dead fingers a wide Terai hat and placed it over his face.
Then he straightened and asked: 'Who claims him?' Unless a friend or a
kinsman claimed the corpse it would be buried in a communal grave.
Jan Paulus stood up and walked across to stand over the body.
He lifted the hat and replaced it with the homburg from his own head.
'Ja. I claim him,' he said heavily.
'Is he kin or friend, Oom Paul?'
'He is a friend.'
'What is his name?'
'I do not know his name. He is just a friend.
Saul Friedman fidgeted impatiently. In his eagerness he had arrived
half an hour before visiting-time began and for this he was doing
penance in the bleak little waiting-room of Greys Hospital. He sat
forward on the straight-backed chair, twisted his helmet between his
fingers and stared at the large sign on the opposite wall.
'Gentlemen are requested Not to smoke.'
He had asked Ruth to come with him, but she had pleaded a headache. In
a sneaking fashion Saul was glad. He knew that her presence would
inhibit his reunion with Sean Courtney. He didn't want polite
conversation about the weather and how was he feeling now, and he must
come round to dinner some evening. It would have been difficult not to
be able to swear if they wanted-it would have been even more difficult
in view of Ruths attitude.
Yesterday, the first day of his leave, he had spoken of Sean with
enthusiasm. How many times had she visited him? How was he? Did he
Did he limp badly? Didn't Ruth think he was a wonderful person? Twice
she replied and, well, no not badly, yes he was very nice. Just about
then Saul perceived the truth. Ruth did not like Sean. At first he
could hardly believe it. He tried to continue the conversation. But
each of her monosyllabic replies confirmed his first suspicion. Of
course, she had not said so, but it was so obvious. For some reason
she had taken a dislike to Sean which was close to loathing.
Now Saul sat and pondered the reason. He discounted the possibility
that Sean had offended her. If that were the case Sean would have
received as good as he gave and afterwards Ruth would have related the
whole tale with glee and relish.
No, Saul decided, it was something else. Like a swimmer about to dive
into icy water, Saul drew a metaphorical deep breath and plunged into
the uncharted sea of feminine thought processes. Was Sean's
masculinity so overpowering as to be offensive? Had his attention to
her been below average (Ruth was accustomed to extravagant reactions to
her beauty)? Could it be that. . . ? Or, on the other hand, did
Sean. . . ? Saul was floundering heavily when suddenly, as a
shipwrecked victim surfacing for the last time finds a tall ship close
alongside with lifeboats being lowered from every derrick, the solution
came to him.
Ruth was jealous!
Saul leaned back in the chair, astounded at the depth of his own
perception.
