Chapter 42 Chapter Forty-Two

The Senate passed the Lend-Lease Act by a vote of 60 to 31.Few Americans are watching this debate more eagerly than Pug Henry.He was sitting in the Senate gallery, one hand half clasped to his ear because of the poor sound transmission in the hall.This was the first time he knew how the government of his country worked, and he was very interested.He grew to admire Franklin D. Roosevelt's ability to drive the always-stopping carriage.After weeks of debate, the vote itself was smooth sailing.The final thrill was in defeating some scheming amendments.The Senate passed Lend-Lease by a vote of two to one, with little national or press attention.The debate itself had bored them to indifference to the matter.

Yet Pug Henry saw the vote as a pivotal world event since Hitler's invasion of Poland.Here, with the "yes" of sixty aging senators, the tide may have begun to turn.The president finally has the means to put America in a wartime regime long before the people are ready to fight.New factories must now rise up to manufacture Lend-Lease aircraft and artillery.When the time comes, the US military will be armed - and so far this has only remained on paper. That same day, he was ordered to fly to Norfolk Naval Station to report to Vice Admiral Ernest King (a stern officer) whom he had never met.His flagship was the USS Texas.

The "USS Texas" was the first warship Pug had reported to in his life.It was shortly after the end of the First World War, on this same wet and cold March day, in the same naval port, maybe the same wharf.Today, the "Texas" lacks a chimney, and the mast is no longer basket-shaped, but has been changed to a tripod shape, which is quite different from the old coal-burning era.Pug also noticed that the painted areas and metal parts of the main deck were as clean as a tomb.The sentries on the pontoon and the sailors working around the old turrets were all starched like surgeons.Outside the four-star gate leading to the command room, when a sailor with sparkling eyes raised his gun to salute, it was as quick and neat as a clock striking the clock.

Kim sat behind a desk, his blue sleeves adorned with stiff gold bands up to the elbows.The only ornament in the modest office was a framed photograph of Admiral Mayo hanging on the bulkhead.Kim had a thin, deeply sunken red face with high cheekbones, a narrow shiny forehead, and a pointed nose.Behind him hangs a map of the Atlantic route, in bold black letters in one corner: Atlantic Fleet - Commander in Chief.He motioned for Victor Henry to sit down, tilted his chin back, and looked him over. ① Mayo (1856-1937), commander in chief of the US Navy during World War I. "Yesterday I received a call from the Chief of Naval Operations," he said in a hoarse voice, "that a Colonel Victor Henry from the Operations Planning Department was sent directly from the President of the United States to see me." Henry nodded and went to see me. Like he was an ensign.Silence, only the hum of the ventilator. "Okay, tell me what you want to do."

The colonel talked to Lieutenant General King about Franklin Roosevelt's intentions.The vice admiral calmly smoked the cigarette in the mouthpiece, staring at Henry.Pug then described his plan to carry out the president's intentions.He talked for six or seven minutes.Kim's long weather-beaten face remained calm and slightly skeptical. "So, Colonel, are you going to single-handedly bring the United States of America into this war?" Ernest King finally said sarcastically. "Oh, this is a good way for the unknown to live forever!" "Lieutenant General, the President's judgment is that this exercise can be completed without incident."

"You say so. But what if he's wrong? What if a German submarine fires a torpedo at you?" "Sir, if you fire at us, I'd suggest firing back. That wouldn't start a war, unless Hitler wanted to." Ernest King nodded bitterly. "Well, we're already in it anyway. It doesn't matter when or how the whistle blows. The Japanese wait for the right time for them and the Germans to attack us. That's probably the worst time for us." .I agree with Mr. Roosevelt: it probably won't happen just yet. But have you thought about the cruisers? Hey, have you? Thought about the Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau? They have sunk more than 100,000 tons in the past month."

"Yes, sir. If they're around, I hope the Catalina patrol bombers will warn us so we can get out of the way." "That's a big ocean," Lt. Gen. Kim said. "Aerial patrols probably won't see them." "Then, Lieutenant General, the cruiser may not be able to spot us." Pausing again, Kim looked Victor Henry up and down as if he were a dog he wanted to buy, then picked up the phone. "Pick me up Rear Admiral Bristol... Henry, don't you have any papers with you?" "No, sir." "Okay. From now on, you don't say a word about the President again."

"Yes, yes, sir." "Hey, General, I'm sending someone to your office right now..." King glanced at a piece of paper on his desk. "He's Colonel Victor Henry, a special observer in the Operations Planning Division. Colonel Henry is going to Visit the 'Disran No. 8', arrange surprise exercises, inspections, dispatch work, and try the degree of the fleet's actual combat readiness. Treat him as my deputy chief of staff, and give him the corresponding authority...Definitely execute it. Within an hour He'll come to your office in no time. Thank you."

Kim hung up the phone.His bony hands folded on his flat stomach stared at Victor Henry.He said in a formal, deep tone: "Colonel, I order you to form an anti-submarine screen force on the 'Disran 8', and immediately go to sea to conduct field drills. This includes placing the screen force on your Around any cooperating transports that may be encountered. Naturally, refrain from provoking any enemy ships that spot you. I order you to maintain the utmost secrecy and the minimum written records. Therefore, I will only give you verbal orders. You must do the same." "Understood, General."

A cold smile made one of Ernest King's mouth move.Then he resumed his usual tone. "It's all nonsense, but that's how the story should be made up. If there's an accident, they'll all be hanged. Well, that's all." Even in the North Atlantic in March, even on a destroyer, even on such a strange and risky job, it was refreshing to be back at sea.All day Pug paced up and down the bridge of the Plunkett.He is a happy man, and he sleeps in the cabin with a sailing map next to him. On clear nights, no matter how cold the wind was or how rough the sea was, he would spend hours alone on the flyover after dinner.The vast, dark ocean, the constant flow of pure air, and the stars above his head always made him feel that the Holy Spirit mentioned in the Bible was hovering on the sea.Over the years, the religious awe inspired by the night view at sea has kept Colonel Henry in faith in God even more than the Bible he had learned as a child.He never talked about it to anyone—not even to the pastors among his old friends; He wasn't sure either.During this voyage, Victor Henry believed that the Almighty, as always, always existed in the dark, star-studded universe.Its presence is real, welcome, and just disturbingly unpredictable.

