Mom said you were somewhere at sea. Have you been detached from War Plans, Dad?" "No, this was a temporary thing. I'm heading back now. I was visiting the TexasI saw the S45 on the yard roster74 and thought I'd look in." Victor Henry scanned his son's thin face. "Well? How goes it?" "Oh, first-rate. Swell75 bunch of guys on this boat. The skipper is 4-0, and the exec, I'd really like you to meet him. Lieutenant Aster54. He was a witness at my wedding." Byron grinned the old half-melancholy76, halfamused grin that never failed to charm Pug Henry, and most other people. "I'm glad to see you. I'm lonesome." "What's your wife's situation? Is she on her way home yet?" Byron gave his father a veild glance that hinted at his standing62 grudge77 about Natalie. But he was in a good mood and responded amiably78. "I don't know. We got in this morning from maneuvers79. The yeoman just went for the mail." Pug Put down his cup. "Incidentally, will your boat be in port on the twenty-sixth?" 4( I can find out. Why?" "Nothing much. just if you are, and if you can get overnight leave, You're invited to dinner at the White House." Byron's deep-set eyes opened wide. "Cut it out, Dad." "Your mother and Madeline, too. I don't guess Warren can fly in from Pearl Harbor. But if you're around, you might as well come. Something to tell your children about." "Dad, how do we rate?" Victor Henry shrugged80. "Oh, a carrot for the donkey. Your mother doesn't know about it yet." "No? Dinner at the White House! Mom will go clear through the overhead." Lieutenant Aster, carrying a basket of mail, poked81 his head into the wardroom. "Briny, Carson's got a fistful of letters for you at the gangway. ) "Hey. Good enough. This is my exec, Dad, Lieutenant Carter Aster. Be right back." Byron vanished. Seating himself at the narrow wardroom table and slitting82 envelopes with an Indian paper cutter, Aster said, "Excuse me, sir. Priority mail." "Go ahead." Victor Henry studied the blond officer as he attacked the letters. One couldsometimes guess, by the way a young man went at papers or a book, the kind of officer he was. Aster traversed the pile fast, scribbling83 a note here and a checkmark there. He looked good. He pushed the basket aside and poured coffee for himself when Henry held up a hand to decline. 'Lieutenant, you were a witness at Briny's wedding?" "Yes, sir. She's a wonderful girl." "How's Briny doing?" Aster's jolly reminiscent smile disappeared. The wide mouth became a slash85 of tight lips. 'In his work?" "Yes, let me have it straight." "Well, we all like him. There's something about Briny, I guess you know that. But for submarines... don't get the idea that he can't measure up. He can, but he won't bother. Briny just slides along the bottom edge of tolerable performance." Victor Henry was not surprised; still, the words hurt. "People run true to form, I guess." "He's way behind on his officer qualification book. Now he knows his way around the boat, sir, he knows the engines, the compressed air system, the batteries, all that. He stands a good diving watch. He has a knack86 for trimming the boat and keeping her at the depth the captain wants. But when it comes to writing reports on time, or even logs, keeping track of records and dispatches and the crew's training books-an officer's main work-forget it." Aster looked Byron's father in the eye. "The skipper sometimes talks of beaching him." Victor Henry said sadly, "That bad?" "In a way he's kind of nuts, too." "How, nuts?" "Well, like last week, we had this surprise inspector87 aboard. We fired this dummy88 torpedo89 and surfaced to recover it. We hadn't tried a recox,ery for a long time. It was a rough sea, raining, cold as hell. The torpedo detail was out there trying to retrieve90 the thing. It was bobbing up and down, banging and crashing against the hull45, and we were rolling like mad, and the sailors were slipping around with lifelines tied to them. It was awful. They messed about for an hour and couldn't hook that fish. I was sure somebody would get drovrned or crushed. The inspector got tired and went below. The skipper was exploding. The deck gang was soaked and frozen and falling all over itself. Well, as you know, a dummy warhead's hollow, and the fish floats straight up and down. Briny was the officer on that detail.
Suddenly he took the hook, stuck it in his lifeline, and by Christ if he didn't go and jump on that torpedo! He timed it so right, it looked easy. He hung on, with these icy waves breaking over him, riding that yellow steel dummy head like a goddamn bronco. He secured the hook and then got knocked off. Well, we hauled him in half-dead and then we hoisted91 the fish aboard. The skipper filled him full of medicinal brandy. He slept eighteen hours and was fine." Victor Henry said, clearing his throat, "He took a stupid chance." "Sir, I'd like to have him on any boat I ever command. But I'd expect to wear out two pairs of heavy shoes, kicking his ass14 for him." "If the occasion arises, let me buy you the brogans, Lieutenant," said Pug. "She's pregnant!" Byron catapulted into the little wardroom, arresting himself by grabbing the doorway. "Natalie's pregnant, Dad." He brandished92 torn-open letters. "How about that? Hey, Lady, how about that? Boy, I feel strange." "Fast work," said Aster. "You better get that gal39 home for sure, now. Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Excuse me." The executive officer slid out from behind the table with his mail basket. "Any news on her coming home?" Victor Henry asked. "She says Leslie Slote really built a fire under the consuls93 this time. She and Jastrow should be on their way by-well, maybe by now! She'd better be, or I'll desert and go fetch her, Dad. My kid's going to be born in the United States." "That's great news, Briny. Great." Victor Henry stood, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "I've got a plane to catch. You'll find out about the twenty-sixth, won't you? And let me know." "The what? Oh, yes." Byron was sitting with his chin on both fists, reading a closely written airmail sheet, his face lit up with happiness. "That dinner, Yes, sir, I'll telephone you or soriiething." "I'm sure you have a load of paperwork, after your maneuvers. Get at it, boy." "Oh, sure," said Byron. "So long, Dad." "I'm happy about your wife, Byron."Again the veiled glance, again the amiable94 tone. "Thanks." Rhoda was in bad turmoil95. Palmer Kirby had returned from England in April, while Pug was at sea. The cherry blossoms were early that year; and in Virginia and North Carolina, where they went four-day drive like honeymoon96, the countryside was Hooded97 with fragrant98 blossoms(on) .R(a) hodacamebacktoW(a) asbirigton committed in the strongest terms to leave her husband and to marry Kirby. The decision seemed clear, simple, and natural to Rhoda in the bedrooms of wayside hotels, and on long walks amid the peach and plum blossoms of the southland. But when Kirby went happily off to Denver to put the big old house in order for a new life, leaving her in a home full of Henry photographs and mementos99, the simplicity100 of the vision, and some of its charm, started to fade. Rhoda's inexperience was misleading her. An investment of more than twenty-five years of love and intimacy-even if it has gone slightly sour-usually should not be liquidated101. Its equivalent in romance, in thrills, or even money, can seldom be recovered. So hard-beaded bad women tend to decide. Rhoda's trouble was that, in her own mind, she was still a good woman, caught up in a grand passion which consumed all moral law. One misstep during her husband's long absence in Germanyat an age when many men and women make missteps-had led to another and another. Her desire to keep her good opinion of herself had completed her confusion. She still liked-perhaps loved-and also feared Pug, but his career was a growing disappointment. For a while she had hoped that his "in" with President Roosevelt might lead to big things, but that was not happening. Some of her friends were preening102 their husbands' new commands: battleships, destroyer flotillas, cruisers. Therivalryof(over) Digger Brown, Paul Munson, and Harry103 Warendorf was exactly paralleled among their ladies. Rhoda Henry was becoming the wife of a man bogged104 in twilit shore jobs after more than twenty years of racing105 along with the front-runners Evidently Pug didn't have it. This was bitter medicine for Rhoda. She had always hoped that he would some day become at least a Deputy Chief of Naval Operations. After all, she had preferred him to fellows who had since gone on to careers like bank president, steel executive, army general. (These men had not necessarily proposed; if she had dated and kissed them, she considered them possibilities sacrificed for Pug.) Now it seemed he might not even make rear admiral! Certainly that limited goal was receding106 with every month he spent in a Navy Department cubicle107 while his competitors accumulated command time at sea. With such thoughts Rhoda Henry was working herself up to tell Pug that she had fallen in love with another man. But she did not look forward with dewy pleasure to this, and she teetered, ready to be pushed either way. She missed his return from the convoy trip. He had not telephoned from Norfolk, for he knew that she liked to sleep late. Arriving by airplane in Washington, he found the house empty, cook off, Rhoda out, mail overflowing108 his desk, no coffee. He couldn't blame anybody, but it was a cold homecoming.
