He said:
“They say you’re receiving for Tietjens! Who’d have thought it? you a pro-German and he such a sound Tory. Squire of Groby and all, eh what?”
He said:
“Know Groby?” He squinted through his glasses round the room. “Looks like a mess this … Only needs the Vie Parisienne and the Pink Un. … Suppose he has moved his stuff to Groby. He’ll be going to live at Groby, now. The war’s over!”
He said:
“But you and old Tory Tietjens in the same room … By Jove the war’s over. … The lion lying down with the lamb’s nothing. …” He exclaimed “Oh damn! Oh, damn, damn, damn. … I say … I didn’t mean it. … Don’t cry. My dear little girl. My dear Miss Wannop. One of the best I always thought you. You don’t suppose. …”
She said:
“I’m crying because of Groby. … It’s a day to cry on anyhow. … You’re quite a good sort, really!”
He said:
“Thank you! Thank you! Drink some more port! He’s a good fat old beggar, old Tietjens. A good officer!” He added: “Drink a lot more port!”
He had been the most asinine, creaking, “what about your king and country,” shocked, outraged and speechless creature of all the many who for years had objected to her objecting to men being unable to stand up. … Now he was a rather kind brother!
They were all yelling.
“Good old Tietjens! Good old Fat Man! Prewar Hooch! He’d be the one to get it.” No one like Fat Man Tietjens! He lounged at the door; easy; benevolent. In uniform now. That was better. An officer, yelling like an enraged Redskin dealt him an immense blow behind the shoulder blades. He staggered, smiling into the centre of the room. An officer gently pushed her into the centre of the room. She was against him. Khaki encircled them. They began to yell and to prance, joining hands. Others waved the bottles and smashed underfoot the glasses. Gipsies break glasses at their weddings. The bed was against the wall. She did not like the bed to be against the wall. It had been brushed by. …
They were going round them: yelling in unison:
“Over here! Pom Pom Over here! Pom Pom!
That’s the word that’s the word; Over here. …”
At least they weren’t over there! They were prancing. The whole world round them was yelling and prancing round. They were the centre of unending roaring circles. The man with the eyeglass had stuck a half-crown in his other eye. He was well-meaning. A brother. She had a brother with the V.C. All in the family.
Tietjens was stretching out his two hands from the waist. It was incomprehensible. His right hand was behind her back, his left in her right hand. She was frightened. She was amazed. Did you ever! He was swaying slowly. The elephant! They were dancing! Aranjuez was hanging on to the tall woman like a kid on a telegraph pole. The officer who had said he had picked up a little bit of fluff … well, he had! He had run out and fetched it. It wore white cotton gloves and a flowered hat. It said: “Ow! Now!” … There was a fellow with a most beautiful voice. He led: better than a gramophone. Better. …
Les petites marionettes, font! font! font …
On an elephant. A dear, meal-sack elephant. She was setting out on. …
Colophon
A Man Could Stand Up—
was published in 1926 by
Ford Madox Ford.
This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Alex Cabal,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2014 by
Delphine Lettau, Alex White, and The Online Distributed Proofreaders Canada Team
for
Faded Page Canada
and on digital scans available at
Google Books.
The cover page is adapted from
The Power of Music,
a painting completed in 1919 by
Gilbert Gaul.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
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The first edition of this ebook was released on
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Uncopyright
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