Soldier No More

evidence of which he had seen scattered on Audley's own driveway. In the litany of the man's defects neither Wimpy nor even Oliver St.John Latimer had included intellectual snobbery, but here it was. And yet, even allowing for the envy of a non-seller for a best-seller, it struck an oddly discordant note.

'You missed out, then,' said Bradford. 'Because it wasn't at all bad, minus the purple passages about Ataulf pawing Galla Placidia's heaving bosom, and Constantius putting his hand up her toga.'

'Oh yes?' Audley spread a disparaging glance over Bradford dummy5

and Lexy both. 'As observed through the keyhole by the Right Reverend Sidonius Simplicius, presumably?'

'The New York Times gave it half a page, nearly,' said Bradford. ' 'Scholarship prostituted' was the theme.'

'Scholarship?'

'Apparently.' Bradford nodded. 'It seems that when Miss Palfrey wasn't groping around below the belt she kept a pretty tight hold on her history .... You know, I'm really quite surprised you haven't read it—the Times man said it was a cross between Gone With The Wind and I, Claudius on one side, and Forever Amber and The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire on the other, but I think it had Kipling undertones—not just your children's stuff, but the real McCoy short stories, like Love-o'-Women—'

'Good God!' exclaimed Audley.

'Oh yes—we Visigoths know our Kipling. And a lot better than most of your civilised Limeys, I'd guess. We haven't got your hang-ups about him, for a start.'

'Not mine. I haven't got any hang-ups about Kipling.' Audley was on the defensive, and clearly didn't like it. 'But you seem to know a great deal about this—what's it called?— Princess of the Sunset?'

' In, not of.' The American began to move the bottles again, and then thought better of it and shifted them off the table altogether. 'Goddamn empties—we're running out of booze!

Let's have some more bottles out of the rack, Lex . . . In the dummy5

sunset—the sunset of the Roman Empire—you're damn right I know about it—the book anyway, if not the sunset. That's why I'm here.'

'What d'you mean, Mike?' Jilly passed the corkscrew to Lexy. 'I thought you were here to write?'

'Another Great American Novel,' murmured Audley. 'About how Patton liberated Europe in spite of Monty and me.'

“Shut up, David,' said Jilly. 'Mike?'

'Yes . . . I'm writing—sure. But I also have this little job on the side, for a friend of mine.' Bradford grinned at her. 'A bit of intelligence work, actually.'

Roche forced himself to watch Lexy struggle with the corkscrew.

'Intelligence work?' Stein leaned forward. 'For whom?'

Lexy looked up. 'Just like David, you mean?'

Not at all like David!' said Audley.

'Not you, David— that David—' she nodded towards Roche, and then addressed herself to the cork again '—how the hell does this thing work?'

Indeed?' Audley looked at Roche, whose astonishment had graduated to consternation. 'Intelligence is your line, is it?'

Roche pointed at the corkscrew. 'You screw it the other way, Lexy— clockwise.' He shrugged at Audley, and shook his head, and hoped for the best from the shadows. 'Nothing so romantic, I'm afraid. Just Signals liaison with NATO—

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because I speak fluent French.'

'He jolly well does, too,' agreed Lexy enthusiastically as the cork popped. 'He had La Goutard eating out of the palm of his hand—you should have seen it!'

'Oh . . .' Audley sounded disappointed. 'Jolly good . . .' He turned back towards the American. 'So what's this cloak-and-dagger 'little job' then, Mike? A little something for Washington?'

The American chuckled. 'Washington hell! Hollywood, I mean—'

For a film?' cried Lexy. 'Mike—you didn't tell us! Are you going to make a film of your book? Gosh! Let me fill your glass—then you can discover me. I've always wanted to be discovered—'

'Shut up, Lexy—' Jilly waved her friend down '—it isn't his book, it's got something to do with Princess in the Sunset.

Right, Mike?'

Dead right, Miss Smartpants.'

'Antonia . . . what's-her-name?' Lexy refused to be waved down. 'Wow! Come on—tell us, Mike—'

'He's trying to tell us, if you'd only shut up! They're going to make a film of it?'

'Yeah. . .That is, they've bought it. . . . There are these guys I know in the studio—I was over here with one of them in

'44 . . . and I've done some script advising for them, and they sent me the Princess draft—that's how I know about it—'

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