At the War Plans office, by chance, he encountered Pamela Tudsbury. She had not gone back to England with Burne-Wilke. Secretaries cleared for Very Secret rare, so the British Purchasing Council had requisitioned her for a while. Spry,springy(were) , refreshingly109 unmilitary in a yellow and green cotton frock, Pamela greeted him with the warmth he had not found at home. He asked her to lunch with him in the Navy cafeteria. During the quarter hour it took to bolt a sandmich, pie, and coffee, Pamela spoke of her unhappiness at being left behind by BurneWilke. "I want to be there now," she said, eyes somewhat moist. "Not that I really think the end is at hand, as some do. But in the wee hours, one does begin to picture how one accommodates to German military police and street signs. It's a nightmare that now and then gets terribly real." She shook her head and smiled. "Of course it's darkest before the dawn. You poor man. You've got a splendid color. The sea so obviously agrees with you. You look ten years younger. I hope it lasts, or that you get back to sea.py "Well, I've tried to walk a lot and play tennis. It isn't the same." "Of course not." He asked her for further news of Ted7 Gallard, but there was none. They parted with a casual good-bye. All the rest of the day, plowing110 through the mound111 of accumulated paper, Victor Henry felt much better. Rhoda was waiting for him at home in a bright red dress, with ice and drink mixes ready, and cheese and crackers112 out. Her manner and conversation struck him as strange. She gabbled about houses. She was so eager to talk, so voluble, that he had no chance at first to tell her of the White House invitation. Early that afternoon, finding Pug's note on her dressing113 table, she had rushed out with an agent and visited three. All her suppressed guilt114 feelings focussed on the house business. If only she could convince Pug that gbe had been diligently115 looking at houses, she felt her tracks would be covered. This made no sense. She was planning to break the news to him. She acted on nervous instinct, triggered by the short scrawl in Pug's handwriting: He's back. Man the bar. Pug was uninterested in a verbose116 account of faiats in houses he had never seen. But be put up with it. Next, Rhoda chattered117 on that sore topic, recent promotions118: that utter fool, chaser, and drunk, Chipper Pennington, had gotten the Heicna; and did Pug know that even Bill Foley was now commanding a destroyer squadron at Pearl Harbor? Pug broke in on Rhoda's flow of words-this was at dinner, over the meat -to tell her of the President's invitation. Her mouth fell open. "Pug! Really?" She asked many questions, worried out loud over what she would wear, and gloatedabout how Annette Pennington and Tammy Foley would feel when they heard thisi It was a bad performance. He was seeing her at her very worstworse than her worst, for she had never been quite so demoralized, though she looked extremely pretty and her wonderful skin glowed smooth as ever. Pug found himself looking at his wife detachedly, as he judged professional matters. Few wives in their forties can weather such a scrutiny119. That night Victor Henry recognized familiar signals that he was not, for the time being, welcome in her bedroom. He did not know why; but he had long ago decided120 that Rhoda was entitled to these.spells, physical or mental, though it seemed too bad after his six weeks at sea. It took him a long time to fall asleep. He kept thinking of the callous121 happy-golucky mood he had found in the capital, the sense that by passing the Lend-Lease Bill, America had done its bit to stamp out Nazism123. Nobody appeared to care how much stuff was actually being produced and shipped. The figures at War Plans had appalled125 him. Conflicting boards and agencies, contradictory126 directives, overlapping127 demands by the Air Corps128, the Navy, the Army, and the British had overwhelmed the program. Under an amazing welter of meetings, talk, and mimeographed releases, LendLease was paralyzed. He kept thinking, too, of the contrasts between his wife and the English girl. At last he got up and swallowed a stiff drink of bourbon like a pili. Pig cheered up later in the week, as most people did, when Hitler's deputy Fuhrer, the black-brewed fanatic129 Rudolf Hess, made a solo flight to Scotland, landed by parachute, and demanded to see Winston Churchill. For a day or two it seemed that Germany might be cracking. But the Nazis124 at once announced that Hess, through heroic overwork, had gone off his head. The British said little publicly. Pug heard from Pamela, who had it from the embassy, that in fact Hess, mad as a hatter, was shut up in a sanatorium, drivelling peace plans. Certainly in the war news there was no sign of German weakness. They were bagging hordes130 of British prisoners and mountains of arms in Greece, sinking ships in the Atlantic at a great rate, showering London and Liverpool with fire-bombings worse than any during the 1940 blitz, laying siege to Tobruk, and launching a breathtaking airborne invasion of Crete, over the heads of the British Mediterranean fleet. This outpouring of military energy to all points of the compass, this lava131 flow of violence, was awesome132. In the face of it, Vichy France was folding up and negotiating a deal with the Nazis that would hand over North Africa to them, and perhaps the strong French fleet too. This was a brutal133 bloody134 nose for American diplomats135 trying to hold France neutral, and keep the Germans out of the African bulge136 at French Dakar, which dominated the whole south Atlantic. The Nazis appeared unstoppable. The entrenched137, heavily armed British on Crete claimed to be butchering the sky invaders138. But floating to earth dead or alive in their parachute harnesses,crashing in gliders139, on the airborne multitudes came. The confident British communiques grew vaguer. Somehow, they conceded, the Germans at incredible cost had managed to capture one airfield140; then one more. It soon became clear that Hitler was doing a new thing in Crete, taking a strong island from the air without sea power, in fact in the teeth of sea power. This was threatening news for England. Aside from the heavy defeat itself, Crete began to look like a dress rehearsal142 for the end. And still the United States did nothing. In the inner War Plans circles, a split was widening between the Army and the Navy. Victor Henry's section wanted strong fast moves in the North Atlantic to save England: convoys143, the occupation of keland, shipment of all possible arms. But the Army, which now gave England only three months before collapse144, preferred a move into Brazil and the Azores, to face