‘OH JESUS, THIS IS wonderful,’ said the Stag.
He was lying back in the bath with a Scotch1 and soda2 in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
The water was right up to the brim and he was keeping it warm by turning the tap with his toes.
He raised his head and took a little sip3 of his whisky, then he lay back and closed his eyes.
‘For God’s sake, get out,’ said a voice from the next room. ‘Come on. Stag, you’ve had over an
hour.’ Stuffy4 was sitting on the edge of the bed with no clothes on, drinking slowly and waiting his
turn.
The Stag said, ‘All right. I’m letting the water out now,’ and he stretched out a leg and flipped5
up the plug with his toes.
Stuffy stood up and wandered into the bathroom holding his drink in his hand. The Stag lay in
the bath for a few moments more, then, balancing his glass carefully on the soap rack, he stood up
and reached for a towel. His body was short and square, with strong thick legs and exaggerated
calf6 muscles. He had coarse curly ginger7 hair and a thin, rather pointed8 face covered with freckles9.
There was a layer of pale ginger hair on his chest.
‘Jesus,’ he said, looking down into the bathtub, ‘I’ve brought half the desert with me.’
Stuffy said. ‘Wash it out and let me get in. I haven’t had a bath for five months.’
This was back in the early days when we were fighting the Italians in Libya. One flew very hard
in those days because there were not many pilots. They certainly could not send any out from
England because there they were fighting the Battle of Britain. So one remained for long periods
out in the desert, living the strange unnatural10 life of the desert, living in the same dirty little tent,
washing and shaving every day in a mug full of one’s own spat-out tooth water, all the time
picking flies out of one’s tea and out of one’s food, having sandstorms which were as much in the
tents as outside them so that placid11 men became bloody12-minded and lost their tempers with their
friends and with themselves; having dysentery and gippy tummy and mastoid and desert sores,
having some bombs from the Italian S-79s, having no water and no women, having no flowers
growing out of the ground; having very little except sand sand sand. One flew old Gloster Gladia-
tors against the Italian CR42s, and when one was not flying, it was difficult to know what to do.
Occasionally one would catch scorpions14, put them in empty petrol cans and match them against
each other in fierce mortal combat. Always there would be a champion scorpion13 in the squadron, a
sort of Joe Louis who was invincible15 and won all his fights. He would have a name; he would
become famous and his training diet would be a great secret known only to the owner. Training
diet was considered very important with scorpions. Some were trained on corned beef, some on a
thing called Machonachies, which is an unpleasant canned meat stew16, some on live beetles17 and
there were others who were persuaded to take a little beer just before the fight, on the’ premise18 that
it made the scorpion happy and gave him confidence. These last ones always lost. But there were
great battles and great champions, and in the afternoons when the flying was over, one could often
see a group of pilots and airmen standing19 around in a circle on the sand, bending over with their
hands on their knees, watching the fight, exhorting20 the scorpions and shouting at them as people
shout at boxers21 or wrestlers in a ring. Then there would be a victory, and the man who owned the
winner would become excited. He would dance around in the sand yelling, waving his arms in the
air and extolling22 in a loud voice the virtues23 of the victorious24 animal. The greatest scorpion of all
was owned by a sergeant25 called Wishful who fed him only on marmalade. The animal had an
unmentionable name, but he won forty-two consecutive26 fights and then died quietly in training just
when Wishful was considering the problem of retiring him to stud.
So you can see that because there were no great pleasures while living in the desert, the small
pleasures became great pleasures and the pleasures of children became the pleasures of grown
men. That was true for everyone; for the pilots, the fitters, the riggers, the corporals who cooked
the food, and the men who kept the stores. It was true for the Stag and for Stuffy, so true that when
the two of them wangled a forty-eight hour pass and a lift by air into Cairo, and when they got to
the hotel, they were feeling about having a bath rather as you would feel on the first night of your
honeymoon27.
The Stag had dried himself and was lying on the bed with a towel round his waist, with his
hands up behind his head, and Stuffy was in the bath, lying with his head against the back of the
bath, groaning28 and sighing with ecstasy29.
The Stag said, ‘Stuffy.’
‘Yes.’
‘What are we going to do now?’
‘Women,’ said Stuffy. ‘We must find some women to take out to supper.’
The Stag said, ‘Later. That can wait till later.’ It was early afternoon.
‘I don’t think it can wait,’ said Stuffy.
‘Yes,’ said the Stag, ‘it can wait.’