Officially, Pug was an observer of this "exercise", and he acted strictly in this capacity.The command work is entirely in the responsibility of the commander of the destroyer screen force.He only intervened once.The day after rendezvous off Newfoundland, a long line of merchant ships lined up across the horizon encountered a snowstorm.The lookout post that came down from the sentry post was covered with icicles and could hardly move.The transport ships a mile apart could not see each other under the toss of the black waves.On the zigzag course, there were several minor collisions and near collisions. After Pug received the report, he took Commander Baldwin of the screen force and the British liaison officer to his cabin. "I'm calculating," he said, pointing to the enroute map, struggling to settle in the swivel chair. "If we go in a straight line, we can shorten the voyage by half a day. Of course, there may be German submarines in the ocean, but there may not be any. If they intend to break through the screen force composed of fifteen American destroyers, then there are seventy-one Zigzags aren't going to help much with a giant crawling target. Let's just head straight to Becker's Point, hand over this hot potato as fast as we can, and get out of here." Commander Baldwin wiped the snow from his red eyebrows under his frozen hood, grinned and said, "I agree, Colonel." The British signal officer, smoking his pipe upside down, was a serene little man who had just arrived from the snow-swept bridge.Pug said to him, "Sign to you commodores: stop the zig zag." "Yes, yes, sir." The Englishman squeezed his pipe-drinking mouth a little bit, and pretended to be happy. Victor Henry and Commander Baldwin ate breakfast on trays each day in the stateroom, studying their course of action in the event of an attack by the Germans.The ships participating in the screen had a sloppy battle drill every morning that made Pug angry, and he wanted to take over and give the troops a good run, but the most important thing at the moment was to keep the operation smooth, so what did he do? Didn't do either.The first Lend-Lease convoy was sailing straight east through the waves undisturbed.Half the voyage of the fleet was under the shadow of bad weather.On a clear night with white clouds and a bright moon, President Victor Henry woke up in his clothes, drinking coffee by the gallon, smoking sore throat.Sometimes just sit in the captain's chair and take a nap.Whether the German U-boats saw the convoy but held back because of the American destroyers screened ahead, or whether the convoy passed undetected, Victor Henry would never know.In short, without any risk, they reached Cape Baker, a crossing point of latitude and longitude on a vast, empty sea. A feeble yellow sun was rising.Under a pearly sky on the desolate black sea of ​​broken ice, the fleet began to form a ten-mile square, waiting for the British.Victor Henry stood on the flyover and stared eastward, hoping that the navigator on the "Plunkert" would know his trade.He had never been so happy since his return from Berlin.He read a good deal of the musty "Complete Works of Shakespeare" which he carried with him when he went to sea, made up a box full of official documents, and slept soundly, adapting to the rocking of the destroyer as before.Three hours later, the first ship to arrive appeared on the horizon, an old American warship with four funnels in the due east.As all kinds of destroyers, frigates, and Corvette-style light cruisers sent by the British escort followed, the leading warship flashed yellow lights.A signalman hurried up the overpass and handed over a note scrawled in pencil: "Thanks Americans for the empty cupboards." Pug murmured, "Call him back: Have a good meal, and there's a sign behind it." Above: Mama Hubbard.①” ①In British fairy tales, sympathize with the sick and kind old woman.It first appeared in the poems of the English poet Spencer in the sixteenth century. "Yes, yes, sir," said the grinning sailor, and thumped down the ladder. "As an observer," Pug yelled from the bridge to Admiral Baldwin on the bridge below, "I'd love to see how quickly your signal group hangs: 'Course turn, thirty-two an hour. nautical mile' signal flag." When the "Plunker" docked at the Norfolk Naval Harbor, Victor • Henry went straight to the command room on the "Texas".Lieutenant Admiral King listened to his report with a thin, sandy, pharaonic face, only expressing emotion when Pug mentioned the destroyer's slack movements.At this moment, the pharaonic face was slightly more unpleasant. "I understand that the level of combat readiness in the fleet is very low, and there are plans