the expected Nazi122 thrust in the south Atlantic from Dakar. Between these two plans, the President was stalling and hesitating. Then came the scarifying news that the Bismarck, a new German battleship, had blown up England's mighty145 war vessel2, the Hood, off Greenland, with a single salvo at thirteen miles, and vanished into the north Atlantic mists! This jolted146 the country out of its Maytime languor147. The President announced a major radio address. Speculations148 about the speech filled the press and radio. Would he proclaim the start of convoying? Would he ask Congress to declare war? The brawny149 feat141 of the Bismarck seemed to show Hitler achieving mastery of the oceans as well as the land and the air. The shift of the power balance in the Atlantic was suddenly self-evident and frightful150. Rhoda's reaction to all this heavy news was loud frantic151 fretting152 that the White House would call off the dinner invitation, after she had told all her friends about it. FDR was probably getting ready to go to war. How could he bother with a social dinner, especially with unimportant people like themselves? Victor Henry, to secure some peace, checked with the President's naval aide. The invitation to the White House stood. "What do you think, Dad? Will the Limeys get the Bismarck?" Perched on the edge of the bathtub, Byron observed that Victor Henry still liked to rest one leg on the tub as he shaved. Nor had Pug's shaving motions ever changed, the successive scrape of cheeks, chin, and neck, then the scowl153 to stretch his upper lip. Byron had sat exactly so as a child countless154 times, talking to his dad. "Well, Briny, they claim the Prince of Wales winged her off Greenland there. But those Germans have fine damage control. I've been aboard the Bismarck. She's a floating steel honeycomb. If they were hit, they probably just buttoned up the flooded compartments155 and lit out for home. The British are throwing everything into their search. To hell with conVOYS, to hell with the Mediterranean! They know where she's headingthe French coast, as fast as she can skedaddleand they know the speed she can make. Aircraft ought to find her. Unless"-he rinsed156 his razor and shook it-'unless the Bismarck is undamaged. In which case heaven help any convoys she runs across. With that fire control she displayed, she'll pick off forty ships in half an hour." "I wish I were out there," said Byron, 'in that search." "Do you?" Pug gave his son a pleased look. Where Byron saw much the same father, Victor Henry saw a pallid157, melancholy, thin-faced little boy transformed into a spruce six-foot ensign in blue and gold. Pug wiped his face with a wet towel. "What time is it? Let's make tracks." Byron followed him into his dressing room. "Say, Dad, you're pretty close to the President, aren't you?" Buttoning his dress shirt, Pug said, "Close? Nobody's really close to Mr. Roosevelt, that I can see. Except maybe this Harry Hopkins." Byron crouched158 on a stool, watching his father dress. "I got two more letters from Natalie yesterday. She's stuck, after all." Pug frowned at the mirror over his bureau. "Now what?" "Same thing, Dad, this balled-up foolishness about when her uncle's father was naturalized. He just cantt get that passport renewed. One official makes promises, and the next one fudges on them. The thing goes round and round." "Tell You wife to come home, and let him sweat it out." "Let me finish, Dad." Byron waved both hands. 'It was all set, they'd even bought steamship159 tickets. Some formality of approval from Washington just never came through. Natalie had to Turn back the boat tickets. Dad, they're ringed by Germans now. Germans in France, Yugoslavia, Greece, North Africa, and for that matter all through Italy. They're a couple of Jews." 'I'm aware of that," said Victor Henry. Rhoda's voice called from the bedroom, "Pug, will you come here I'm going out of my mind." He found her glaring at the full-length closet mirror, in a tight blue silk dress, the back of which hung Open, displaying underwear and an expanse of rosy160 skin. "Hook me up. Look how my stomach is bulging161," she said. "Now why is that? The stupid dress didn't look the least bit like this in the store. It looked fine." "You're not bulging," said Victor Henry, trying to fix the snaps despite the poor light on her back. "You look very pretty." "Oh, Pug, for God's sake. I'm bulging POOr. I look six months pregnant. I'm horrible. And I'm wearing my tightest girdle. Oh, what'll I do?"Her husband finished closing the snaps and left her. Rhoda looked much the same as always, and was making much the usual evening-dress noises. Her laments162 and queries163 were rhetorical, and best ignored. Byron still crouched on the stool. "Dad, I thought you might mention this thing to the President." Victor Henry's response was quick and curt164. "That's an unreasonable165 notion." Heavy silence. Byron slumped166 down, elbows on knees, hands clasped. Pug was jarred by the hostility167, almost the hatred168, on his son's face. "Byron, I don't think your wife's uncle's citizenship169 mess is a suitable problem to submit to the President of the United States. That's all." "Oh, I knew you wouldn't do it. You're sore at me for marrying a Jew, you always have becti, and you don't care what happens to her." Rhoda marched in, pulling on gloves. "For heaven's sake, what are you two jawing170 about? Pug, will you put on your jacket and come along?" On the Pennsylvania Avenue side of the White House, the Henrys passed several dozen pickets171, marching with antiwar signs in a ragged oval, and chanting, 'The Yanks are not coming!" Near them a handful of men sauntered in sandwich boards that read: THE AMERICAN PEACE MOBILIZATION IS A COMMUNIST FRONT. Two yawning policemen kept watch on this tranquil172 agitation173. "Good evening." A tall Negro in a colorful uniform opened the door, sounding-at least to Rhoda-like the basso in The Magic Flute174. The Henrys stepped from a warm May night, sweet with the scent84 of the White House lawns and flowers, into a broad dazzling marble-floored foyer. A middle-aged33 man in a dinner jacket stood by the presidential seal inlaid in brass176 in the floor. He introduced himself as the chief usher177. "Mrs. Henry, you will be sitting on the President's left," he said, glancing at a large card. "You see, Crown Princess Marta of Norway is a houseguest. She will sit on his right." "Oh, yes, yes, oh my. Princess Marta? Well, she ranks me all right," said Rhoda with a nervous giggle178. "I guess we're early," Victor Henry said. "Not at all. Please come this way." He left them in the large public room called the Red Room, saying they would go upstairs soon.
