. "Ah, dear," she said, "I'm glad you called. I'll be gone in a quarter of an hour. I spoke to Uxbridge. They're very lenient. If I go back tonight, they'll forgive me." My everything. They're understaffed, and they're expecting a serious air strike. I must, I must, go back right away." "Of course you must go back. You're lucky you didn't get shot for desertion," said Pug, as lightly as possible. "I'm not a disciplinarian at Uxbridge," she laughs. "There's always a bit of an emotional connection to being an Air Force women's auxiliary airman, you know. But this time I was really emotional," he said. "I can't thank you enough." "You thanked me?" she said. "My God, do you know what a miserable time you've helped me through? In a week at most, I'll have another vacation. Can we see each other then?" "Pam, I'm leaving the day after tomorrow. I'll go back to Berlin for a month or six weeks, and then I'll go back to my country...Hello? Pamela?" "I'm still here. Are you leaving the day after tomorrow?" “大使馆里有给我的训令。”停顿了好久，其间他听得见她呼吸的声音，然后她说：“你不希望我不顾一切后果再开两天小差么？你愿不愿意？我想这样干。” “要打胜仗，这可不是办法，帕姆。” “不，这不是办法，上校。好吧。可是，这样的告别却是意料不到的。总之算是告别了。” “我们会在人生的道路上重逢的。” “啊，不成问题。不过我坚决相信台德还活着，而且正在归途中。下次我们见面的时候我很可能已经结了婚。那样会合适得多，彼此也好办得多。不管怎样，今天仍然是我一生中最幸福的一天，现在这已经是件不可改变的事了。” 维克多•亨利感到无法再往下谈。他所爱的这个姑娘的年轻声音里忧郁、温和的调子使他的喉咙发哽；而他又拙日笨舌，找不到合适的话向帕术拉谈他的感受。“我永生永世也忘不了的，帕米拉，”他笨拙可笑地说，清一清嗓子。“我是一分钟也忘不了的。” “你忘不了吗？太好了。我也永远忘不了。几个钟头抵得过整整的一生，是不是？我想是的。好了！再会，亨利上校，旅途平安。我希望你家里都好。” “再见，帕姆。我希望台德能够回来。”她的声音有点儿变。“有人找我来了。再见。” 