Parade's End

“We can’t keep the general waiting.”

“He told me,” Levin said, “to give you ten minutes. He’s sitting in your hut. He’s tired. This affair has worried him dreadfully. O’Hara is the first C.O. he ever served under. A useful man, too, at his job.”

Tietjens leaned against his dressing-table of meat-cases.

“You told that fellow McKechnie off, all right,” he said. “I did not know you had it in you….”

“Oh,” Levin said, “it’s just being with him…. I get his manner and it does all right. Of course I don’t often hear him have to strafe anybody in that manner. There’s nobody really to stand up to him. Naturally…. But just this morning I was in his cabinet doing private secretary, and he was talking to Pe… Talking while he shaved. And he said exactly that: You can take your choice of going up the line to-night or a court martial!… So naturally I said as near the same as I could to your little friend….”

Tietjens said:

“We’d better go now.”

In the winter sunlight Levin tucked his arm under Tietjens’, leaning towards him gaily and not hurrying. The display was insufferable to Tietjens, but he recognized that it was indispensable. The bright day seemed full of things with hard edges — a rather cruel definiteness…. Liver!…

The little depot adiutant passed them going very fast, as if before a wind. Levin just waved his hand in acknowledgment of his salute and went on, being enraptured in Tietjens’ conversation. He said:

“You and… and Mrs. Tietjens are dining at the general’s to-night. To meet the G.O.C.I.C. Western Division. And General O’Hara…. We understand that you have definitely separated from Mrs. Tietjens….” Tietjens forced his left arm to violence to restrain it from tearing itself from the colonel’s grasp.

His mind had become a coffin-headed, leather-jawed charger, like Schomburg. Sitting on his mind was like sitting on Schomburg at a dull water-jump. His lips said: “Bub-bub-bub-bub!” He could not feel his hands. He said:

“I recognize the necessity. If the general sees it in that way. I saw it in another way myself.” His voice was intensely weary. “No doubt,” he said, “the general knows best!”

Levin’s face exhibited real enthusiasm. He said:

“You decent fellow! You awfully decent fellow! We’re all in the same boat…. Now, will you tell me? For him. Was O’Hara drunk last night or wasn’t he?”

Tietjens said:

“I think he was not drunk when he burst into the room with Major Perowne…. I’ve been thinking about it! I think he became drunk…. When I first requested and then ordered him to leave the room he leant against the doorpost…. He was certainly then — in disorder!… I then told him that I should order him under arrest, if he didn’t go….”

Levin said:

“Mm! Mm! Mm!”

Tietjens said:

“It was my obvious duty…. I assure you that I was perfectly collected…. I beg to assure you that I was perfectly collected….”

Levin said: “I am not questioning the correctness…. But… we are all one family…. I admit the atrocious… the unbearable nature…. But you understand that O’Hara had the right to enter your room…. As P.M.!…”

Tietjens said:

“I am not questioning that it was his right. I was assuring you that I was perfectly collected because the general had honoured me by asking my opinion on the condition of General O’Hara….”

They had by now walked far beyond the line leading to Tietjens’ office and, close together, were looking down upon the great tapestry of the French landscape.

“He,” Levin said, “is anxious for your opinion. It really amounts to as to whether O’Hara drinks too much to continue in his job!… And he says he will take your word…. You could not have a greater testimonial….”

“He could not,” Tietjens said studiedly, “do anything less. Knowing me.”

Levin said:

“Good heavens, old man, you rub it in!” He added quickly: “He wishes me to dispose of this side of the matter. He will take my word and yours. You will forgive…”

The mind of Tietjens had completely failed; the Seine below looked like an S on fire in an opal. He said: “Eh?” And then: “Oh, yes! I forgive…. It’s painful…. You probably don’t know what you are doing.”

He broke off suddenly:

“By God!… Were the Canadian Railway Service to go with my draft? They were detailed to mend the line here to-day. Also to go… I kept them back…. Both orders were dated the same day and hour. I could not get on to headquarters either from the hotel or from here….”

Levin said:

“Yes, that’s all right. He’ll be immensely pleased. He’s going to speak to you about that!” Tietjens gave an immense sigh of relief.

“I remembered that my orders were conflicting just before…. It was a terrible shock to remember…. If I sent them up in the lorries, the repairs to the railway might be delayed…. If I didn’t, you might get strafed to hell…. It was an intolerable worry….”

Levin said:

“You remember it just as you saw the handle of your door moving….”

Tietjens said from a sort of a mist:

“Yes. You know how beastly it is when you suddenly remember you have forgotten something in orders. As if the pit of your stomach had….”

Levin said:

“All I ever thought about if I’d forgotten anything was what would be a good excuse to put up to the adjutant…. When I was a regimental officer…”

Suddenly Tietjens said insistently:

“How did you know that?… About the door handle? Sylvia could not have seen it….” He added: “And she could not have known what I was thinking…. She had her back to the door…. And to me… Looking at me in the glass…. She was not even aware of what had happened…. So she could not have seen the handle move!”

Levin hesitated:

“I…” he said. “Perhaps I ought not to have said that… You’ve told us…. That is to say, you’ve told…” He was pale in the sunlight. He said: “Old man… Perhaps you don’t know…. Didn’t you perhaps ever, in your childhood? …”

Tietjens said:

“Well… what is it?”

“That you talk… when you’re sleeping!” Levin said.

Astonishingly, Tietjens said:

“What of that?… It’s nothing to write home about! With the overwork I’ve had and the sleeplessness…”

Levin said, with a pathetic appeal to Tietjens’ omniscience:

“But doesn’t it mean… We used to say when we were boys… that if you talk in your sleep… you’re… in fact a bit dotty?”

Tietjens said without passion:

“Not necessarily. It means that one has been under mental pressure, but all mental pressure does not drive you over the edge. Not by any means…. Besides, what does it matter?”

Levin said:

“You mean you don’t care…. Good God!” He remained looking at the view, drooping, in intense dejection. He said: “This beastly war! This beastly war!… Look at all that view….”

Tietjens said:

“It’s an encouraging spectacle, really. The beastliness of human nature is always pretty normal. We lie and betray and are wanting in imagination and deceive ourselves, always, at about the same rate. In peace and in war! But, somewhere in that view there are enormous bodies of men…. If you got a still more extended range of view