"Oh, dear, think of Warren missing all this!" Rhoda peered at the paintings of Presidents hung near the high ceilings, and the elegant redupholstered furniture. "Him, with his love of American history." "That's just it," Madeline said, looking around with bright snapping eyes. She wore a long-sleeved black silk dress buttoned to the throat, quite a contrast to her mother's bared arms and bosom179. "It's like walking into a history book." "I wonder if it's okay to smoke," Byron said. "No, no, don't," his mother said. Pug said, "Why not? There are ashtrays180 all around. This is a house. You know what the White House is really like?" He too was nervous, and talking to cover it. "Commandant's quarters on a base. The big fancy house with stewards181 that the boss man gets to live in. This one is the biggest and fanciest. just the cumshaw of becoming Number One." "But the thought of actually keeping house here!" said Rhoda. Despite themselves they were all speaking in uxinatural voices, hushed or too loud. "Even with an army of servants, I'd go mad. I can't imagine how she does it, especially traipsing around the country the way she does. Byron, watch those ashes, for heaven's sake." "May I present Mr. Sumner Welles?" The chief usher led in a bald lean gloomy man. ",And I believe we can go upstairs now," he added, as the Undersecretary of State shook hands with the Henrys. An elevator took them up. Behind his desk at one end of an enormous yellow room hung with sea paintings sat the President, rattling183 a cocktail184 shaker. "Hello there, just in time for the first round!" he called, a big grin lighting185 up the jowly pink face. His voice had a clear virile186 ring. He wore a black tie and dinner jacket with a soft white shirt; and when Pug leaned across the desk to take drinks, he noticed the brown trousers of a business suit. "I hope Mrs. Henry likes Orange Blossoms, Pug. That's what I'm mixing. Good evening, Sumner." The President gave all the Henrys firm moist handshakes, cold from the shaker. "How about you, Sumner? Would you prefer something else? I make a fair martini, you know." "Thank you, sir. That looks just right." In the center of the room at the mantel, Eleanor Roosevelt stood drinking cocktails187 with a tallblack-haired woman and a sharp-faced, aged little man. On either side of them warm breezes stirred the lace curtains of open windows, bringing in a heavy sweet smell of flowers. The usher introduced the Henrys to Mrs. Roosevelt, to Princess Marta, and to Mr. Somerset Maugham. When Rhoda heard the author's name, her stiff manner broke. "Oh my! Mr. Maugham! What a surprise. This may be very bad form, but i've read all your books and I love them." The author exhaled188 cigarette smoke and stammered190, "That-that's charming of you," moxing only his thin scowling191 lips, his aged gloomy eyes remaining cold and steady. "Well, we're all here. Why don't we sit?" The President's wife moTed a chair near the desk, and the men at once did the same, all except for Somerset Maugham, who sat in a chair Byron put down. "Anything very new on the Bismarck, Sumner?" said the President. "Not since about five o'clock, sir." "Oh, I've talked to Averell in London since then. The connection was abominable192, but I gathered there was no real news. What do you say, Pug? Will they get her?" "It's a tough exercise, Mr. President. Mighty big ocean, mighty bad weather." "You should know," said Franklin Roosevelt slyly. 'But if they winged her, as they claim," Pug went on, "they ought to catch her." "Oh, they hit the Bismarck. Their cruisers followed a trail of oil far into the fog. That's straight from Churchill. Harriman's his houseguest." Rhoda was trying not to stare at Crown Princess Marta, who, she thought, held a c il glass like a sceptre. Unconsciously imitating her posture193, Rhoda decided that her skin was almost as good as Marta's, though the princess was younger and had such rich black hair, done up in a funny way. Contemplating194 royalty195, she lost track of the war talk, and was a little startled when everybody rose. They left the President and followed Mrs. Roosevelt to the elevator. When they arrived in the dining room, there sat Franklin Roosevelt, already whisked to his place at the head of the table. Here too, strong flower scent drifted through the open windows, mingling196 with the smell of a big silver bowl of carnations197, the table centerpiece. "Well, I had a good day!" the President exclaimed as they sat down, with the obvious intent of putting everybody at ease. "The Ford198 Company finally promised Bill Knudsen to make liberators in their huge new plant. We've been sweating over that one. The business people seem to be waking up at last" He started on his soup, and everyone else began to eat. "We want to put out five hundred heavy bombers199 a month by next fall, and this will do it. Mr. Maugbam, there's good news to pass on!
By next fall, we'll be making five hundred heavy bombers a month. That's hard intelligence." 'Mr. President, the-hard intelligence is"-Maugham's stammer189 caught everybody's attention, so they hung on his words-"that you s-say you'll be making them." The President was smiling before the author got the words out; then be roared with laughter. This houseguest was privileged to make jokes, Pug saw. 'Mr. Maugham was a British spy in the last war, Pug," Roosevelt said across the table. 'y, he even wrote a spy novel. Ashenden. Watch out what you say here. It'll get right back to Churchill." "Mr. President, you know a houseguest would never do that. I am not a ferret now, I assure you, but a lower form of life. A-a-a sponge." Mrs. Roosevelt said cheerily, amid the laughter, 'What else happened, Franklin, to make it a good day?" "My, the fellows finally finished the umteenth draft of my big speech. It looks pretty good, pretty good. So I let them have coffee and sandwiches, and now they're locked up downstairs doing draft umteenplus-one. What's the betting now, Sumner? Am I going to ask for war, or proclaim convoying, or what? Why, the suspense200 is even getting me." The President laughed and added, "Mr. Maugham, as a great writer have you no ideas for my speech? War? Convoy? Or some real new inspiration?" "Mr. President, you r-remember your Oliver Twist? 'Please, sir, I w-want some more'?" "Of course," said the President, his close-set, clever eyes twinkling in anticipation201 of a joke. "Well, p-please, sir," said the author with a dead serious face, "I w-vant some w-war." The whole table broke into laughter. "Ha ha ha! Spoken like a true British agent!" said the President, gaining another general laugh. Uniformed waiters cleared the table for the next course. Franklin Roosevelt took obvious pleasure in slicing the saddle of lamb. Rhoda Henry ventured to remark, "My goodness, I wish Pug could carve like that!" "Oh, I'm sure he can." Arching his thick grizzled eyebrows with selfsatisfaction, the President swept the knife artistically202 through the meat. "I do like a slice of lamb, though, don't you, Rhoda? Not a steak, and not a shaving, either. The secret is a sharp knife and a firm hand." Victor Henry was answering Mrs. Roosevelt's questions about Nazi Germany, raising his voice because she had said she was rather deaf. "What's that, Pug?" the President said, cocking an ear as he sliced meat. "Am I missingsomething good?" "I was saying, sir, that when I left Germany, their industrial effort was just getting into high gear." "You don't say. They scored pretty well in low gear, then." "Well, Mr. President, as it turned out, the others had been doing even less." Roosevelt faced Maugham, on the other side of the crown princess. "Captain Henry was in the intelligence business too, Willie. He was naval attache in Berlin. He predicted that pact between Hitler and Stalin before it happened. All the clever diplomats, generals, and columnists203 were caught flat-footed, but not Pug. What's your prediction now, Pug? How about all that massing of troops in the east? Will Hitler attack Russia?" The President's quick wily glance told Pug that he was thinking of the document they had discussed on the train. "Mr. President, after that piece of luck, I hocked my crystal ball and threw away the ticket." Maugham wagged a knobby tobacco-stained finger. "Ccaptain, don't ever admit to luck, in our r-racket." "What do you think, Sumner?" the President said. "If one studies Mein Kampf," said Welles in undertaker tones, "the attack is inevitable204, sooner or later." 'How Yong ago did he write that book? Twenty years ago?" said Franklin Roosevelt, his powerful voice reminding Rhoda very strongly of his radio manner. "I'd hate to be bound by anything I said or wrote way back then." Mrs. Roosevelt said, "Mr. Maugham-if Germany attacks the Soviet57 union, will England help Russia, or leave Stalin to stew182 in his own juice?" The author looked at the President's wife for several seconds. A heavy silence enveloped205 the table. "I-I can't really say." "You know, Willie," said the President, "a lot of folks here don't believe the story that Rudolf Hess is crazy. They say that he was sent over to advise your people of the coming attack on Russia, and to get a handsoff agreement, in return for a promise to help you keep the Empire." "That very plan is in Mein Kampf." Mrs. Roosevelt spoke out like a schoolteacher. Somerset Maugham, caught in the cross-fire of crisp words from the President and his wife, spread his hands, crouching206 in his chair, looking small, old, and tired.