维克多•亨利虽然很疲倦，却是神经紧张，没有一点睡意，他于是换上便服，溜达到弗莱德•费林住的吵闹而又闷热的公寓里。本周初附近爆炸了一颗炸弹，把全部窗玻璃都炸碎了，现在挡了棕黄色的胶合板代替。费林曾作过一次广播，描写他在一阵如雨的玻璃屑中的感受，获得极大的成功。 “塔茨伯利小姐呢？”费林问，递给维克多•亨利一杯用杜松子酒和一点紫红色的罐头果子汁调成的混合酒。 “打德国人去了。” “好极啦！”这位广播员象杂耍演员似的模拟英国口音说。 帕格坐在胶合板做的护墙板下面灰尘仆仆的长毛绒沙发的一头，看着人们喝酒跳舞，心里纳闷自己干吗要到这儿来。他看见一个高个子的年轻姑娘，穿一套剪裁入时的红衣服，又长又黑的头发梳到耳朵后边。她看了他一眼，又看了一眼。这姑娘带着一种既大胆又怀有希望的、把握不定的微笑走了过来。“喂，再来一杯混合酒么？看您的样子象个重要人物，又很寂寞。” “没有比我更不重要的人物了。我不想要混合酒，倒是希望有个人作伴。请过来一道坐会儿吧。” 这姑娘马上坐了下来，跷起了一双穿丝袜的漂亮的腿。她比帕米拉好看，看来不到二十。“我来猜猜看。您是陆军航空兵团的一个将军吧。他们一般比较年轻。” “我只是个海军上校，离家很远很远。” “我叫露西•索姆维尔。我妈妈要是知道我先找陌生人讲话，准会揍我一顿。不过在战争时期，一切都有所不同，对不对？” “我是维克多•亨利上校。” “维克多•亨利上校。听起来多象美国人。”她用一双毫无顾忌的眼睛看着他。“我喜欢美国人。” “我揣摩你遇见过不少吧。” “啊，一大堆。一个比一个强，”她笑了。“轰炸可怕极了，不过也让人兴奋，是不是？生活从没有这样让人兴奋。你根本不知道晚上是不是回得了家。这样的日子怪有意思的。我知道有的女孩子晚上出门干脆把化装品和睡衣都带在身边。亲爱的老妈妈连一句话也没法说！” 这姑娘调皮而诱人的目光告诉他说，这可能是股情欲的火焰等你去点燃。战时的伦敦就是这样的地方，他想：“除此都不时髦！”但是这姑娘跟梅德琳一般年纪，在他眼里算不得什么；而他又刚同帕米拉•塔茨伯利沉闷、冷淡而辛酸地分了手。他避开她荡漾的眼波，说了些枯燥无味的关于晚间新闻的话。过了一会儿，一个身材魁伟的陆军中尉走了过来，邀请露西•索姆维尔喝一杯，她跳起身来走了。不久帕格也就离开了。他一个人呆在屋里，听了会儿丘吉尔的演说，就上了床。他在熄灯前重读了一遍罗达那封含情脉脉、缠绵悱恻的信。字里行间似乎有某种阴暗而不愉快的东西。他猜想她可能同梅德琳有了龃龉，尽管信里并没有提到女儿的名字。他心想，老嘀咕这事也没有必要，反正一两个月内就要回家。He fell asleep. 罗达在去康涅狄格州的旅途上已经同柯比博士发生了暧昧关系。这就是帕格隐约察觉到的某种阴暗而不愉快的事。俗话说，受骗的丈夫总是蒙在鼓里的；尽管罗达在信里说话不够慎重，露了些破绽，但没有引起他的怀疑。 战争不但促成人与人之间新的亲密关系，也把旧的关系引向破裂。在这个忠实的典型——他海军中的朋友这样看他——接到他妻子的信的那一天，他和帕米拉•塔茨伯利之间并没有什么越轨行动，主要是那位姑娘已下了决心不鼓励他。而罗达从新伦敦回来的旅途中却失足了。这是事先没有想到和预料到的。如果硬要约她幽会，她准会畏缩、拒绝。她只是同柯比停下来喝茶。从那个小客栈的后窗望出去是一个美丽的池塘，里面有几只天鹅冒着蒙蒙细雨在粉红色的荷花丛中游来游去。他们单独坐在这个安静、舒适的地方，只有个老妇人侍候他们。他们对这次访问拜伦很满意，乡村的景色也很美。他们原打算停留一个小时，然后开车去纽约。他们谈到第一次在柏林郊外的午餐，谈到在滕珀尔霍夫机场的离别，谈到在瓦尔多夫旅馆重逢时彼此的欢乐。