to correct it. But, Colonel, on what basis did the President select you for this mission?" "Sir, when I was a naval attaché in Germany, he happened to send me on a couple of highly classified missions. I expect this one to fall into that category." "Are you still reporting to him when you go back?" "Yes, sir." At this moment, the lieutenant general walked to a map of the world—then In place of the photograph of Admiral Mayo, the map was newly hung on the bulkhead opposite the desk—Victor Henry stood up immediately. "I think you heard the news when you were at sea? Did you know that the Germans launched a blitz against Yugoslavia and occupied it in a week? Greece also surrendered..." The lieutenant general ran his thin finger along the Adriatic The subsea and Mediterranean coasts were recently drawn with a line angrily drawn in red ink. "...Rommel this boy drove the British back to Egypt, and is still gathering troops to attack the Suez Canal. There is a huge British army besieged in Greece, and it is lucky to be able to withdraw like Dunkirk. The Arabs have risen to drive the British out of the Middle East, the Iraqis have ordered them to withdraw and the Germans to come in. Do you know all this?" "Yes, sir, we've heard most of it. It's been a rough couple of weeks." "That depends where you stand. It's been a pretty good few weeks for the Germans. In a month or so, they've turned the balance of power around the world. On reflection, I think the war is pretty much over." .Few people here realize this.Once the Germans capture the canals, take control of the Middle East, and blockade the Mediterranean, the shipping lines of the British Empire are cut off. The game is lost. Between Hitler and the Japs, the whole There is no militarily tenable power in Asia anymore. India and China are going to fall to them." The lieutenant general ran his thin finger across the vast land between Europe and Asia. "From Antwerp to Tokyo, from the Arctic Circle to the Equator, is firmly under the rule of the dictator. Did you ever hear that the Soviet Union has made a non-aggression pact with the Japs?" "No, sir. I missed that." "Well, they signed a treaty... well, it was a fortnight ago... Both sides agreed to leave the other alone for the time being. The papers here didn't pay much attention to it. Yet this is dire news.In this way, Japan's rear will be preserved..." He pointed to Siberia again. "This will free up their hands to pick up these big gems. The veiny hand moved swiftly south again, sweeping across Indochina, the East Indies, Malaya, and the Philippine Islands. The hand paused, and then a stiff finger slid to the Hawaiian Islands. General Jin shifted his gaze from the map to Victor Henry with a worried face, and then walked back to his desk. "Nowadays it is natural for the President to make a political judgment. He is a brilliant statesman and a great Navy president. His judgment may be correct, that is, politically, as far as he can go Just expanding our patrol area. Maybe politically, he has to draw a line between 'patrol' and 'escort'. But we're patrolling while broadcasting the positions of German submarines and aircraft attacking merchant ships, which is not the same as escorting Same belligerent act, same belligerent nature, just weak and ineffective. Looks like the UK doesn't have enough ships to keep the Mediterranean open and cut off the Rommel boy's supply lines. If we take over the escort duties , they may still have the possibility of fighting. The President did not ask for my opinion. You seem to be around him. Maybe you will have the opportunity to convey my views." Ernest King sat there with his hands in his hands Crossed on the desk, looked at the Colonel silently for a minute. "Maybe it just so happens that that will be the greatest contribution you'll make to American security in your lifetime." "Henry! Hi, Henry!" Byron groaned, straightened up like a stretching cat, and opened one eye.Captain Caruso and the other officers on the "S-45" are already used to seeing Second Lieutenant Henry's posture of waking up from a dream.There was no way to wake him up until he was upright.Sometimes I have to shake his limp body violently. "Oh?" "Your father is here." "What?" Byron rolled his eyes and straightened up on one elbow.He is now sleeping in the middle bunk of three bunks. "Captain, are you teasing me. My father?" "He's in the wardroom. Come talk to us?" Byron, in his underwear, unshaven, disheveled, blinking, staggered to the door of the small officer's room. "God, you're really here!" "Didn't your commander tell you that I'm coming!" Victor Henry, wearing a neat blue military uniform, frowned at his son while