"Sumner, do you suppose we could explain it to the American people," said Roosevelt, "if the British did not help Russia?" "I think that would finish off aid to England, Mr. President," said Sumner Welles. "If Hitler is a menace to mankind, that's one thing. If he's just a menace to the British Empire, that's something very different." With a brief look at the British author, the President said in a much lighter207 tone, "Well! Shall I slice some more lamb?" "I will thank you for some, Mr. President," spoke up the crown princess. "Of course, Hitler may be massing his troops in the east precisely208 because he intends to invade England." The princess talked precise English with a Scandinavian lilt. She was making a tactful cover, Pug thought, for the awkward moment with Maugham. She had not previously209 said anything. "You know, every time Hitler starts a new campaign, Stalin pinches off something here and something there. This may be a show of force to keep him out of the Rumanian oil fields." "That, too, is possible," said Sumner Welles. "European politics can be such a miserable210 tangle," said Mrs. Roosevelt. "But it all boils down to Hitler's impulses nowadays," said the President. "Pity we must live in the same century with that strange creature. Say, we have here two men who talked at length face to face with the kL fellow. Let's take a Gallup poll. Sumner, do you think Hitler is a madman?" "I looked hard for such evidence, Mr. President. But as I reported, I found him a cool, very knowledgeable211, very skilled advocate, with great dignity and-I'm afraidonsiderable charm." "How about you, Pug?" "Mr. President, don't misunderstand me. But to me, so far, all heads of state are more alike than they are different." Roosevelt looked taken aback, then he threw his head back and guffawed212, and so the others laughed. "Well! That's something! At my own table, I've been compared to Hitler! Pug, you'd better talk your way out of that one fast." "But it's the truth. He has a very powerful presence, sir, face to face -though I hate to admit it-with an incredible memory, and a remarkable214 ability to marshal a lot of facts as he tami. In his public speeches he often raves215 like a complete nut. But I think when he does that, he's just giving the Germans what they want. That impressed me, too. His ability to act such different parts." Roosevelt was slightly smiling now. "Yes, Pug, that would be part of the job. The fellow is able, of course. Or he wouldn't be giving us all this trouble."Rhoda blurted216, "Pug, when on earth did you have a talk with Hitler? That's news to me." The artless injured-wife tone made the President laugh, and laughter swept the table. She turned on Roosevelt. "Honestly, he's always been closemouthed, but to keep something like that from me!" "You didn't need to know," Pug said across the table. "C-captain Henry," said Somerset Maugham, leaning forward, "I bow to a p-p-professional." The conversation broke into little amused colloquies217. Roosevelt said to Rhoda Henry, "My dear, you couldn't have paid your husband a handsomer compliment in public." "I didn't intend to. Imagine! He's just a sphinx, that man." She darted218 a tender look at Pug, She was feeling very kindly219 toward him, and indeed to all the world, having enjoyed a moment of spontaneous success at the presidential table. of Pug is a fine officer," said the President, "and I expect great things of him." Rhoda felt warm excitement. "I always have, Mr. President." "Not everybody deserves such a beautiful wife," Roosevelt said, with a decidedly human glance at her that took in her decolletage, "but he does, Rhoda." Withe oldest instinct in the world, blushing, Rhoda Henry looked toward Mrs. Roosevelt, who was deep in conversation with Sumner Welles. It flashed through Rhoda's mind that there was a tall woman who had married a very tall man. But Pug at least could walk. Life balanced out in strange ways, Rhoda thought; the heady situation was making her philosophical220. Madeline and Byron sat on opposite sides of the table, she between Maugham and Welles, Byron between the crown princess and a deaf, very old lady in purple named Delano. This lady had said nothing all evening; a relative, obviously, living at the White House and interested mainly in the food. Madeline was speaking first to the Undersecretary of State and then to the famous author, her face alive, flushed, and gay, her gestures quick, Maugham offered to come on Cleveland's interview program, when she told him what she did. He said candidly221 that his mission was British propaganda, so why not? She was entranced. Byron throughout the dinner sat silent, collected, withdrawn222. Victor Henry saw Roosevelt looking quizzically at him. The President loved to charm everybody and to have only cheerful faces around him. Pug kept glancing at his son, hoping to catch his eye and signal him to perk223 up. Over the ice cream, the President said in moment's lull224, "We haven't heard from our submariner here. Byron,you'reanaturalfort(a) he silent service. Ha ha." The young officer gave him a melancholy smile. "How's the morale225 in your outfit226?" "Good, Mr. President.""Are you ready to go to war, as Mr. Maugham seems to desire?" "Personally, sir, I'm more than ready-" "Well, that's the spirit." Victor Henry interposed, "Byron was visiting a friend in Poland when the war began. He was strafed by a Luftwaffe plane and wounded." "I see," said the President, giving Byron an attentive227 stare. "Well, you have a motive228 then for wanting to fight Germans." "That's not it so much, Mr. President. The thing is that my wife is trapped in Italy." Franklin Roosevelt appeared startled. "Trapped? How, trapped?" The rich voice went flat. Everybody at the table looked at Byron. The atmosphere was thick with curiosity. "Her uncle is Dr. Aaron Jastrow, Mr. President, the author of A jew's Jesus. He's had some trouble about his passport. He can't come home. He's old and not well, and she won't abandon him." Byron spoke as flatly as the President, getting out each word very distinctly. Mrs. Roosevelt put in with a smile, "Why, Franklin, we both read A Jew's Jesus. Don't you remember? You liked it i,ery much indeed." "Dr. Jastrow taught at Yale for years, Mrs. Roosevelt," Byron said. "He's lived here almost all his life. It's just some crazy red tape. Meantime there they are." "A jew's Jesus is a good book," said the President, bored and stern. "Sumner, couldn't you have somebody look into this?" "Certainly, Mr. President." "And let me know what you find out." "I will, sir." Franklin Roosevelt resumed eating his ice cream. Nobody spoke. Perhaps eight or ten seconds ticked by, but at that table, in that company, it was a long time. Everybody appeared bent229 on eating dessert, and the spoons clinked and scraped. "Speaking of that book," the President's wife said with a bright smile, looking up, "I have just been reading the most extraordinary little volume-" The door to the hallway opened, and a pale moustached Navy commander entered, carrying a brown envelope. "I beg your pardon, Mr. President.""Yes, yes. Let me have it." The commander went out. The tearing envelope made a noisy rasp. Yellow strips like telegram tape were pasted on the white sheet the President unfolded. "Well!" Franklin Roosevelt looked around, his face all at once charged with teasing relish230. "May I relay a bit of news?" He took a dramatic pause. "It seems they've got the Bismarck!" "Ah!" The crown princess bounced in her chair, clapping like a girl, amid an excited babble231. The President raised his hand. "Wait, wait. I don't want to be overoptimistic or premature232. What it says is, airplanes from the Ark Royal have caught up with her and pat several torpedoes233 in her. They must have hit her steering234 gear, because when night fell she was trailing thick oil and steaming slowly west-the wrong way. The entire fleet is closing in and some units now have her in sight." "Does it give a position, Mr. President?" said Victor Henry. The President read off a latitude and longitude. "Okay. That's a thousand miles from Brest," said Pug. "Well outside the Luftwaffe air umbrella. They've got her." President Roosevelt turned to a servant. "Fill the glasses, please." Several waiters sprang to obey him. Silence enveloped the table. The President lifted his glass. "The British Navy," he said. 