时间过得很快，他们谈话的口气也越来越亲密。后来巴穆•柯比说：“这个地方可真舒适极了！可惜我们不能住下。” 罗达•亨利小声儿说，连她自己都很难相信这几个字是从她嘴里吐出来的：“也许能。” 也许能！这么三个字就改变了一个人的生活和品格。那个老妇人没有问什么，给他们安排了一间卧房。 在纽约，罗达和柯比在下午灿烂的阳光中听到了帕格深夜听到的丘吉尔的广播演说。罗达替梅德琳和她自己挑选的公寓很不错。房子朝南，屋外是一片低矮的褐色石头。阳光整天穿过白布帘的窗户照射到一间宽敞的起居室里。室里的陈设和装饰一律用白、桃红和苹果绿三色。装在绿像框里的维克多•亨利和男孩们的照片放在一架白色钢琴上。来访的客人对这地方高雅欢乐的气氛都有好评。 “他点起一把火，火势越烧越猛，直到把纳粹暴政的最后残余从欧洲扫光……”柯比懒懒地坐在一把圈椅里吸烟斗，瞪眼瞅着收音机。 “华丽的辞藻，这个老家伙。” “你认为他们真能抵挡住德国人么，巴穆？” “帕格怎么说？” “他刚到的时候来过一封悲观的信，以后就没有再来信。” “真怪。他在那里有一阵子啦。” “嗯，我对自己说，他如果有什么不测，我会听说的。我真担心。” "certainly." 丘吉尔的演讲结束了。她看见他在瞧他毛茸茸的手腕上的表。“你的飞机什么时候起飞？” “啊，还有一两个钟头。”他关了收音机，慢慢踱到窗前，眺望窗外。“景色不错。无线电城、帝国摩天大楼。可惜那座公寓楼把河上的景色遮住了。” “我知道此刻你想要的是什么？”她说。 "what?" “喝点茶。到喝茶的时候啦。”她看见对方突然粗犷地咧嘴一笑，就半含羞、半涎着脸微笑着，急煎煎地加了一句，“我的意思是真的喝茶，巴穆•柯比先生。” “茶是我心爱的饮料。至少最近是这样。” “别讨人厌啦，你！嗯，我去煮点茶好吗？” “当然好。我正想喝茶。” “我想我应该发誓戒茶才对，因为我最先是喝茶堕落的。”她诱人地扭动腰肢朝厨房走去。“如果我能用喝醉酒来解释就好了，可是我当时却跟一个牧师的老婆一样清醒。” 他到厨房看她准备茶。巴穆•柯比喜欢在一旁看她走动，他停留在她身上的目光使罗达感到自己又年轻起来。他们坐在阳光下的一张矮桌边，她彬彬有礼地把茶倒好，把涂上黄油的面包递给他。再找不到更平静、更庄重的一幅图画了。 “差不多同在麦琪逊太太的客店里喝的茶一样好，”柯比说。 "almost." “别提啦！你在丹佛要呆多久呢？” “只过一夜。随后就得回华盛顿。我们的委员会准备会见几个英国科学家。从样本上看，他们搞出了些了不起的东西。我肯定他们会叫德国人大吃一惊的。” “真的！那么你下一步是到华盛顿了。” “对。你也找个理由去趟华盛顿么？” “啊，亲爱的，巴穆，你难道不知道我认识那里的每一个人？简直是每一个人。我不认识的人，帕格也认识。” 他苦闷地停顿一下后说：“这件事干得不令人满意，对不对？我不认为自己是个破坏家庭的人。特别是对在国外服务的军人的家属。” “哎，亲爱的，我也不认为自己是个犯了罪的女人。从那天以后，这两个星期天我都上教堂了。我并不感到有罪，反倒感到很新奇，我就告诉你这点。”她又给他倒了点茶。“这一定是战争的关系，巴穆。我也说不好。自从希特勒踏遍了欧洲、把伦敦炸成平地以后，一切旧的观念似乎都变得无尽轻重了，这我也说不好。我的意思是说，比起眼前真实的东西来——比如在麦琪逊太太客店后边的天鹅——那些可爱的粉红色荷花、细雨、那只灰猫——茶、那些好吃的面饼——还有你和我。这些都是我能够享受到的。” “我还没告诉你我干嘛要去丹佛。” "No." “有一个人要买我的房子。准备出一大笔钱。我告诉过你关于我房子的事。” “对，听说漂亮极了。