'And the third item?' he asked.
Acheson slipped a small square of cardboard across the desk.
'My card, and a standing invitation to visit and stay as long as you
like whenever you are in London.' He stood up and extended his hand.
'Good luck, Sean. And I'd like to think it isn't good, bye.
In a rosy state of elation induced by freedom and the prospect of a
loving farewell with Candy Rautenbach, Sean stopped the cab first at
the railway station to reserve a seat on the following mornings
southbound train, and to cable Ada of his homecomIng . Then, on to
Commissioner Street and the lobby of Candys Hotel to ask for the
proprietress.
'Mrs. Rautenbach is resting, sir, and cannot be disturbed,' the clerk
informed him.
'Good man!' Sean passed him half a guinea and ignored his squawks of
protest as he climbed the marble staircase.
He let himself silently into Candy's suite and crossed to her bedroom.
He wanted to surprise her; and there could be no doubt that he
succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. Candy Rautenbach was not
resting. In fact she was most strenuously employed in the
entertainment of a gentleman whose tunic, hanging over the back of one
of the gilt and red velvet chairs, showed him to be a subaltern in in
one of His Majesty's regiments.
Sean supported his subsequent actions on the hypothesis that Candy was
his exclusive property. In the flood of righteous indignation that
overwhelmed him, he took no account of the fact that his visit was a
farewell gesture, that his relationship with Candy had been at best
vague and intermittent, and that he was the following morning leaving
to propose matrimony to someone else. All he saw was the cuckoo in the
nest.
So that no discredit may reflect on the courage of the subaltern or the
honour of his regiment, we must remember that his knowledge of Candy's
domestic arrangements, if not those of her anatomy, was incomplete. She
had been introduced to him as Mrs. Rautenbach and now in this terrible
moment as he returned to reality he assumed that the large and angry
man who bore down on the bed, roaring like a wounded bull; was the one
and only Mr. Rautenbach come home from the wars. He made preparation
for departure, which began with a rapid descent from the high
four-poster bed on the opposite side to that of Sean's approach.
In a condition of stark mental clarity induced by a super-abundance of
adrenalin in the blood stream, the subaltern became aware of his own
nudity which prevented flight into the public gaze, of the fact that
Mr. Rautenbach's threatening advance made such flight imperative, and
finally that Mr. Rautenbach wore the uniform and insignia of a full
colonel. This last consideration weighed most heavily with him, for
despite his age he came from an old and respected family with an
impressive record of military service and he understood the decencies
and orders of society of which one of the strictest was that you did
not unite with the wife of an officer who outranked you.
Sir, he said, and drew himself up with dignity. I think I can explain.
You little bugger! Sean answered him in a tone that suggested his
