No More Parades Ford Madox Ford (mini ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: Ford Madox Ford
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She found an early opportunity to carry on her investigations. For, at dinner that night, she found herself, Tietjens having gone to the telephone with a lance-corporal, opposite what she took to be a small tradesman, with fresh-coloured cheeks, and a great, grey, forward-sprouting moustache, in a uniform so creased that the creases resembled the veins of a leafâ ââ ⊠A very trustworthy small tradesman: the grocer from round the corner whom, sometimes, you allow to supply you with paraffinâ ââ ⊠He was saying to her:
âIf, maâam, you multiply two-thousand nine hundred and something by ten you arrive at twenty-nine thousand oddâ ââ âŠâ
And she had exclaimed:
âYou really mean that my husband, Captain Tietjens, spent yesterday afternoon in examining twenty-nine thousand toenailsâ ââ ⊠And two thousand nine hundred toothbrushesâ ââ âŠâ
âI told him,â her interlocutor answered with deep seriousness, âthat these being Colonial troops it was not so necessary to examine their toothbrushesâ ââ ⊠Imperial troops will use the brush they clean their buttons with for their teeth so as to have a clean toothbrush to show the medical officerâ ââ âŠâ
âIt sounds,â she said with a little shudder, âas if you were all schoolboys playing a gameâ ââ ⊠And you say my husband really occupies his mind with such thingsâ ââ âŠâ
Second-Lieutenant Cowley, dreadfully conscious that the shoulder-strap of his Sam Browne belt, purchased that afternoon at the Ordnance, and therefore brand-new, did not match the abdominal part of the belt that he had had for nearly ten yearsâ âa splendid bit of leather, that!â âanswered nevertheless stoutly:
âMadam! If the brains of an army arenât, the life of an army isâ ââ ⊠in its feetâ ââ ⊠And nowadays, the medical officers say, in its teethâ ââ ⊠Your husband, maâam, is an admirable officerâ ââ ⊠He says that no draft he turns out shallâ ââ âŠâ
She said:
âHe spent three hours inâ ââ ⊠You say, foot and kit inspectionâ ââ âŠâ
Second-Lieutenant Cowley said:
âOf course he had other officers to help him with the kitâ ââ ⊠but he looked at every foot himselfâ ââ âŠâ
She said:
âThat took him from two till fiveâ ââ ⊠Then he had tea, I supposeâ ââ ⊠And went toâ ââ ⊠What is it?â ââ ⊠The papers of the draftâ ââ âŠâ
Second-Lieutenant Cowley said, muffled through his moustache:
âIf the captain is a little remiss in writing lettersâ ââ ⊠I have heardâ ââ ⊠You might, madamâ ââ ⊠Iâm a married man myselfâ ââ ⊠with a daughterâ ââ ⊠And the army is not very good at writing lettersâ ââ ⊠You might say, in that respect, that thank God we have got a navy, maâamâ ââ âŠâ
She let him stagger on for a sentence or two, imagining that, in his confusion, she might come upon traces of Miss Wannop in Rouen. Then she said handsomely:
âOf course you have explained everything, Mr. Cowley, and I am very much obligedâ ââ ⊠Of course my husband would not have time to write very full lettersâ ââ ⊠He is not like the giddy young subalterns who run afterâ ââ âŠâ
He exclaimed in a great roar of laughter:
âThe captain run after skirtsâ ââ ⊠Why, I can number on my hands the times heâs been out of my sight since heâs had the battalion!â
A deep wave of depression went over Sylvia.
âWhy,â Lieutenant Cowley laughed on, âif we had a laugh against him it was that he mothered the lot of us as if he was a hen sitting on addled eggsâ ââ ⊠For itâs only a ragtime army, as the saying is, when youâve said the best for it that you canâ ââ ⊠And look at the other commanding officers weâve had before we had himâ ââ ⊠There was Major Brooksâ ââ ⊠Never up before noon, if then, and out of camp by two-thirty. Get your returns ready for signing before then or never get âem signedâ ââ ⊠And Colonel Potterâ ââ ⊠Bless my soulâ ââ ⊠âe wouldnât sign any blessed papers at allâ ââ ⊠He lived down here in this hotel, and we never saw him up at the camp at allâ ââ ⊠But the captainâ ââ ⊠We always say thatâ ââ ⊠if âe was a Chelsea adjutant getting off a draft of the Second Coldstreamsâ ââ âŠâ
With her indolent and gracious beautyâ âSylvia knew that she was displaying indolent and gracious beautyâ âSylvia leaned over the tablecloth listening for items in the terrible indictment that, presently, she was going to bring against Tietjensâ ââ ⊠For the morality of these matters is this:â ââ ⊠If you have an incomparably beautiful woman on your hands you must occupy yourself solely with herâ ââ ⊠Nature exacts that of youâ ââ ⊠until you are unfaithful to her with a snubnosed girl with freckles: that, of course, being a reaction, is still in a way occupying yourself with your woman!â ââ ⊠But to betray her with a battalionâ ââ ⊠That is against decency, against Natureâ ââ ⊠And for him, Christopher Tietjens, to come down to the level of the men you met here!â ââ âŠ
Tietjens, mooning down the room between tables, had more than his usually aloof air since he had just come out of a telephone box. He slipped, a weary mass, into the polished chair between her and the lieutenant. He said:
âIâve got the washing arranged forâ ââ âŠâ and Sylvia gave to herself a little hiss between the teeth, of vindictive pleasure! This was indeed betrayal to a battalion. He added: âI shall have to be up in camp before four-thirty tomorrow morningâ ââ âŠâ
Sylvia could not resist saying:
âIsnât there a poemâ ââ ⊠âAh me, the dawn, the dawn, it comes too soon!ââ ââ ⊠said of course by lovers in bed?â ââ ⊠Who was the poet?â
Cowley went visibly red to the roots of his hair and evidently beyond. Tietjens finished his speech to Cowley, who had remonstrated against his going up to the camp so early by saying that he had not been able to get hold of an officer to march the draft. He then said in his leisurely way:
âThere were a great many poems with that refrain in the Middle Agesâ ââ ⊠You are probably thinking of an albade by
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