drinking coffee. "The people in this boat will tell any lie to get me off my bunk. They're demons." "Why are you lying in bed at noon?" "I was on mid-shift. Excuse me for coming out dressed like this, sir. I'll be right in." Byron reappeared shortly afterwards, dressed in a freshly laundered khaki uniform, fully groomed, his face Also shaved.Only Victor Henry was there this time. "Well, Pa, it's good to see you." "Brani, the middle shift is not undergoing any major surgery, so there is no need to lie down on the bed and rest." "Sir, I've been on duty two nights in a row." He poured a cup of coffee for his father and himself. "Oh, that's unexpected. Mom said you were floating somewhere in the ocean. Dad, did you leave the battle plan?" "No. It's a temporary assignment. Now I'm going back to my post. I was visiting the USS Texas just now. I saw the 'S-45' in the Naval Register, so I thought I'd stop by. Look." Victor Henry studied his son's thin face. "How is it? Is everything okay?" "Oh, that's great. All good men on board. The captain croaks. So does the mate. I'd love you to meet him, Captain Esther. He's a witness at my marriage. ' Byron grinned in that half-moody, half-funny smile that would always endear Pug Henry and most of the others. "I'm glad to see you. I'm so lonely." "How is your wife? Has she left for home?" Byron cast a dreamy glance at his father, suggesting that his resentment towards Natalie was still alive.But he was in a good mood at the moment, and he replied kindly, "I don't know. We just came back from the drill this morning. The administrator just went to pick up the mail." Pug put the glass down. "By the way, will your boat call in port on the twenty-sixth?" "I can ask. What for?" "It's nothing serious. It's just that if you stay in the port, if you can ask for leave to spend the night on shore, the White House invites you to a banquet." Byron's sunken eyes widened. "Dad, are you kidding me?" "Your mother and Madeleine are going too. I don't think Warren will be able to fly back from Pearl Harbor. If you're here, you might as well go together—sometimes you can tell your children." "Dad, what is our status?" Victor Henry shrugged. "Oh, it's just a radish. Your mother doesn't know about it yet." "Don't know yet! Go to the White House dinner party! Mom will be crazy with joy." Captain Esther carried a basket of mail and looked towards the officer's room. "Brani, Carson has a bunch of letters from you over there on the boardwalk." "Hey, that's not bad. Dad, this is my first officer, Captain Qatar • Este. I'll be right back." Byron disappeared in a flash. Esther sat down at the long narrow table in the wardroom, opened the envelopes with an Indian paper knife, and said, "Excuse me, sir, urgent." "Go ahead and open it." When Esther opened the letter, Victor Henry looked carefully at the blond-haired officer.One can sometimes guess what kind of officer a young man is from the way he handles papers or a book.Esther goes through the stack of letters quickly, writing something here, noting there.It seems that he is very good.He pushed the basket aside and poured out a cup of coffee, which he took himself after Henry raised a hand in decline. "Captain, were you a witness at Braney's marriage?" "Yes, sir. She's a wonderful girl." "How's Braney doing?" Esther's happy smile as she reminisces is gone.His gaping mouth was immediately shut tightly. "Is it his work?" "Yes, please tell me the truth." "Oh, we all like him. There's something about Blaney, I think you know that. But as far as submarines... don't think he can't do it. He can do it, but He doesn't think it's worth it. Braney's performance is barely qualified." Victor Henry was not surprised, but these words still hurt him. "From the current performance, we can see the signs of the future." "He's far behind on the officer roster. Sir, he knows a thing or two about boats. He knows everything about the machinery, the compressed air system, the battery pack. He's on the diving post. His grades are also good. He is very good at adjusting the hull and keeping it at the depth required by the captain. But it is his turn to write reports on time, and even write the logbook. Training books—these are the main duties of an officer . . . forget about it." Esther looked directly at Byron's father. "The captain sometimes talks about trying to get him ashore," said Victor Henry despondently. "Is it that bad?" "He's kind of an idiot in some ways." "What, idiot?" "Well, let's say last week, an inspector suddenly came on board. We launched this fake torpedo and then surfaced to recover it. We haven't practiced this recovery maneuver in a long time. The sea was rough