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“Quite a chapter of accidents,” he said when Mr. Merryman paused. “Yerse. Well, we’ll see what we can do for you.” He added, “Sir,” but not in the ma
Mr. Merryman said, “You will carry out my instructions immediately. I am going to take a short walk. When I return I shall expect to find it done.” De
“And I’ll take me oaf,” De
Father Jourdain’s brother-priest had helped him to bestow his modest possessions about his room. This done, they had looked at each other with the hesitant and slightly self-conscious ma
“Well—” they both said together and Father Jourdain added, “It was good of you to come all this way. I’ve been glad of your company.”
“Have you?” his colleague rejoined. “And I, needless to say, of yours.” He hid his hands under his cloak and stood modestly before Father Jourdain. “The bus leaves at eleven,” he said. “You’d like to settle down, I expect.”
Father Jourdain asked, smiling, “Is there something you want to say to me?”
“Nothing of the smallest consequence. It’s just — well, I’ve suddenly realized how very much it’s meant to me having the great benefit of your example.”
“My dear man!”
“No, really! You strike me, Father, as being quite tremendously sufficient (under God and our rule, of course) to yourself. All the brothers are a little in awe of you, did you know? I think we all feel that we know much less about you than we do about each other. Father Bernard said the other day that although ours is not a silent order you kept your own rule of spiritual silence.”
“I don’t know that I am altogether delighted by Father Bernhard’s aphorism.”
“Aren’t you? He meant it awfully nicely. But I really do chatter much too much. I should take myself in hand and do something about it, I expect. Good-bye, Father. God bless you.”
“And you, my dear fellow. But I’ll walk with you to the bus.”
“No — please—”
“I should like to.”
They found their way down to the lower deck. Father Jourdain said a word to the sailor at the head of the gangway and both priests went ashore. The sailor watched them pace along the wharf towards the passageway at the far end of which the bus waited. In their black cloaks and hats they looked fantastic. The fog swirled about them as they walked. Half an hour had gone by before Father Jourdain returned alone. It was then a quarter past eleven.
Miss Abbott’s cabin was opposite Mrs. Dillington-Blick’s. De
Time went by. The ship moved a little at her moorings. Miss Abbott heard Mrs. Dillington-Blick’s rich laughter and was remotely and very slightly eased. There was the noise of fresh arrivals, of footsteps overhead, and of dockside activities. From a more distant part of the passengers’ quarters came sounds of revelry and of a resonant male voice that was somehow familiar. Soon Miss Abbott was to know why. The cabin door had been hooked ajar, so that when Mrs. Dillington-Blick’s friend came into the passage she was very clearly audible. Mrs. Dillington-Blick stood in her own open doorway and said through giggles, “Go on, then, I dare you,” and the friend went creaking down the passage. She returned evidently in high excitement saying, “My dear, it is! He’s shaved it off! The steward told me. It’s Aubyn Dale! My dear, how perfectly gorgeous for you.”
There was another burst of giggling, through which Mrs. Dillington-Blick said something about not being able to wait for the tropics to wear her Jolyon swimsuit. Their further ejaculations were cut off by the shutting of their door.
“Silly fools,” Miss Abbott thought dully, having not the smallest interest in television personalities. Presently she began to wonder if she really would throw the photograph overboard when the ship was out at sea. Suppose she were to tear it up now and drop the pieces in the wastepaper basket? Or into the harbour? How lonely she would be then! The heavily knuckled fingers drummed on the bony knees and their owner began to think about things going overboard into the harbour. The water would be cold and dirty, polluted by the excreta of ships; revolting!
“Oh, God!” Miss Abbott said. “How hellishly unhappy I am.”
De
“Telegram, Miss Abbott,” he fluted.
“Telegram? For me? Yes?”
He unhooked the door and came in.
Miss Abbott took the telegram and shakily opened it. It fluttered between her fingers.
DARLING ABBEY SO MISERABLE DO PLEASE WRITE OR IF NOT TOO LATE TELEPHONE. F.
De
“Well — ye-ees. I mean to say—”
“Or telephone? Can I telephone?”
“There’s a ’phone on board, but I seen a queue lined up when I passed.”
“How long before we sail?”
“An hour, near enough, but the ’phone goes off earlier.”
Miss Abbott said distractedly, “It’s very important. Very urgent indeed.”
“ ’Tch, ’tch.”
“Wait. Didn’t I see a call box on the dock? Near the place where the bus stopped?”
“That’s correct,” he said appreciatively. “Fancy you noticing!”
“I’ve time to go off, haven’t I?”
“Plenty of time, Miss Abbott. Oodles.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll go at once.”
“There’s coffee and sandwiches on in the dining-room
“I don’t want them. I’ll go now.”
“Cold outside. Proper freezer. Need a coat, Miss Abbott, won’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Oh, very well. Thank you.”
She took her coat out of the wardrobe, snatched up her handbag, and hurried out.
“Straight ahead, down the companionway and turn right,” he called after her and, added, “Don’t get lost in the fog, now.”
Her ma
Mr. and Mrs. Cuddy sat on their respective beds and eyed each other with the semi-jocular family air that they reserved for intimate occasions. The blowers on the bulkhead were pouring hot air into the cabin, the porthole was sealed, the luggage was stowed, and the Cuddys were cosy.
“All right so far,” Mrs. Cuddy said guardedly.
“Satisfied, dear?”
“Can’t complain. Seems clean.”
“Our own shower and toilet,” he pointed out, jerking his head at a narrow door.
“They’ve all got that,” she said. “I wouldn’t fancy sharing.”
“What did you make of the crowd, though? Fu
“R. C. priests.”
“Only the one. The other was seeing-off. Do you reckon R. C?”
“Looked like it, didn’t it?”
Mr. Cuddy smiled. He had a strange thin smile, very broad and knowing. “They look ridiculous to me,” he said.
“We’re moving in high society, it seems,” Mrs. Cuddy remarked. “Notice the furs?”