Time and Time Again Read Free Page B

trial crop of wild oats should be sown under experienced sponsorship--nothing extreme, of course--just a visit to one of those rather absurd places where it could do a young man no harm to get his first sight of a row of nude women cavorting so closely that one could see all their imperfections.
    How pleasant to think of these things, to plan them gently in his mind while Palan bellowed his abominable French amidst the gilt- framed mirrors and Buhl cabinets that seemed, by their contrasting elegance, to focus the whole eye of the past upon the world's deplorable present.

    * * * * *

    On the day of Gerald's arrival events at the Conference had been particularly trying. To begin with, Sir Malcolm's arthritis had forced him to quit at the lunch interval and leave affairs during the afternoon in Charles's hands, and this, which in normal circumstances would have been both a challenge and an opportunity, turned out much more like an ordeal. For Palan, under the silent surveillance of his own superior, had concentrated upon Charles with a certain grim joyousness that had been just amusing enough to keep the Conference room in the wrong kind of good humour; Charles had a feeling he was being baited, and that even a few of his colleagues were enjoying the performance. Not that Charles lacked weapons of his own. He was sound if somewhat precise in argument; he had an expert's knowledge of the matters being discussed; he was also patient, often witty, and unfailingly polite. He could not bring himself to show temper, even when he felt it rising within himself; whereas Palan, he suspected, often put on an act of temper when he felt none. Moreover, Charles had acquired a masterly technique of listening with apparent equanimity while he was being ridiculed. 'M'sieur Anderson is, of course, a man of much greater diplomatic experience than I,' Palan had mocked, 'but I would venture to match my knowledge of the world against his, for when you have probed behind all the statistics in blue books and white papers, when you have got down to the bedrock of reality, what is it that you find? Is it merely a diplomatic game, to be played by those who have been to the right school and college like M'sieur Anderson, or is it LIFE?' And all that sort of thing.
    Charles had replied: 'M'sieur Palan is in error if he supposes that I regard these proceedings as a game. Since I dislike games I am certainly under no temptation to adopt such an attitude.' (A few titters from his neighbours.) 'And as for M'sieur Palan's knowledge of the world, I have no means of computing it, but I should not readily assume it to be greater than mine, though doubtless it has been of a very different kind of world.' There had been a general laugh at that, but Charles had not been quite certain at whose expense.
    Throughout the afternoon they had sparred, and more and more it had seemed to Charles that Palan was regarding him as a personal adversary. By the time of the adjournment Charles could only pray that Sir Malcolm's arthritis would improve enough for him to take over the following morning. Charles felt that though he had done quite creditably as a substitute, it had worn some frayed edges on his nerves.
    His spirits rose, however, as he waited on the platform at the Gare de l'Est. It was good to have a growing-up son, and he thought happily of the corner table at the Cheval Noir which Henri was doubtless already preparing. The train came in, with the familiar place names attached to its coaches--Berne, Delle, Vesoul, Chaumont, Troyes . . . It had been Gerald's first European trip-- what magic it must have contained, and now to culminate so fittingly!
    Charles was still thinking of that when his son spotted him first. 'Hello, dad. . . . I didn't really expect you to meet me--I thought you'd be too busy.'
    'My dear boy. . . .' They shook hands. 'However busy I am, I'd take time off for this, I assure you.'
    The noise of the station excused him from saying more. Gerald was