that day. Big, and raining, and freezing cold. The torpedo squad was trying to get it back. The torpedo floated up and down, thumping back and forth against the hull. We were all shaking, and the sailors were strapped to lifelines, Floating around it in the water. They fiddled with it for about an hour and didn't catch the dummy torpedo. I figured someone was going to be drowned or crushed. The inspector got tired and went down The captain had a fit of temper. Everyone on the deck was drenched from the rain, freezing as hell, and all in disarray. You know, the dummy warhead was empty, and the torpedo floated straight up. Exit. Blaney is the officer in charge of that squad. Suddenly he grabs the hook and sticks it on his lifeline. My God, he jumped on that fake torpedo! What a coincidence of his timing Looks easy. He clings on. The cold waves hit him, straddling that yellow steel dummy warhead, and it's like he's riding a fucking horse. He Hooked up, but he got knocked down by the waves himself. Well, we hauled him up, half dead, and then torpedoed up again. The captain gave him a lot of medicinal brandy. He slept ten Eight hours, good again." Victor Henry coughed and said, "He's just trying his luck." "Sir, I'd rather have him in whichever boat I command, but I reckon it'll take two pairs of thick leather shoes--keep kicking his ass." "Let me buy you a pair of big leather boots then, Captain," said Pug. "She's pregnant!" Byron burst into the small officer's room.He stopped by grabbing the door frame. "Dad, Natalie's pregnant." He waved the torn letter. "How? Hey, 'ma'am, what do you say? Man, I can't tell you how I feel." "That's fast!" Esther said. "You'd better try to get that bitch of yours back home, eh? Good to see you, Colonel. Excuse me." The mate slipped out behind the desk with his mail basket. "Is there any news about her leaving home?" Victor Henry asked. "She said that Leslie Sloter was going after the consulate this time, and that she and Jastrow should be on their way by now—well, maybe on their way! She'd better move, or else , Dad, I'll pick her up as a deserter. My baby will have to be born on American soil." "This is big news, Braney, big news," Victor Henry stood up, putting his hands on his son's shoulders. "I have to catch a plane. You go and find out about the twenty-sixth, will you? Then tell me." "What? Oh, yes," said Byron, resting his chin on his fists, sitting there reading a densely written airmail letter, his face glowing with happiness. "The banquet. Yes, I'll let you know by phone or something." "I'm sure you'll have a lot of paperwork to do after this drill. Go ahead, boy." "Oh, of course," said Byron. "Goodbye, Dad." "Byron, I am delighted to hear from your wife." Byron gave him that dreamy glance again, and said "Thank you" in such a friendly tone. Rhoda was very disturbed.Bam Kirby had returned from England in April, and Pug was still at sea.The cherry blossoms bloomed very early this year. They drove to the wilds of Virginia and North Carolina for four days like a honeymoon, and the ground was full of fragrant flowers.Before returning to Washington, Rhoda agreed with absolute certainty to divorce her husband and marry Kirby. To Rhoda, in the bedroom of a roadside inn, while walking among the peach and plum blossoms in the southern country, such a decision seemed simple, clear and natural.But then Kirby went to Denver with great enthusiasm to decorate the old big house for their new life, leaving her alone in the home full of Henry's photos and mementos, and the picture she imagined did not change. As simple as that, part of its brilliance began to fade. Rhoda's inexperience leads her astray.Even if a love that has been accumulated for twenty-five years has changed slightly, generally speaking, it is not appropriate to write it off all at once.The romance of companionship, the same passion, and even the same money is not easily won back.Calculating sluts often choose this way.Rhoda's distress was that she thought she was still a good woman, but unfortunately she had another big love affair outside of her husband, which violated all her moral principles.Once in Germany, when her husband had been away from home for a long time—she was at that age when many men and women stumbled—she stumbled, and it got deeper and deeper.The eagerness to maintain a good opinion of herself further threw her into complete disarray. She still liked—maybe loved—and was in awe of Pug, but his career was increasingly disappointing her.For a while, because of his proximity to President Roosevelt, she had hoped that something would happen to him, but that never came true either.Some of her friends were showing