'the British Navy," the company said in chorus, and all drank. Somerset Maugham blinked his lizard235 eyes many times. Next morning, long after Victor Henry had gone to work, when the maid came to remove the breakfast things, Rhoda asked her for pen and paper. She wrote a short note in bed: Palmer, dearYou have a kindly heart that understands without explanations. I can't do it. I realize we can't see each other for a long while, but I hope we will be friends forever. My love and everlasting236 thanks for offering me more than I deserve and can accept. I'll never forget. Forgive me. Rhoda She sealed it up at once, dressed quickly, and went out in the rain and mailed it herself. That same dark and muggy237 morning, shortly before noon, a buzzer238 sounded on the desk of Victor Henry's office. He sat in his shirt-sleeves working by electric light. "Yes?" he growled239 into the intercom. He had left word that he would take no calls. The head of War Plans wanted, by the end of the week, a study of merchant shipping240 requirements for the next four years. "Excuse me, sir. The office of Mr. Sumner Welles is calling, sir." "Sumner Welles, hey? Okay, I'll talk to Sumner Welles."Welles's secretary had a sweet sexy Southern voice. "Oh, Captain Henry. Oh, suh, the Undersecretary is most anxious to see you today, if you happen to be free." Glancing at his desk clock and deciding to skip lunch, Pug said, "I can come over right now." "Oh, that will be fahn, suh, just fahn. In about fifteen minutes?" When he arrived at Welles's office, the warm sexy voice turned out to belong to a fat old fright, sixty or so, in a seersucker dress. 'Mali, you got here fast, Captain. Now, the Undersecretary is with Secretary Hull just now. He says do you mind talking to Mr. Whitman? Mr. Whitman has all the details." "Yes, I'll talk to Mr. Whitman." She led him from the spacious241 and splendid offices of Sumner Welles to a much smaller and more ordinary office without a window. The projecting sign over the doorway indicated a minor official in European Affairs. Aloysius R. Whitman was a thick-haired man in his late forties, indistinguishable from ten thousand other denizens242 of Washington offices, except for his somewhat horsy clothes, an unusually florid face, and an unusually bright smile. Several prints of horses livened the walls of the small office. "The Undersecretary sends his thanks to you, Captain, for interrupting a busy schedule to come over." He gestured at a chair. "Cigarette?" "'nanks." The two men smoked and regarded each other. "Wretched weather," said Whitman. "The worst," said Pug. "Well, now. The business of Dr. Aaron Jastrow's passport," Whitman said genially243. it's no problem whatever, as it turns out. The authorization244 was sent out a while ago. It may have been delayed enroute, the way things often are nowadays. At any rate it's all set. We doublechecked by cable with Rome. Dr. Jastrow can have his passport any time he'll come down from Siena to pick it up, and has been so informed. It's all locked up." "Good. That was fast work." "As I say, there was no work to do. It had already been taken care of." "Well, my son will be mighty glad to hear about this.""Oh yes. About your son." Whitman uttered a little laugh. He rose, hands jammed in the patch pockets of his green and brown jacket, and leaned casually245 on the edge of his desk near Pug, as though to make the chat less official. "I hope you'll take this in the right spirit. The Undersecretary was disconcerted to have this thing raised at the President's dinner table." 'Naturally. I was mighty jarred myself. So was my wife. I chewed Byron out afterward246, gave him holy hell, but the thing was done." 'I'm awfully247 glad you feel that way. Suppose you just drop a little note to the President, sort of apologizing for your son's rather touching248 gate, and mentioning that you've learned the matter was all taken care of long ago?" 'An unsolicited letter from me to the President?" "You're on very good terms with the President. You just dined with him." "But he asked for a report from Mr. Welles." The captain and the State Department man looked each other in the eye. Whitman gave him the brightest of smiles and paced the little office. 'We went to a rather dramatic effort this morning, Captain, just to make sure young Mrs. Henry could get home. Literally249 thousands of these cases of Jewish reugees come to us, all the time. The pressure is enormous. It's absolutely nbelievable. Now the problem in your family is settled. We hoped you'd be more appreciative250." Rightly or wrongly, Henry sensed an unpleasant nuance251 in the way the man said "your family," and he broke in, "Natalie and her uncle aren't Jewish refugees, they're a couple of Americans." "There was some question, Captain-apparently a very serious question-as to whether Aaron Jastrow was technically252 an American. Now we've cleared it up. In return I really think you should write that letter." "I'd like to oblige you, but as I say, I wasn't asked to address the President on this subject." Pug got to his feet. "Is there something else?" Whiunan confronted him, hands in jacket pockets. "Let me be frank. The Undersecretary wants a report from me, for him to forward to the President. But just a word from you would conclude the matter. So-" "I'll tell you, Mr. tman, I might even write it, if I could find out why a distinguished253 man like Jastrow got stopped by a technicality when he wanted to come home. That's certainly what the President wants to know. But I can't give him the answer. Can you?" Whitman looked at Victor Henry with a blank face. "Okay. Maybe somebody in your section can. Whoever was responsible had better try to explain." 'Captain Henry, the Undersecretary of State may find your refusal hard to understand.""Why should he? He's not asking me to write this letter. You are." Pulling hairy hands from his pockets, Whitman chopped both of them in the air with a gesture that was both a plea and a threat. He suddenly looked weary and disagreeable. "It's a direct suggestion of the State Department. $ "I work for the Navy Department," said Pug. "And I have to get back on the job. Many thanks." He walked out, telephoned the Norfolk Navy Yard from a booth in the lobby, and sent a message to Byron on the S-45. His son called him at his office late in the afternoon. "Eeyowl" shouted Byron, hurting his father's ear. "No kidding, Dad! Do you believe it this time?" "Yes." "God, how Marvelous. Now if she can only get on a plane or a boat! But she'll do it. She can do anything. Dad, I'm so happy! Hey! Be honest now. Was I right to talk to the President, or was I wrong? She's coming home, Dad!" "You had one hell of a nerve. Now I'm goddamned btwy and I hope you are. Get back to work." Therefore I have tonight issued a proclamation that an UNLIMITED254 national emergency exists, and requires the strengthening of our defenses to the extreme limit of our national power and authority. "Okay!" exclaimed Pug Henry, sitting up, striking a fist into a palm, and staring at the radio. "There he goes!" Roosevelt's rich voice, which in broadcasting always took on a theatrical256 ring and swing, rose now to a note of passion. "I repeat the words of the signers of the Declaration of Independence -that little band of patriots257, fighting long ago against overwhelming odds258, but certain, as we are, of ultimate victory: With a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence259, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor."' After a moment of crackling static, the announcer sounded awed213: "You have been listening to an address by the President of the United States, speaking from the East Room of the White House in Washington." "That's terrific! It's far more than I expected." Pug snapped the radio off. "He finally did it!" Rhoda said, 'He did? Funny. I thought he just pussyfooted around." "Pussyfooted! Weren't you listrung? 