which Tommies got given the maximum, and here was he bottled up with it for a fortnight. What the hell was he to do? Go forward with the charge or blow his own brains out or what?
On to him thus desperately situated the Arbuthnots descended. They were slight acquaintances, their presence calmed him, and before long his light military guffaw rang out as if nothing had happened. They were pleased to see him, for they were hurriedly forming a group of sahibs1 who would hang together during the voyage and exclude outsiders. With his help the Big Eight came into being, soon to be the envy of less happy passengers; introductions; drinks; jokes; difficulties of securing a berth. At this point Lionel made a shrewd move: everything gets known on a boat and he had better anticipate discovery. 'I got a passage all right,' he brayed, 'but at the cost of sharing my cabin with a wog.'2 All condoled, and Colonel Arbuthnot in the merriest of moods exclaimed, 'Let's hope the blacks don't come off on the sheets,' and Mrs Arbuthnot, wittier still, cried, 'Of course they won't, dear, if it's a wog it'll be the coffees.' Everyone shouted with laughter, the good lady basked in the applause, and Lionel could not understand why he suddenly wanted to throw himself into the sea. It was so unfair, he was the aggrieved party, yet he felt himself in the wrong and almost a cad. If only he had found out the fellow's tastes in England he would never have touched him, no, not with tongs. But could he have found out? You couldn't tell by just looking. Or could you? Dimly, after ten years' forgetfulness, something stirred in that faraway boat of his childhood and he saw his mother . . . Well, she was always objecting to something or other, the poor Mater. No, he couldn't possibly have known.
The Big Eight promptly reserved tables for lunch and all future meals, and Cocoanut and his set were relegated to a second sitting?for it became evident that he too was in a set: the tagrag and coloured bobtail3 stuff that accumulates in corners and titters and whispers, and may well be influential, but who cares?
7. Officer in charge of enforcing discipline on a 1. Respectful term for Europeans in colonial ship. India. 8. Ship's officer who keeps accounts and manages 2. Offensive term for a foreign person of color. provisions. 3. 'Tagrag and bobtail' is another version of 'rag, 9. Upper edge of a ship's side. tag, and bobtail,' meaning the riffraff, or rabble.
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THE OTHER BOAT / 2067
Lionel regarded it with distaste and looked for a touch of the hangdog4 in his unspeakable cabin-mate, but he was skipping and gibbering on the promenade deck as if nothing had occurred. He himself was safe for the moment, eating curry by the side of Lady Manning, and amusing her by his joke about the various names which the cook would give the same curry on successive days. Again something stabbed him and he thought: 'But what shall I do, do, when night comes? There will have to be some sort of showdown.' After lunch the weather deteriorated. England said farewell to her children with her choppiest seas, her gustiest winds, and the banging of invisible pots and pans in the empyrean.5 Lady Manning thought she might do better in a deckchair. He squired her to it and then collapsed and re-entered his cabin as rapidly as he had left it a couple of hours earlier.
It now seemed full of darkies, who rose to their feet as he retched,6 assisted him up to his berth and loosened his collar, after which the gong summoned them to their lunch. Presently Cocoanut and his elderly Parsee7 secretary looked in to inquire and were civil and helpful and he could not but thank them. The showdown must be postponed. Later in the day he felt better and less inclined for it, and the night did not bring its dreaded perils or indeed anything at all. It was almost as if nothing had happened?almost but not quite. Master Cocoanut had learned his lesson, for he pestered no more, yet he skilfully implied that the lesson was an unimportant one. He was like someone who has been refused a loan and indicates that he will not apply again. He seemed positively not to mind his disgrace?incomprehensibly to Lionel, who expected either repentance or terror. Could it be that he himself had made too much fuss?
In this uneventful atmosphere the voyage across the Bay of Biscay8 proceeded. It was clear that his favours would not again be asked, and he could not help wondering what would have happened if he had granted them. Propriety was re-established, almost monotonously; if he and Cocoanut ever overlapped in the cabin and had to settle (for instance) who should wash first, they solved the problem with mutual tact.
And then the ship entered the Mediterranean.
Resistance weakened under the balmier sky, curiosity increased. It was an exquisite afternoon?their first decent weather. Cocoanut was leaning out of the porthole to see the sunlit rock of Gibraltar.9 Lionel leant against him to look too and permitted a slight, a very slight familiarity with his person. The ship did not sink nor did the heavens fall. The contact started something whirling about inside his head and all over him, he could not concentrate on after-dinner bridge, he felt excited, frightened and powerful all at once and kept looking at the stars. Cocoa, who said weird things sometimes, declared that the stars were moving into a good place and could be kept there.
That night champagne appeared in the cabin, and he was seduced. He never could resist champagne. Curse, oh curse! How on earth had it happened? Never again. More happened off the coast of Sicily, more, much more at Port Said, and here in the Red Sea they slept together as a matter of course.
4. Sneaky or despicable person. 8. Arm of the Atlantic bordered by the west coast 5. Sky. of France and the north coast of Spain. 6. Stretched. 9. Limestone promontory at the southern tip of 7. Indian follower of Zoroastrianism, an ancient Spain. religion originating in Iran.
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2068 / E.M. FORSTER
IV
And this particular night they lay motionless for longer than usual, as though something in the fall of their bodies had enchanted them. They had never been so content with each other before, and only one of them realized that nothing lasts, that they might be more happy or less happy in the future, but would never again be exactly thus. He tried not to stir, not to breathe, not to live even, but life was too strong for him and he sighed.
All right?' whispered Lionel.
?Yes.' 'Did I hurt?' 'Yes.' 'Sorry.' 'Why?' 'Can I have a drink?' 'You can have the whole world.' 'Lie still and I'll get you one too, not that you deserve it after making such a noise.'
'Was I again a noise?'
'You were indeed. Never mind, you shall have a nice drink.' Half Ganymede, half Goth,' he jerked a bottle out of the ice-bucket. Pop went a cork and hit the partition wall. Sounds of feminine protest became audible, and they both laughed. 'Here, hurry up, scuttle up and drink.' He offered the goblet, received it back, drained it, refilled. His eyes shone, any depths through which he might have passed were forgotten. 'Let's make a night of it,' he suggested. For he was of the conventional type who once the conventions are broken breaks them into little pieces, and for an hour or two there was nothing he wouldn't say or do.