off their husbands' new command posts: battleships, destroyer columns and cruisers.The rivalry between Digg Brown, Paul Hanson and Harry Wallendorf was also going on among their wives.Rhoda Henry was becoming the wife of a man who for more than twenty years had been running alongside some of the frontrunners and was now at the end of the day.Pug's official luck is obviously not good.This was the most painful thing for Rhoda.She had always hoped that he would at least be Deputy Chief of Naval Operations someday.In the end she chose him instead of marrying the men who went on to become bank chairmen, steel company executives, or army generals (they didn't necessarily propose to her, but if she did date them, take Kiss, she thought it was possible to marry them and gave it up for Pug's sake).Now it seems that he may not even be a rear admiral!With each month he worked in that small room in the Admiralty, that limited purpose seemed to fade away, while his competitors in command at sea grew older.Rhoda Henry used these thoughts to make up his mind to tell Pug that she was in love with another man.She did not greet the moment with joy, however.She rocks from side to side, ready to be pushed to either side at any moment. She wasn't home when Pug returned from an escort trip.He didn't call from Norfolk because he knew she liked to sleep in.When he flew back to Washington, he found the house empty: the cook was gone, Rhoda was out, the mail was piled up on his desk, and there was no coffee.He couldn't blame anyone, but the home he returned was deserted. In the Office of the Operations Planning Division, he bumped into Pamela Tudsbury by chance.She did not return to England with Burner-Walker.There are not many secretaries who have been screened for top-secret work, so the British procurement team temporarily recruited her.Pamela is brisk and lively, and she looks very fresh in that yellow-green cloth jacket, without the slightest taste of military uniform.Pamela greeted him with a warmth he had not found at home.He invited her to lunch in the Navy Automat, and in a quarter of an hour he ate sandwiches, pies, and coffee in a hurry.Pamela spoke of how unpleasant it was for Burner-Walker to keep her. "I would like to stay in China during this period," said the eyes with moist eyes. "I don't really think that Britain is finished, as some people do; yet in the dead of night, images of enduring German soldiers and changing signboards in the streets do flash through your mind. A horribly real nightmare." She shook her head and smiled. "Naturally, it's just the darkest hour before dawn. You look fine, poor wretch. The life at sea is obviously more suitable for you. You seem ten years younger. I hope you stay young like this, or come back again." to the sea." "Well, I try to walk and play tennis, too, but that's not the same as being at sea." "Of course not." He asked if he had any news from Tad Garrard again, but there was nothing.They said goodbye casually and parted.Victor Henry spent the rest of the day sorting out the mountains of papers, feeling much more refreshed. At home, Rhoda wore a bright red dress, iced his drink, and cheese and crackers were waiting for him.Her manner and speech made him feel a little strange.She babbled about the house.She was so eager to talk, and so eloquent, that at first he never got a chance to tell her about the White House treat.Just after noon that day, she ran out with the real estate agent as soon as she saw the note Pug had left her on the dresser.She went to three schools.All her repressed feelings of guilt were focused on the house problem, as if her guilt could be covered up by convincing Pug that she was taking pains to find a house.This is actually unreasonable.She was about to break the news to him.She acted on a neurotic instinct.The short note Pug scrawled immediately gave the signal: "He's back and needs to be locked up." Pug was certainly not interested in the blah blah blah about the shortcomings of a house he had never seen, but he listened anyway.Then Rhoda went back to the painful subject—the recent promotion: that douchebag, lecherous, drunk Chippo Pennington got the Helena; and, did Pug know that Limpier • Foley was in command of the last destroyer squadron at Pearl Harbor?Pug broke in while Rhoda was talking—it was meat at the dinner table—and told her about the President's invitation.Her mouth fell open in amazement. "Pug! Really?" How would they feel when M. Fry heard about it. Her acting was so clumsy.他正在看到她最坏的方面——比她最坏的表现还要坏，因为她的品德从来还没这么低下过，尽管她仍然长得很漂亮，她的肌肤也还象以前那样细嫩光滑。帕格发现他自己正在冷眼观察他的妻子，就象在判断职业上的事物似的。很少年过四十的妻子经得起这么仔细观察。 那晚上，维克多•亨利从他所熟悉的迹象看出，罗达暂时还不欢迎他进她的寝室。