The Stag was very old and wise; he never rushed any fences. He was twenty-seven, much older
than anyone else in the squadron, including the CO, and his judgement was much respected by the
others.
‘Let’s do a little shopping first,’ he said.
‘Then what?’ said the voice from the bathroom.
‘Then we can consider the other situation.’
There was a pause.
‘Stag?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know any women here?’
‘I used to. I used to know a Turkish girl with very white skin called Wenka, and a Yugoslav girl
who was six inches taller than I, called Kiki, and another who I think was Syrian. I can’t
remember her name.’
‘Ring them up,’ said Stuffy.
‘I’ve done it. I did it while you were getting the whisky. They’ve all gone. It isn’t any good.’
‘It’s never any good,’ Stuffy said.
The Stag said, ‘We’ll go shopping first. There is plenty of time.’
In an hour Stuffy got out of the bath. They both dressed themselves in clean khaki shorts and
shirts and wandered downstairs, through the lobby of the hotel and out into the bright hot street.
The Stag put on his sunglasses.
Stuffy said, ‘I know. I want a pair of sunglasses.’
‘All right. We’ll go and buy some.’
They stopped a gharry, got in and told the driver to go to Cicurel’s. Stuffy bought his sunglasses
and the Stag bought some poker30 dice31, then they wandered out again on to the hot crowded street.
‘Did you see that girl?’ said Stuffy.
‘The one that sold us the sunglasses?’
‘Yes. That dark one.’
‘Probably Turkish,’ said Stag.
Stuffy said, ‘I don’t care what she was. She was terrific. Didn’t you think she was terrific?’
They were walking along the Sharia Kasr-el-Nil with their hands in their pockets, and Stuffy
was wearing the sunglasses which he had just bought. It was a hot dusty afternoon, and the
sidewalk was crowded with Egyptians and Arabs and small boys with bare feet. The flies followed
the small boys and buzzed around their eyes, trying to get at the inflammation which was in them,
which was there because their mothers had done something terrible to those eyes when the boys
were young, so that they would not be eligible32 for military conscription when they grew older. The
small boys pattered along beside the Stag and Stuffy shouting, ‘Baksheesh, baksheesh,’ in shrill33
insistent34 voices, and the flies followed the small boys. There was the smell of Cairo, which is not
like the smell of any other city. It comes not from any one thing or from any one place; it comes
from everything everywhere; from the gutters35 and the sidewalks, from the houses and the shops
and the things in the shops and the food cooking in the shops, from the horses and the dung of the
horses in the streets and from the drains; it comes from the people and the way the sun bears down
upon the people and the way the sun bears down upon the gutters and the drains and the horses
and the food and the refuse in the streets. It is a rare, pungent36 smell, like something which is sweet
and rotting and hot and salty and bitter all at the same time, and it is never absent, even in the cool
of the early morning.
The two pilots walked along slowly among the crowd.
‘Didn’t you think she was terrific?’ said Stuffy. He wanted to know what the Stag thought.
‘She was all right.’
‘Certainly she was all right. You know what. Stag?’
‘What?’
‘I would like to take that girl out tonight.’
They crossed over a street and walked on a little farther.
The Stag said, ‘Well, why don’t you? Why don’t you ring up Rosette?’
‘Who in the hell’s Rosette?’
‘Madame Rosette,’ said the Stag. ‘She is a great woman.’
They were passing a place called Tim’s Bar. It was run by an Englishman called Tim Gilfillan
who had been a quartermaster sergeant in the last war and who had somehow managed to get left
behind in Cairo when the army went home.
‘Tim’s,’ said the Stag. ‘Let’s go in.’
There was no one inside except for Tim, who was arranging his bottles on shelves behind the
bar.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said, turning around. ‘Where you boys been all this time?’
‘Hello, Tim.’
He did not remember them, but he knew by their looks that they were in from the desert.
‘How’s my old friend Graziani?’ he said, leaning his elbows on the counter.
‘He’s bloody close,’ said the Stag. ‘He’s outside Mersah.’
‘What you flying now?’
‘Gladiators.’
‘Hell, they had those here eight years ago.’
‘Same ones still here,’ said the Stag. ‘They’re clapped out.’ They got their whisky and carried
the glasses over to a table in the corner.
Stuffy said, ‘Who’s this Rosette?’
The Stag took a long drink and put down the glass.
‘She’s a great woman,’ he said.
‘Who is she?’
‘She’s a filthy37 old Syrian Jewess.’
‘All right,’ said Stuffy, ‘all right, but what about her.’