'We are placing our armed forces in position... we willuse them to repel260 attack. an unlimited national emergency exists. "What does all that mean?" Rhoda yawned and stretched on the chaise tongue, kicking her legs. One pink-feathered mule261 dropped off her naked foot. "Is it the same as war?" "Next thing to it. We convoy right away. And that's just for starters." "Makes me wonder," said Rhoda, flipping262 the negligee over her legs, whether we should pursue those houses any further." "Why not?" "They'll surely give you a sea command if we go to war, Pug." "Who knows? In any case, we need a place to hang our hats." "I suppose so. Have you thought any more about which house you'd want?" Pug grimaced263. Here was an old dilemma264. Twice before they had bought a bigger house in Washington than he could afford, with Rhoda's money. "I like the N Street house." "But, dear, that means no guest room, and precious little entertaining." "Look, if your heart is set on Foxhall Road, okay." "We'll see, honey. I'll look again at both of them." Rhoda rose, stretching and smiling. "It's that time. Coming to bed?" "Be right up." Pug opened a briefcase265. Rhoda swished out, purring, "Bring me a bourbon-and-water when you come." Pug did not know why he was back in her good graces, or why he had fallen out in the first place. He was too preoccupied266 to dwell on that. His arithmetic on merchant shipping was obsolete267 if the United States about to convoy. Transfers of ownership and other roundabout tricks could be dropped.(was) It was a whole new situation now, and Pug thought the decision to convoy would galvanize the country. He made two bourbon-and-waters, nice and rich, and went upstairs humming. The yeoman's voice on the intercom was apologetic. "Sir, beg your pardon. Will you talk to Mr. Alistair Tudsbury?" Victor Henry, sweating in shirt-sleeves over papers laid out on every inch of his desk, was tryingat the urgent demand of the office of the Chief of Naval Operations-to bring up to date before nightfall the operation plan filed months earlier, for combined American and British convoying. "What? Yes, put him on.... Hello? Henry speaking." "Am I disturbing you, dear boy? That's quite a bark." 'No, not at all. What's up?" "What do you make of the President's press conference?""I didn't know he'd had one." "You are busy. Ask your office to get you the afternoon papers." "Wait a minute. They should be here." Pug's yeoman brought in two newspapers smelling of fresh ink. The headlines were huge: NO CONVOYS - FDR and PRESIDENT TO PRESS: SPEECH DIDN'T MEAN CONVOYS "Unlimited Emergency" Merely a Warning; No Policy Changes Skinuning the stories, Pug saw that Franklin Roosevelt had blandly268 taken back his whole radio speech, claiming the reporters had misunderstood it. There would be no stepped-up United States action in the Atlantic, north or south. He had never suggested that. Patrolling, not convoying, would go on as before. No Army troops or marines would be sent to Iceland or anywhere else. All he had been trying to do was warn the nation that great danger existed. Tudsbury, who could hear the pages turning, said, "Well? Tell me something encouraging." "I thought I understood Franklin Roosevelt," Pug Henry muttered. Tudsbury said, 'What's that? Victor, our people have been ringing church bells an'd dancing in the streets over last night's speech. Now I have to broadcast and tell about this press conference." "I don't envy you." "Can you come over for a drink?" "I'm afraid not." "Please try. Pam's leaving." "What?" "She's going home, leaving on a boat tonight. She's been pestering269 them for weeks to let her return to Blighty." "Let me call you back." He told his yeoman to telephone an old shipmate of his, Captain Feller, at the office of the Chief of Naval Operations. "Hello, Soapy? Pug. Say, have you seen the papers about that press conference?... Yes, I quite agree. Well, now, next question. This Convoy Annex270 Four. Do you still want it by tonight?. .. Now, Soapy, that's a rude suggestion, and it's an awfully bulky annex. Moreover I hope we'll use it one day.... Okay. Thanks." Pug hit the buzzer. "Call Tudsbury. I'm coming over.""The funny part is," Pug said to Tudsbury, "Rhoda said he pussyfooted around. I was taken in." "Maybe it needs a woman to follow that devious271 mind," said the correspondent. "Pam, where are your manners? Pug's here to say good-bye to you. Come in and have your drink." "In a minute. My things are all in a slop." They could see Pamela moving in the codor, carrying clothes, books, and valises here and there. They sat in the small living room of Tudsbury's apartment off Connecticut Avenue, hot and airless despite open windows through which afternoon traffic noise and sunlight came streaming. Tudsbury, sprawling272 on a sofa in a massively wrinkled Palm Beach suit, with one thick leg up, heaved a sigh. "I shall be alone again. There's a girl who is all self, self, self." "Family trait," called the dulcet273 voice from out of sight. "Shut up. Please, Pug, give me something comforting to say in this bloody broadcast." "I can't think of a thing." Tudsbury took a large drink of neat whiskey and heavily shook his head. "What's happened to Franklin Roosevelt? The Atlantic convoy route is the jugular274 vein275 of civilization. The Huns are sawing at it with a razor. He knows the tonnage figures of the past three months. He knows that with Crete and the Balkans mopped up, the Luftwaffe will come back at us, double its size of last year and howling with victory. What the devil?" "I'll have my drink now," said Pamela, striding in. "Don't you think you should be going, governor?" He held his tumbler out to her. "One more. I have never been more reluctant to face a microphone. I have stage fright. My tongue will cleave276 to the roof of my mouth." "Oh yes. just as it's doing now." Pamela took his glass and Pug's to the small wheeled bar. "Put in more ice. I've caught that decadent277 American habit. Pug, the Empire's finished. We're nothing but an outpost of yours against the Germans. But we're a fighting outpost of forty millions, with a strong navy and a plucky278 air force. Why, man, we're your Hawaii in the Atlantic, many times as big and powerful and crucial. Oh, I could make one hell of a broadcast about how preposterous279 your policy is!" "Thanks, Pam," Pug said. "I agree with you, Tudsbury. So does the Secretary of the Army. So does Harry Hopkins. They've both made ST)eeches urizing convoy now. I have no defense255 of the President's policy.