他有些莫名其妙，但是他老早就认为罗达有权利不时地在生理上或精神上发作这么一下，尽管对于在海上漂荡了六个星期的帕格，这是太难堪了。他好久都没睡着。他不断地思考着在首都所发现的那种对战争漠不关心、得乐且乐的情绪，想到《租借法案》通过之后，美国总算对铲除纳粹主义也作了一点贡献。似乎没有一个人关心实际上究竟生产了、并且用船运走了多少物资。作战计划处那边的数字叫他大吃一惊。互相冲突的委员会和办事处，互相矛盾的指令，陆军航空兵团、海军和陆军互相重复的要求，而英国方面的需要压倒了整个计划。在一系列乱糟糟的惊人的会议、会谈和油印文件中，《租借法案》陷于瘫痪了。 他也不断地在心里琢磨着他的妻子和那个英国姑娘有多么不同。最后，他爬了起来，把一杯烈性的威士忌象吞药丸那么喝了下去。 那个星期的下一半，希特勒的副元首，那个黑眉毛的狂热的鲁道夫•赫斯忽然独自飞到苏格兰，跳降落伞着陆，要求会见温斯顿•丘吉尔。听到发生这样的事，帕格象大多数人一样，也高兴起来。有那么一两天，德国好象要分裂。可是纳粹立即宣布，赫斯是由于为国操劳过度，以致神经失常。英国人公开没作什么表示。帕格从帕米拉那里听说（她又是从大使馆听到的）赫斯事实上已经疯极了，他被关在疗养院里，胡乱说着他的和平计划。 从战争消息看，德国确实没有削弱的迹象。在希腊，他们抓到了大批大批的英国俘虏，夺取了堆积如山的军火。在大西洋上，他们炸沉了大量的船只。他们从伦敦和利物浦上空丢下了比一九四○年的闪击战中还要多的燃烧弹。他们包围了托布鲁克，还从英国地中海舰队的头上飞过，在克里特岛发动了令人吃惊的空降入侵。在战区的各个方面，他们都在这样倾泻着军事活力，这种熔岩般泛滥着的暴力真是可怕。面对着这一切，维希的法国畏缩起来，正和纳粹谈判着一项把北非拱手交给他们的交易，说不定连法国的强大舰队也要一并奉送呢。对那些尽力想使法国保守中立、不让德国染指非洲的法属达喀尔（它伸出在海面上、控制着整个大西洋）的美国外交官来说，真是碰了个鼻青脸肿。 看来没有力量能使纳粹停下来。在克里特岛上筑下深沟高垒、装备精良的英军宣称在大量杀伤从天空来的入侵者，然而不管抓住降落伞背带跳下来的是死是活，或者随着滑翔机撞落在地上，大批的空降部队还是来了。原来很富于自信的英国公报语气变得越来越含糊。他们似乎已承认德国人以难以置信的代价终于夺取了一个飞机场，后来又夺取了另一个。不久才明白，原来希特勒在克里特岛干着一件崭新的事：完全不凭海军力量，光从空中名副其实地从英国海军的虎口中夺取一个防御坚固的海岛。这个消息对英国的威胁大极了。除了这个严重败绩本身之外，克里特岛越发象是战局收场的一次演习。 可是美国仍旧无所作为。在作战计划处内部，陆军和海军的分歧开始变得越来越大。维克多•亨利这一派主张立即在北非采取强有力的行动，以拯救英国：护航，占领冰岛，尽一切力量输送军火。可是陆军方面估计英国只有三个月就得垮台，主张在巴西和亚速尔群岛方面采取行动，预防纳粹以达喀尔为据点侵入南大西洋。总统在这两种计划之间摇摆，举棋不定。 这时，传来十分可怕的消息：德国一条新建造的军舰“俾斯麦号”在格陵兰海面上从十三海里以外用一阵排炮击沉了英国强大的军舰“胡德号”，然后在北大西洋的浓雾中逃得无影无踪！这下把全国从春意阑珊中震醒过来了。总统宣布将作一次重大的广播演说，报纸和广播中充满了对这次演说的推测。他会不会宣布开始护航？他会不会要求国会宣战？“俾斯麦号”这个锐不可当的战绩似乎表明，希特勒除了陆地和天空外，他也正在取得海洋的霸权。大西洋的实力均势忽然起了明显而可怕的变化。 罗达对这个沉痛消息的反应是以焦躁、疯狂的心情大声唠叨着白宫会不会在她已经普遍告诉了她所有的朋友之后，又取消这次晚宴的邀请。弗兰克林•德•罗斯福多半已经在准备参战了，他哪里还会去理会一次社交性的宴会——尤其请的又是象他们这样无足轻重的人。维克多•亨利为了得到些安宁，特别去问了下总统的海军侍从：白宫的邀请没有变动。 “爸，你怎么看，英国军舰会逮住'俾斯麦号'吗？” 拜伦跨坐在澡盆边上。他留意维克多•亨利刮脸的时候仍然喜欢把一条腿放在澡盆上。帕格的刮脸动作也没有改，仍旧是依次刮双颊、下巴和脖子，然后皱起眉头以伸出上唇。拜伦小时候就无数次地象这样坐在那里，和他爸说着话。 “嗯，勃拉尼，他们宣称'威尔士亲王号'在格陵兰附近 打伤了它的侧翼。可是德国人很有损坏控制的本领。我到'俾斯麦号'上去过。它是一个海上的钢铁蜂窝，要是被击中了，他们多半把灌进水的部分封闭起来，然后关上灯往回跑。英国人正在倾全力搜索'俾斯麦号'，什么护航、什么地中海，都顾不上了。他们知道'俾斯麦号'在朝什么地方跑——往 法国海岸，开足了马力往那里溜。英国人也知道'俾斯麦 号'的最高速度。照理说，飞机应该可以发现它，除非……”他把刮脸刀在水里涮了涮，又甩一甩。“除非'俾斯麦号'根本没受到损伤，那样的话，任何护航船队碰上它也只好听天由命了。从它表现的火力控制来看，半小时之内它足可以炸沉四十条船。 " “我多么愿意参加这个搜索行动啊，”拜伦说。 “你愿意吗？”帕格用喜悦的眼色望了望他的儿子。当拜伦看到他父亲和以前一模一样的时候，维克多•亨利却看到儿子从一个苍白、忧郁、瘦脸膛的小男孩变成了一个漂亮、六尺高、穿了蓝色嵌金军服的海军少尉。帕格用湿手巾揩了揩脸。“几点啦？咱们快点儿吧。” 拜伦随着他进了梳妆间。“嗳，爸，你跟总统很接近，对吗？” 帕格扣着衬衣钮扣说：“接近？据我看，谁也不真正跟罗斯福先生接近，也许除了这个哈利•霍普金斯。” 拜伦蹲在一条板凳上，望着他父亲穿衣服。 “昨天我又接到娜塔丽两封信。她最后还是给卡住了。”帕格站在梳妆台前面，朝镜子皱着眉头。 "What should we do now?" “还是为了那件事，爸。还是关于她叔叔的父亲在入美国籍问题上胡扯一气，他的护照有效期得不到续签。这个官员答应给续签，另外一个又刁难起来。这件事就这么转来转去。” “叫你的妻子回国，让她叔叔在那里等待时机。” “爸，让我把话说完吧，”拜伦挥起双手。“本来一切都安排好了，他们甚至都买了船票。只是华盛顿的某种批准手续始终也没下来。娜塔丽只好又把船票卖掉了。爸，他们现在可给德国人包围了。德国人在法国、南斯拉夫、希腊、北非——也可以说在整个意大利。他们是两个犹太人。” “这我知道，”维克多•亨利说。 罗达在寝室里大声嚷道：“帕格，你过来一下好吗？我的神经失常啦。” 他发现她穿了一件紧身的蓝色绸礼服，正对着一面全身的穿衣镜凝视着自己，礼服背后敞着，露出内衣和一大片玫瑰色肌肤。“替我钩上。瞧，我的肚子有多鼓，”她说。“这是怎么回事？这件讨厌的衣服在铺子里看的时候，一点也不象这样啊。当时好看得很呢。” “你的肚子不鼓，”尽管她背后的光线很暗，维克多•亨利还是想法替她把扣子钩上了。“你看来十分漂亮。” “啊，帕格。哎哟，我鼓出了一尺。我就象怀了六个月的胎似的，样子可真怕人。我使的还是我最紧的一根腰带。哎，这可怎么好？” 她丈夫把扣子钩好以后，就走开了。罗达的样子和往常没有什么不同。她发出穿晚礼服时总要发出的声音。她的感叹和质问都是故意夸张的，最好不去理会。 拜伦仍旧蹲在那条板凳上。“爸，我本想也许你可以向总统提提这件事。”维克多•亨利的反应快而干脆。“这个想法没道理。” 死寂的沉默。拜伦一下子坐在板凳上，双肘支在膝上，两只手紧紧攥在一起。儿子脸上露出的敌意——甚至近乎仇恨——使帕格感到震惊。 “拜伦，我不认为你妻子的叔叔在美国籍问题上的麻烦适宜于拿到美国总统面前去解决。事情就是这样。” “噢，我知道你不肯管。你根本不高兴我娶了个犹太人，你一直就是这样。你也不在乎她会有什么遭遇。” 罗达正戴着手套，大步走了进来。“老天爷，你们两个还在嘟囔些什么？帕格，你好不好穿起上衣一道走？” 亨利一家在白宫前头宾夕法尼亚路这边碰到了几十个纠察队员，举着破破烂烂的椭圆形反战标语牌排队走着，齐声呼喊：“美国人不去！”离他们不远，有几个人身前身后挂着牌子踱来踱去，牌子上面写着：“美国的反战运动是共产党的阵线。”两个打着哈欠的警察在监视这平静的示威。 “晚安。”一个穿着花哨制服的高个子黑人开了门，他的嗓音——至少在罗达听来———很象《魔笛》①里的男低音。在五月里一个和煦的夜晚，亨利一家穿过白宫里芳香的草地花丛走进铺着耀眼的大理石的宽敞前厅。一个穿了常礼服的中年人站在用黄铜镶在地上的总统纹章旁边。他自我介绍说是总招待员。“亨利太太，等下您坐在总统的左首，”他说着，朝一张大卡片瞟了一眼。“您看，挪威的皇太子妃玛塔是住在白宫的客人，她坐在右首。” ①奥地利作曲家莫扎特（1756—1791）的歌剧。 “噢，是的，是的。哎呀，玛塔皇太子妃？她的位分当然比我高了。”罗达神经质地吃吃笑了笑说。 “我估计我们来得太早啦，”维克多•亨利说。 “一点也不太早。请过这边来。”招待员把他们让进一间宽大的叫作“红房”的休息室，说过一会儿就请他们上楼，说完就走了。 “哎，可惜华伦没赶上这个场面！”罗达望了望挂在靠近高大的天花板的一幅幅历届总统的画像和室内一色红套子的雅致家具。“他还特别喜欢读美国史。” “正是这样，”梅德琳用明亮、灵活的眼睛四下里打量着。她穿了一件长袖的黑绸礼服，钮扣一直扣到颈部，和她母亲裸着胳膊和胸部的装束恰成对照。“咱们就好象走进了一本历史书似的。” “不知道可不可以抽烟？”拜伦说。 “不要，不要，可抽不得，”他母亲说。 帕格说：“为什么抽不得？这里到处都有烟灰缸。这是个住宅。你们可知道白宫实际上是什么样吗？”他也有些紧张，不过借着说话来掩饰。“这好比基地上司令官的住所。又好比是大亨们住的有侍役的华丽大厦。这所是最大的，也是最华丽的。这只不过是对当上了头号人物的一份额外酬劳。” “可是想想看，到这儿来实地管管家！”罗达说。尽管身边没有旁人，他们说话的嗓音还是不自然，要么嘁嘁喳喳，要么声音太大。“就是给我一大队仆人，我也会急得发疯。我就不能设想她是怎么管理的，尤其象她那样还在全国各处跑来跑去。拜伦，千万，小心你那烟灰。” “请允许我向你们介绍萨姆纳•威尔斯先生，”总招待员让进一个秃顶、消瘦、神色忧郁的男人。“我想现在我们可以上楼了。”当副国务卿和亨利一家握手的时候，他又说。 电梯把他们送上楼。在一间挂了海洋画的宏伟的黄色房间一端，总统坐在他的书桌后边，正在哗啷啷地搅拌着鸡尾酒。 “哦，来啦，正赶上喝头一轮！”他笑着大声说，嘴咧得很大，他那张亲切的、粉红色的脸容光焕发。他的嗓音有一种清脆、精力充沛的回响。他系着一条黑领带，穿的是常礼服上身，里边是柔软的白衬衫。帕格弯下身去从书桌那边拿酒的时候，注意到总统下边穿的是棕色便裤。“帕格，我希望亨利太太喜欢桔花味的。晚上好，萨姆纳。” 总统用潮润的手使劲和亨利一家一一握了手——他的手刚离开搅拌器，还在发凉。“萨姆纳，你怎么样？你喝旁的吗？你，我调的马提尼酒也满不坏哩。” “谢谢，先生。看来这正合适。” 这时，埃莉诺•罗斯福正站在屋子中间壁炉旁边，跟一个高个子、黑头发的女人和一个尖脸、上年纪的矮个儿男人在一道喝鸡尾酒。他们两边，敞开着的窗上镶了花边的帏幌摆来摆去，吹进来暖风，随风还带进了浓烈的花香。招待员把亨利一家人介绍给罗斯福夫人、玛塔皇太子妃和萨默塞特•毛姆。罗达一听到这位作家的名字，就打破了她的拘谨态度。“哎哟，毛姆先生！可真想不到。也许我太冒昧了，可是您的书我全看过了，我本本都喜欢。” 