‘Well,’ said Stag, ‘I’ll tell you. Madame Rosette runs the biggest brothel in the world. It is said
that she can get you any girl that you want in the whole of Cairo.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘No, it’s true. You just ring her up and tell her where you saw the woman, where she was
working, what shop and at which counter, together with an accurate description, and she will do
the rest.’
‘Don’t be such a bloody fool,’ said Stuffy.
‘It’s true. It’s absolutely true. Thirty-three squadron told me about her.’
‘They were pulling your leg.’
‘All right. You go and look her up in the phone book.’
‘She wouldn’t be in the phone book under that name.’
‘I’m telling you she is,’ said Stag. ‘Go and look her up under Rosette. You’ll see I’m right.’
Stuffy did not believe him, but he went over to Tim and asked him for a telephone directory and
brought it back to the table. He opened it and turned the pages until he came to R-o-s. He ran his
finger down the column. Roseppi … Rosery … Rosette. There it was, Rosette, Madame and the
address and number, clearly printed in the book. The Stag was watching him.
‘Got it?’ he said.
‘Yes, here it is. Madame Rosette.’
‘Well, why don’t you go and ring her up?’
‘What shall I say?’
The Stag looked down into his glass and poked38 the ice with his finger.
‘Tell her you are a Colonel,’ he said. ‘Colonel Higgins; she mistrusts pilot officers. And tell her
that you have seen a beautiful dark girl selling sunglasses at Cicurel’s and that you would like, as
you put it, to take her out to dinner.’
‘There isn’t a telephone here.’
‘Oh yes there is. There’s one over there.’
Stuffy looked around and saw the telephone on the wall at the end of the bar.
‘I haven’t got a piastre piece.’
‘Well, I have,’ said Stag. He fished in his pocket and put a piastre on the table.
‘Tim will hear everything I say.’
‘What the hell does that matter? He probably rings her up himself. You’re windy,’ he added.
‘You’re a shit.’ said Stuffy.
Stuffy was just a child. He was nineteen; seven whole years younger than the Stag. He was
fairly tall and he was thin, with a lot of black hair and a handsome wide-mouthed face which was
coffee brown from the sun of the desert. He was unquestionably the finest pilot in the squadron,
and already in these early days, his score was fourteen Italians confirmed destroyed. On the
ground he moved slowly and lazily like a tired person and he thought slowly and lazily like a
sleepy child, but when he was up in the air his mind was quick and his movements were quick, so
quick that they were like reflex actions. It seemed, when he was on the ground, almost as though
he was resting, as though he was dozing39 a little in order to make sure that when he got into the
cockpit he would wake up fresh and quick, ready for that two hours of high concentration. But
Stuffy was away from the aerodrome now and he had something on his mind which had waked
him up almost like flying. It might not last, but for the moment anyway, he was concentrating.
He looked again in the book for the number, got up and walked slowly over to the telephone.
He put in the piastre, dialled the number and heard it ringing the other end. The Stag was sitting at
the table looking at him and Tim was still behind the bar arranging his bottles. Tim was only about
five yards away and he was obviously going to listen to everything that was said. Stuffy felt rather
foolish. He leaned against the bar and waited, hoping that no one would answer.
Then click, the receiver was lifted at the other end and he heard a woman’s voice saying, ‘Allo.’
He said, ‘Hello, is Madame Rosette there?’ He was watching Tim. Tim went on arranging his
bottles, pretending to take no notice, but Stuffy knew that he was listening.
‘This ees Madame Rosette. Oo ees it?’ Her voice was petulant40 and gritty. She sounded as if she
did not want to be bothered with anyone just then.
Stuffy tried to sound casual. ‘This is Colonel Higgins.’
‘Colonel oo?’
‘Colonel Higgins.’ He spelled it.
‘Yes, Colonel. What do you want?’ She sounded impatient. Obviously this was a woman who
stood no nonsense. He still tried to sound casual.
‘Well, Madame Rosette, I was wondering if you would help me over a little matter.’
Stuffy was watching Tim. He was listening all right. You can always tell if someone is listening
when he is pretending not to. He is careful not to make any noise about what he is doing and he
pretends that he is concentrating very hard upon his job. Tim was like that now, moving the bottles
quickly from one shelf to another, watching the bottles, making no noise, never looking around
into the room. Over in the far corner the Stag was leaning forward with his elbows on the table,
smoking a cigarette. He was watching Stuffy, enjoying the whole business and knowing that Stuffy
was embarrassed because of Tim. Stuffy had to go on.
