pipe. Rhoda appeared almost at once in a swishy green dress, her hair smartly combed and curled, her face made up as for a dance.
“Well! Quick-change artistry,” Pug said.
“I hope so. When I got here I looked like the witch in
“Rhoda, I just got a call from Admiral King. He’s at the Department. I’ll ride downtown with Madeline. You go ahead and give Fred his dinner. Maybe I’ll get back in time for coffee, or something. Anyway, I’ll call you when I know what it’s all about.”
The taxi honked outside. Kirby offered to leave too. Victor Henry wouldn’t hear of it. He liked the scientist. He had invited him home partly for company, partly to pump him about uranium. Pug Henry no more imagined anything between this man and Rhoda than he suspected his wife of cannibalism. He prevailed on Kirby to stay, and left with his daughter.
When the outside door closed, Rhoda said brightly, “Well! How long has it been Palmer? An age.”
Kirby sat forward, hands on his knees. “Pug doesn’t know he’s put you in a spot. I’ll be going.”
Rhoda sat composed, legs crossed, arms folded, head atilt. “You’ll waste some good double lamb chops. Can’t you smell them? Dinner’s about ready.”
“Rhoda, I really believe you don’t feel in the least awkward.”
“Oh, Palmer, I take things as they come. I’m very glad to see you, actually. What brings you to Washington anyway?”
“A defense job, about which I can tell you nothing except that it’s going very badly.”
“You mean you’re living here?”
“I have an apartment in the Wardman Park.”
“Well, well. What about your factory?”
“I have excellent managers and foremen. I fly to Denver every two weeks or so. I just got back.” With a sarcastic, one-sided grin he added, “It’s disturbing how well things go on without me.”
“And how is that house of yours?”
“Fine. I didn’t sell it, and now I won’t.”
“Oh? And now, here you are. Funny.”
“‘Funny’ isn’t the word I would choose.”
Rhoda dropped her voice to a soft, intimate note. “Was my letter so very upsetting?”
“It was the worst blow I’ve had since my wife died.”
Rhoda blinked at his rough tone, and sighed. “I’m sorry.” She sat clasping and unclasping her fingers in her lap. Then she tossed head. “I’m trying to think how to tell this so I don’t come out a flibbertigibbet, but to hell with that. I sat next to the President at that White House dinner. He was nice to me. He liked me. He said wonderful things about Pug, about his future career. A divorced man is very handicapped in the service, especially when he’s in sight of flag rank. I’m very aware of that. I’ve seen how it works. And — well, so I did what I did. I’ve slept badly ever since, Palmer, and I’ve been an awful crab. But I’ve stuck to him, and I don’t intend to apologize.”
“Dinner, Miz Henry.” A gray-haired colored woman in a white smock appeared in the doorway, looking sad and reproachful.
“Oh dear. Oh yes. What time is it, Barbara?”
“It’s half past eight now, Miz Henry.”
“That’s awful. I never intended for you to remain this late. Palmer, you’re staying, of course. Just put it on the table, will you Barbara? Then you can go.”
By the time Rhoda Henry and Palmer Kirby had finished off the thick chops, a salad, and a bottle of wine, the tension between them was gone, and he was laughing at her droll stories of troubles with the new house. She was laughing too, though, as she said, at the time the mishaps had put her in wild rages.
“What would you say to another glass of St. Julien with the cheese, Palmer?”
“Rhoda, if he comes home and finds us cracking a second bottle, those eyebrows will go way up, so.”
“Oh, pshaw.” She began clearing dishes. “Many’s the second bottle he and I have cracked. And third ones, on occasion.” She paused, holding a stack of dishes. “I can’t tell you how good I feel. This couldn’t possibly have been planned. But there’s a great weight off my mind.”
Rhoda brought the coffee, and the second bottle, out to the back porch. The rain was over. Beyond the dim trees, in July twilight fading into darkness, a few stars showed.
“Ah! Isn’t this pleasant?” she said. “I think this porch is the reason I wanted the place. It makes me think of the house we had in Berlin.
“This is like a Berlin summer evening,” Kirby said. “The light that lingers on, the fresh smell of rained-on trees—”
She said, “You remember?”
“I have an excellent memory. A little too good.”
“I have a very handy one, Palmer. It tends to remember the good and forget the bad.”
“That is a female memory.” Dr. Kirby gulped his wine with an abrupt motion. “Now let me ask you something, Rhoda. This may really sound offensive. But we may never talk like this again. I’ve had a lot to drink. Much too much, no doubt. Your letter was a bad shock. I’ve thought and thought about this thing ever since. I believed you. I still do. But I have a question to ask you. How come?” After a marked silence, broken only by the chirping of birds, he said, “I’ve made you angry.”
“No.” Rhoda’s voice was throaty and calm. “Of course I know the answer you want — that you were irresistible and there’d never been anyone remotely like you. That’s true enough. Still. I’ve had plenty of chances, dear. And I don’t just mean drunken passes at the officers’ club. There have been times… but to be absolutely honest, these men have all been naval officers like Pug. That’s the circle I move in. Not one has measured up to him, or even come very close.” She was silent for a space. “Don’t take this wrong. I’m not blaming Pug for what happened this time. That would be too low. But he does shut me out so much! And from the moment the war started, that got much worse. Pug’s a fanatic, you know. Not about religion, or politics. About getting things done.”
“That’s an American trait,” said Palmer Kirby. “I’m the same kind of fanatic.”
“Ah, but in Berlin, whether you knew it or not, you were courting me. When Pug courted me, I fell in love with him, too.” She uttered a low chuckle, and added, “Let me say one thing more. Though you, of all people, might give me the horselaugh. I’m a good woman. At least I think I am. So, with one thing and another, there’s been no one else. Nor will there be. I’m a quiet grandma now. That’s that.”
They did not speak for a long time. In the darkness, they were two shadowy shapes, visible only by the dim reflection of unseen streetlamps on the leaves.
“Pug’s never called,” said Rhoda quietly.
The shape of Kirby emerged from the wicker chair, looming tall. “I’ll go now. The dinner was a success. I feel remarkably better. Thanks.”
She said, “Will I see you again?”
“Washington’s a pretty small town. Look at the way I bumped into Pug.”
“Can you find your way out, dear?”
“Certainly.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but to be frank, at the moment my eyes are messy.”
Palmer Kirby came to her, bowed over her hand, and kissed it. She put her other hand over his and gave it a soft lingering pressure.
“My,” she said. “So continental. And very sweet. Straight through the living room, darling, and turn left to the front door.”
Chapter 47
A week later, Victor Henry lay in the upper bunk of an officer’s cabin in the heavy cruiser