这位作家吐了一口香烟，结结巴巴地说：“那……那太客气啦。”说的时候，只动了动他那撇着的薄嘴唇，他那上年纪的朦胧的眼睛还是那么冷冰冰的，一动不动。 “啊，既然都齐了，为什么不坐下来？”总统夫人把一把椅子挪近了书桌，男人们马上也照样做，只有萨默塞特•毛姆例外，他坐到拜伦放的一把椅子上了。 “萨姆纳，关于'俾斯麦号'有什么最新的消息？”总统说。 “五点以后没有更新的消息，先生。” “噢，五点以后我跟在伦敦的艾弗里尔谈过了，通话的情形糟得很，不过，我估计没什么真正的新闻。帕格，你怎么看？他们能逮住它吗？” “总统先生，这次演习可够吃力的。海洋那么大，天气又那么坏。” “你总该知道，”弗兰克林•罗斯福狡黠地说。 “要是确实象他们所宣称的已经打伤了它的侧翼，”帕格接着说，'那么他们就应该逮住它。 " “噢，他们击中了'俾斯麦号'。他们的几艘巡洋舰跟着漂浮的油迹一直追到浓雾里。这是直接从丘吉尔那里来的消息。哈里曼正在他官邸里作客。” 罗达正在尽量不去注视玛塔皇太子妃，她觉得那位妃子拿鸡尾酒杯的样子象是在捧着笏。罗达无意中也在模仿她的姿势。罗达断定自己的肌肤差不多和妃子的一样好看，虽然妃子比她小，有这么多的黑头发，梳的发式还挺可笑。她脑子里尽想着王室，没跟上席间关于战争的谈话。所以当大家站起来的时候，她有点吃惊。他们留下总统，随着罗斯福夫人走到电梯那边。等他们到了餐厅，弗兰克林•罗斯福已经坐在那里，被安置在主人的席位上。这里，敞开的窗户也吹进浓郁的花香，还搀杂着餐桌中央一只大银碗里荷兰石竹的芳香。 “哦，今天可是个好日子！”他们就座以后，总统大声说，显然要使大家都感到自在。“福特公司最后答应皮尔•克努德森在他们的大厂房去建造解放者式轰炸机。我们一直在为这件事着急。看来实业家们终于也觉醒过来了。”他开始喝汤，大家也吃了起来。“到秋天，我们每个月要制造五百架重轰炸机，这下可以办到了。毛姆先生，这是可以传给英国的大好消息！到秋天，我们每个月要生产五百架重轰炸机。这可是很有份量的情报。” “总统先……先生，有……有份量的情报是……”毛姆的结巴引起了大家的注意，所以都留心听他说完。“是你说……说你们将要生产它们。” 作家还没说完，总统就笑了，然后又大声笑了起来。帕格看得出，这位在白宫下榻的客人是享有开玩笑的特权的。 “在上次大战期间，毛姆先生是英国的一名间谍，帕格，”总统从餐桌对面说着。“嗯，他还写过一本间谍小说呢——《阿申登》。你在这儿说什么可得小心点儿，丘吉尔会马上知道的。” “总统先……先生，你知道一个白宫的客人永远不会干那种事。你可以相信我现在已经不是一只雪……雪……雪貂了， 我已经变成一种更低级的动物。一……一……一个吃闲饭的。 " 罗斯福夫人在哄堂大笑中愉快地说：“弗兰克林，为了凑成个好日子，还发生了些什么呢？” “哦，那些小子作了无数次修改，终于完成了我要作的重大演讲的草稿，看起来还不错，还不错。所以我请他们吃咖啡和三明治。现在我把他们锁在楼底下，再改一遍。萨姆纳，现在该把赌注押在哪儿？我应该要求国会宣战呢，还是宣布护航？还是什么别的？象这样悬而不决连我也受不了啦。”总统笑了，随后又说：“毛姆先生，作为一个大作家，您猜得出我要讲些什么吗？是战争？是护航？还是什么真正新的灵感？” “总统先生，你记……记得你读过的《奥列佛•退斯特》吗？'先生，求求您，我还……还要点儿。'①” “当然记得，”总统说，他那双长得很近的、机灵的眼睛闪烁着，等待着一个笑话。 “那么，先生，求……求您，”作家把脸绷得十分严肃地说，“我要……要点儿战争。②” ①《奥列佛•退斯特》是英国小说家狄更斯写于1838年的一部长篇小说。 ②引文见小说的第二章，描写主人公在贫儿习艺所里吃粥的时候，吃了一碗不饱，还要一碗，被管理员认为大逆不道，赶了出来。英语里“还要点儿”与“要点儿战争”发音近似。 全桌上都爆发了笑声。 “哈，哈，哈！说得正象个英国特务！”总统说，又普遍引起一阵笑声。 穿制服的侍役清了桌面，准备上另一道菜。弗兰克林•罗斯福显然对切那块小羊脊肉很感兴趣。罗达•亨利鼓起勇气说了句：“哎，要是帕格能切得那样有多么好！” “噢，我相信他能。”总统得意洋洋地拱起他那浓重、斑白的眉毛，很巧妙地挥起那把刀割去。“罗达，我喜欢把羊羔片成这样，你呢？不喜欢大厚块，也不喜欢薄片片。诀窍就是得有一把快刀，和一只果断的手。” 维克多•亨利正在回答罗斯福夫人关于纳粹德国的问题。他提高了嗓音，因为她说过她的耳朵有些聋。 “帕格，你在说什么？”总统一边切肉，一边竖起一只耳朵说。“我漏掉什么有趣的话了吗？” “先生，我刚才在说，我离开德国的时候，他们刚开始加快速度搞工业。” “真奇怪。那么他们没加快速度的时候，成绩也不坏呀。” “哦，总统先生，事实是，旁的国家比他们还差劲。” 罗斯福把脸朝向坐在皇太子妃右首的毛姆。“威利，亨利上校也曾干过情报这一行。他在柏林当海军武官的时候，早在希特勒和斯大林签署那个协定之前就推断出来了。所有那些机警的外交官、将军和专栏作家都给骗得一怔怔的，可是帕格早就知道了。帕格，你现在怎样推断？大批军队在东线的集结意味着什么？希特勒会攻打俄国吗？”帕格从总统那聪颖、机智的一瞥明白他心目中想的是在火车上所讨论的那个文件。 “总统先生，自从那次碰上好运气之后，我就丢掉了我的水晶球①，把我的证书扔了。” ①欧美星卜家用水晶球算命，妄测未来。 毛姆摇了摇一只暴着青筋的、为烟草染污了的手指。“上……上校，干咱们这……这一行，永远别承认是碰运气。” “萨姆纳，你怎么看？”总统说。 “如果仔细研究一下，”萨姆纳用殡葬承办人的口气说，“迟早他要进攻，这是没法避免的。” “他多久以前写的那本书？二十年前？”弗兰克林•罗斯福说，他那有力的声音使罗达很强烈地想起他广播时的样子。 “我可不愿意受我老早说过或者写过的东西的约束。” 罗斯福夫人说：“毛姆先生……要是德国进攻苏联，英国会援助俄国吗？还是让斯大林自作自受去？” 这位作家朝总统的夫人望了好几秒钟。死寂的沉默笼罩着全桌。“我……我实在说不好。” “威利，你要知道，”总统说，“这里很多人都不相信鲁道夫•赫斯犯了神经病这个说法。他们传说他是被派到那里去告诉英国人说，德国就要攻打俄国了，要取得一个叫你们袖手旁观的协议；作为回报，他们答应帮助你们保持住大英帝国。” “这正是里的计划。”罗斯福夫人象个学校教师那样坦率地说。 萨默塞特•毛姆在总统和他夫人的爽快语言的交叉火力下，只摊了摊双手，往椅子上一缩，样子显得又小又老，而且疲惫不堪。 “萨姆纳，”罗斯福说，“要是英国人不援助俄国，你认为我们能向美国人民说清楚吗？” “总统先生，我想那么一来，对英国的援助也就吹了，”萨姆纳•威尔斯说。“如果希特勒是对全人类的一个威胁，那是一回事；如果他只是对大英帝国的一个威胁，那又是大大不同的另一回事啦。” 总统瞟了英国作家一眼，用轻松得多的语调说：“哦，我来再切点羊羔好不好？” “总统先生，劳驾您给我切点，”皇太子妃提高了嗓音说。 “自然，希特勒在东边集结军队也许正是为了入侵英国哩。”妃子的英语发音很准确，略带些斯堪的纳维亚口音。帕格想，她这是正在机智地替毛姆适才一瞬间的窘促打圆场呢。这之前，她一直没有开口。“你们知道，每逢希特勒开始一个新的战役，斯大林就这里掐点什么那里捏点什么的。这也许是为了显示实力，好让斯大林不敢染指罗马尼亚的油田。” “那倒也是可能的，”萨姆纳•威尔斯说。 “欧洲政治可以纠缠不清到这么可怜的地步，”罗斯福夫人说。 “可是当前都归结到希特勒的冲动上，”总统说。“可惜咱们得跟这个怪物生活在同一个世纪。喂，这儿有两位同那个家伙面对面长谈过。咱们来一次'民意测验'吧。萨姆纳，你认为希特勒是个疯子吗？” “总统先生，我曾尽量寻找这方面的证据。可是正象我所报告的，我发现他是一个冷静、很有知识、巧妙的鼓动家，很有尊严，而且——我担心——他还有一定的魅力。” “你呢，帕格？” “总统先生，您可别误会；在我看来，到现在为止，所有的国家首脑相同的地方比不同的地方要多。” 罗斯福好象大吃一惊，随后把头朝后一仰，哈哈大笑起来。于是旁的人也笑了。“呃，这话可有分量！在我自己的餐桌上，竟然把我和希特勒相提并论了！帕格，你最好快快把你的话讲个透。” “然而我说的是实话，先生。同他面对面相见，他给人一种强有力的感觉——尽管我不愿意承认这一点。他有令人难以置信的记忆力，谈话的本领惊人，能有条不紊地列举许多事实。在公开演讲的时候，他经常象个地地道道的疯子那样胡言乱语。不过，我相信他只是为了投德国人之所好才那么干的。这一点给我的印象也很深。他善于扮演完全不同的角色。” 罗斯福这时略有些笑容。“对，帕格，干这种行当就得有那样的本事。他当然是个能干家伙。不然的话，他也不会给咱们制造这么多麻烦啦。” 罗达忍不住问了一句：“帕格，你到底什么时候同希特勒谈过话？这对我可是个新闻。”做妻子的这种不加掩饰的受委屈的语气使总统笑了起来，笑声响遍了全桌。她转过身来对罗斯福说：“真的，他的嘴巴总是闭得严严的。可是，这样的事也不让我知道知道！” “你用不着知道，”帕格从桌子对面说。 “亨利上……上校，”萨默塞特•毛姆朝前弯了弯身子说，“我向一位同……同行致敬。” 谈话分散成轻松的闲谈了。罗斯福对罗达•亨利说：“亲爱的，你在大庭广众之下对你丈夫的这个称赞不能更高了。” “我这可不是有意的。想想看，他就是个斯芬克斯①，他这个人。”她朝帕格送去一个温情的眼色。这时，她对他十分亲切；老实说，她对整个世界都是亲切的，因为一瞬间她在总统的餐桌上很自然地取得了成功。 ①希腊神话中狮身人面的怪物，它专给路人出谜语猜。这里是说维克多•亨利叫人捉摸不透。 “帕格是个优秀的军官，”总统说。“我认为他会干出些大事情来。”罗达兴奋极了。“总统先生，我一直是这么认为的。” “并不是人人都配有一位这么漂亮的太太，”罗斯福用一种连她袒露着的部位也领略了的、确乎充满人情味的眼色望了她一下，“可是，罗达，他配。” 出于世上最古老的本能，罗达•亨利飞红了脸，朝着罗斯福大人那边望去。这时，罗斯福夫人正和萨姆纳•威尔斯深谈。罗达心里忽然闪了个念头：这位高个子的女人嫁了个个子很高的男人。但是帕格至少可以走路。罗达想，生活以一种奇特的方式取得了平衡。这个让人头晕目眩的情势正在使她变得达观起来。 梅德琳和拜伦各坐在餐桌的一边。她坐在毛姆和威尔斯之间，拜伦坐在皇太子妃和一个名叫莉兰诺的穿一身紫的老妇人之间。这位老妇人在整个晚上什么也没说，看来显然是住在白宫的一个亲戚，兴趣主要在吃上头。梅德琳先是和副国务卿后来和那位著名作家在交谈。她脸上活泼、奋亢而快活，不住地用手比划着做手势。当她告诉毛姆她的职业时，毛姆答应在克里弗兰的访问节目里出现。他坦率地说，他到美国来就是为了替英国作宣传的，所以他何乐而不为？她高兴得要命。 在整个晚宴上，拜伦一直坐在那里闷声不响，泰然自若，置身度外。维克多•亨利留意到罗斯福用困惑的目光望着他。总统总喜欢叫人人都高高兴兴的，在他周围只要春气洋洋的面孔。帕格不断地瞅他的儿子，希望和他的目光相碰，然后暗示他振作起来。 吃冰激凌的时候，总统趁着餐桌上消停的一刹那说：“我们还没听到这位潜艇军官说什么呢。拜伦，你倒天生的适合那小沉默的工作。哈哈。”这个年轻军官只对他忧郁地笑了笑。 “你们那个单位士气怎么样？” “很好，总统先生。” “你是不是准备随时打