你真的准备把它卖掉吗？” “我常常谈这件事。我一直在考虑。最后作出这样的决定。我的大部分朋友都在丹佛。那后房子非常适于自己住、招待客人和接待来探亲的儿女和孙儿孙女。我要是有妻子，就决不愿意卖掉它。”他停顿一下，睁大了一双严肃的棕色大眼看着她，眼神里流露出腼腆和担心的神气。这种眼光本身就是求婚的表示。“你是怎样想的，罗达？” “啊，巴穆！啊，多幸福的日子，”罗达的双眼充满了快乐。她并不十分感到吃惊，可是她所得到的安慰是难以形容的。这一来算是解了她心里的一个疙瘩。这到底跟基普•托莱佛干的蠢事不同，这不是一次失去理智的失足，而是一次奔腾的激情。既是奔腾的激情，情况就不一样了。 他说：“对你来说，这实在不应该是新闻。如果我当时不是那样感受，我们是不会在麦琪逊太太那儿住下的。” “真的！啊，我的主。你那样看待我，我是又骄傲又幸福。我当然是那样。不过——巴穆！”她几乎是快活地朝钢琴上的照片挥了挥手。 “我有些朋友也是在五十多岁重新结婚的，罗达。有的在离了婚以后，有的现在过着非常美满的幸福生活。” 罗达叹了口气，用手指擦擦眼睛，朝他笑了笑。“你是不是要使我成为一个贞洁女人？你那样做的确是好意，不过没有必要。”巴穆•柯比真挚地俯身过去，闭紧了他肌肉松弛的大嘴。 “帕格•亨利是个令人敬佩的人。并不是因为你是个不正经的女人才发生那件事的。在我们见面之前你们的婚姻中就有了裂缝。那是不能不有的。” 罗达用颤抖得很厉害的声音说：“帕格在我认识他之前是海军里个橄榄球后卫。我看过他参加的两次陆军对海军的比赛。我有个男朋友爱看这类比赛——听我讲，巴穆，也许我会镇定下来。他是个很有冲劲、令人激动的运动员，这个满场跑的结实小伙子。后来，天呀，在华盛顿他突然出现在我面前。就是帕格•亨利本人，就是报刊上常有他照片的这个人。战争在进行。他穿上嵌金线的蓝军服看起来雄赳赳的。我一定要说！呵，天哪，他用了在足球场上的那股劲儿来追求我。那些日子他显得非常可笑。你要知道，帕格在愿意的时候，他具有一种逗笑的才能。嗯，我交的男朋友都是华盛顿的老相识，都进的同样学校，都是用同一个模子制造出来的，你知道。帕格却与众不同。他现在也是这样。举一个例子，他是个非常虔诚的基督徒。你可以打赌，光是这一点就不好相处！我的意思是说，从一开始情况就很复杂。我的意思是说，这丝毫不影响他谈恋爱，不知我说清楚了没有，可是——嗯，帕格是个不同凡响的人。我永远会这样说。我一定叫帕格腻烦了。我知道他爱我，可是——问题是他太海军气了！哎，巴穆，这个人让我在婚礼宴会上站了半个小时，而他却开车送他的指挥官去赶回诺福克的火车！这就是维克多•亨利。可是二十五年——天呀，现在我是第一次突然觉得自己非常、非常地不幸。” 罗达用手帕掩着脸哭起来，两肩不住地抖动。他走过来坐在她身边。等她平静下来以后，她看着他说：“你到丹佛去吧，不过你得问一下自己这个问题。我做了对不起帕格的事。难道你就不想到，有朝一日，由于意想不到的机缘我嫁了你以后，我会不会同样也做对不起你的事呢？你自然会想到的。干嘛不呢？” “因为我相信你很久以来就不爱你丈夫了。你对他有感情，可我认为你爱上了我。”他站起来。“我还是要去赴丹佛的约会，罗达。不过我不准备卖那所房子了。” “呵，卖掉了吧！对我来说，你还是照样卖掉那所房子好，巴穆。我不过认为你有一天会后悔的。” “再见，罗达。我会从华盛顿给你来电话的。可惜这次我没见着梅德琳。代我向她致意。”说着，他看了钢琴上的照片一眼。“我想你的孩子们会喜欢我的。甚至拜伦那个怪孩子。” “他们怎么会不喜欢你呢？问题不在这里。”她送他到门口。他象一个出门旅行的丈夫一样吻了她。