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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mawkish
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| adj.多愁善感的的；无味的 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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lookouts
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| n.寻找（ 某人/某物）( lookout的名词复数 )；是某人（自己）的问题；警戒；瞭望台 | |
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21
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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22
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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23
zigzags
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| n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
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24
liaison
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| n.联系，（未婚男女间的）暖昧关系，私通 | |
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25
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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26
zigzagging
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| v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的现在分词 )；盘陀 | |
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27
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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28
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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29
concur
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| v.同意，意见一致，互助，同时发生 | |
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30
hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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31
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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32
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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33
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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34
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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35
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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36
convoy
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| vt.护送，护卫，护航；n.护送；护送队 | |
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37
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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38
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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39
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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40
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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41
latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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42
longitude
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| n.经线，经度 | |
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43
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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44
mildewed
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| adj.发了霉的，陈腐的，长了霉花的v.（使）发霉，（使）长霉( mildew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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46
hulls
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| 船体( hull的名词复数 )； 船身； 外壳； 豆荚 | |
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47
frigates
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| n.快速军舰( frigate的名词复数 ) | |
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48
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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49
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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50
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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51
Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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52
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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53
awareness
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| n.意识，觉悟，懂事，明智 | |
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54
aster
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| n.紫菀属植物 | |
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55
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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56
viable
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| adj.可行的，切实可行的，能活下去的 | |
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57
Soviet
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| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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58
soviets
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| 苏维埃（Soviet的复数形式） | |
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59
pact
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| n.合同，条约，公约，协定 | |
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60
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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61
judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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62
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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63
versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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64
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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65
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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66
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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67
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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68
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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69
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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70
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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71
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
groomed
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| v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的过去式和过去分词 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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73
briny
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| adj.盐水的；很咸的；n.海洋 | |
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74
roster
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| n.值勤表，花名册 | |
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75
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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76
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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77
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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78
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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79
maneuvers
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| n.策略，谋略，花招( maneuver的名词复数 ) | |
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80
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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81
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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82
slitting
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| n.纵裂（缝）v.切开，撕开( slit的现在分词 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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83
scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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84
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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85
slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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86
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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87
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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88
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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89
torpedo
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| n.水雷，地雷；v.用鱼雷破坏 | |
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90
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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91
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
brandished
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| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
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93
consuls
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| 领事( consul的名词复数 )； （古罗马共和国时期）执政官 （古罗马共和国及其军队的最高首长，同时共有两位，每年选举一次） | |
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94
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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95
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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96
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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97
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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98
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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99
mementos
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| 纪念品，令人回忆的东西( memento的名词复数 ) | |
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100
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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101
liquidated
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| v.清算( liquidate的过去式和过去分词 )；清除（某人）；清偿；变卖 | |
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102
preening
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| v.（鸟）用嘴整理（羽毛）( preen的现在分词 ) | |
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103
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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104
bogged
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| adj.陷于泥沼的v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的过去式和过去分词 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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105
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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106
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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107
cubicle
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| n.大房间中隔出的小室 | |
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108
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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109
refreshingly
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| adv.清爽地，有精神地 | |
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110
plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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111
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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112
crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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113
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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114
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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115
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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116
verbose
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| adj.用字多的；冗长的；累赘的 | |
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117
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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118
promotions
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| 促进( promotion的名词复数 )； 提升； 推广； 宣传 | |
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119
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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120
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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121
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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122
Nazi
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| n.纳粹分子，adj.纳粹党的，纳粹的 | |
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123
Nazism
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| n. 纳粹主义 | |
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124
Nazis
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| n.（德国的）纳粹党员( Nazi的名词复数 )；纳粹主义 | |
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125
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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126
contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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127
overlapping
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| adj./n.交迭（的） | |
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128
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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129
fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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130
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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131
lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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132
awesome
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| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
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133
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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134
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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135
diplomats
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| n.外交官( diplomat的名词复数 )；有手腕的人，善于交际的人 | |
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136
bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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137
entrenched
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| adj.确立的，不容易改的(风俗习惯) | |
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138
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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139
gliders
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| n.滑翔机( glider的名词复数 ) | |
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140
airfield
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| n.飞机场 | |
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141
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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142
rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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143
convoys
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| n.（有护航的）船队( convoy的名词复数 )；车队；护航（队）；护送队 | |
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144
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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145
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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146
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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147
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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148
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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149
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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150
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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151
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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152
fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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153
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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154
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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155
compartments
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| n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 )；（列车车厢的）隔间；（家具或设备等的）分隔间；隔层 | |
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156
rinsed
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| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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157
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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158
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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159
steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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160
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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161
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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162
laments
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| n.悲恸，哀歌，挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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163
queries
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| n.问题( query的名词复数 )；疑问；询问；问号v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的第三人称单数 )；询问 | |
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164
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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165
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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166
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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167
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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168
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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169
citizenship
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| n.市民权，公民权，国民的义务(身份) | |
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170
jawing
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| n.用水灌注 | |
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171
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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172
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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173
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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174
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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175
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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176
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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177
usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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178
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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179
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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180
ashtrays
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| 烟灰缸( ashtray的名词复数 ) | |
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181
stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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182
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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183
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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184
cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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185
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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186
virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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187
cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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188
exhaled
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|
| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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189
stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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190
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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191
scowling
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|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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192
abominable
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|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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193
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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194
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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195
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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196
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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197
carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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198
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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199
bombers
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| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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200
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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201
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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202
artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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203
columnists
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| n.专栏作家( columnist的名词复数 ) | |
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204
inevitable
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|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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205
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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206
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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207
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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208
precisely
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|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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209
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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210
miserable
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|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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211
knowledgeable
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|
| adj.知识渊博的；有见识的 | |
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212
guffawed
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| v.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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213
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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214
remarkable
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|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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215
raves
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| n.狂欢晚会( rave的名词复数 )v.胡言乱语( rave的第三人称单数 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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216
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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217
colloquies
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| n.谈话，对话( colloquy的名词复数 ) | |
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218
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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219
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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220
philosophical
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|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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221
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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222
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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223
perk
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| n.额外津贴；赏钱；小费； | |
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224
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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225
morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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226
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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227
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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228
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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229
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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230
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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231
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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232
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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233
torpedoes
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| 鱼雷( torpedo的名词复数 )； 油井爆破筒； 刺客； 掼炮 | |
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234
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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235
lizard
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| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
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236
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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237
muggy
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|
| adj.闷热的；adv.（天气）闷热而潮湿地；n.（天气）闷热而潮湿 | |
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238
buzzer
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| n.蜂鸣器；汽笛 | |
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239
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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240
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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241
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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242
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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243
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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244
authorization
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| n.授权，委任状 | |
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245
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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246
afterward
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|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
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247
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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248
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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249
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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250
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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251
nuance
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| n.(意义、意见、颜色)细微差别 | |
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252
technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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253
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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254
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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255
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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256
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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257
patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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258
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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259
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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260
repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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261
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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262
flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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263
grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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264
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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265
briefcase
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| n.手提箱，公事皮包 | |
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266
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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267
obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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268
blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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269
pestering
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的现在分词 ) | |
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270
annex
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| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
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271
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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272
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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273
dulcet
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| adj.悦耳的 | |
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274
jugular
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| n.颈静脉 | |
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275
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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276
cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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277
decadent
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| adj.颓废的，衰落的，堕落的 | |
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278
plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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279
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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