‘I was wondering if you could help me,’ he said. ‘I was in Cicurel’s today buying a pair of
sunglasses and I saw a girl there whom I would very much like to take out to dinner.’
‘What’s ’er name?’ The hard, rasping voice was more business-like than ever.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, sheepishly.
‘What’s she look like?’
‘Well, she’s got dark hair, and tall and, well, she’s very beautiful.’
‘What sort of dress was she wearing?’
‘Er, let me see. I think it was a kind of white dress with red flowers printed all over it.’ Then, as
a brilliant afterthought, he added, ‘She had a red belt.’ He remembered that she had been wearing
a shiny red belt.
There was a pause. Stuffy watched Tim who wasn’t making any noise with the bottles; he was
picking them up carefully and putting them down carefully.
Then the loud gritty voice again, ‘It may cost you a lot.’
‘That’s all right.’ Suddenly he didn’t like the conversation any more. He wanted to finish it and
get away.
‘Might cost you six pounds, might cost you eight or ten. I don’t know till I’ve seen her. That all
right?’
‘Yes yes, that’s all right.’
‘Where you living, Colonel?’
‘Metropolitan41 Hotel,’ he said without thinking.
‘All right, I give you a ring later.’ And she put down the receiver, bang.
Stuffy hung up, went slowly back to the table and sat down.
‘Well,’ said Stag, ‘that was all right, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She said that she would call me back at the hotel.’
‘You mean she’ll call Colonel Higgins at the hotel.’
Stuffy said ‘Oh Christ.’
Stag said, ‘It’s all right. We’ll tell the desk that the Colonel is in our room and to put his calls
through to us. What else did she say?’
‘She said it may cost me a lot, six or ten pounds.’
‘Rosette will take ninety per cent of it,’ said Stag. ‘She’s a filthy old Syrian Jewess.’
‘How will she work it?’ Stuffy said.
He was really a gentle person and now he was feeling worried about having started something
which might become complicated.
‘Well,’ said Stag, ‘she’ll dispatch one of her pimps to locate the girl and find out who she is. If
she’s already on the books, then it’s easy. If she isn’t, the pimp will proposition her there and then
over the counter at Cicurel’s. If the girl tells him to go to hell, he’ll up the price, and if she still
tells him to go to hell, he’ll up the price still more, and in the end she’ll be tempted42 by the cash and
probably agree. Then Rosette quotes you a price three times as high and takes the balance herself.
You have to pay her, not the girl. Of course, after that the girl goes on Rosette’s books, and once
she’s in her clutches she’s finished. Next time Rosette will dictate43 the price and the girl will not be
in a position to argue.’
‘Why?’
‘Because if she refuses, Rosette will say, “All right, my girl, I shall see that your employers,
that’s Cicurel’s, are told about what you did last time, how you’ve been working for me and using
their shop as a market place. Then they’ll fire you.” That’s what Rosette will say, and the wretched
girl will be frightened and do what she’s told.’
Stuffy. said, ‘Sounds like a nice person.’
‘Who?’
‘Madame Rosette.’
‘Charming,’ said Stag. ‘She’s a charming person.’
It was hot. Stuffy wiped his face with his handkerchief.
‘More whisky,’ said Stag. ‘Hi, Tim, two more of those.’
Tim brought the glasses over and put them on the table without saying anything. He picked up
the empty glasses and went away at once. To Stuffy it seemed as though he was different from
what he had been when they first came in. He wasn’t cheery any more, he was quiet and offhand44.
There wasn’t any more ‘Hi, you fellows, where you been all this time’ about him now, and when
he got back behind the counter he turned his back and went on arranging the bottles.
The Stag said, ‘How much money you got?’
‘Nine pounds, I think.’
‘May not be enough. You gave her a free hand, you know. You ought to have set a limit. She’ll
sting you now.’
‘I know,’ Stuffy said.
They went on drinking for a little while without talking. Then Stag said, ‘What you worrying
about, Stuffy?’
‘Nothing,’ he answered. ‘Nothing at all. Let’s go back to the hotel. She may ring up.’
They paid for their drinks and said good-bye to Tim, who nodded but didn’t say anything. They
went back to the Metropolitan and as they went past the desk, the Stag said to the clerk, ‘If a call
comes in for Colonel Higgins, put it through to our room. He’ll be there.’ The Egyptian said, ‘Yes,
sir,’ and made a note of it.
In the bedroom, the Stag lay down on his bed and lit a cigarette. ‘And what am I going to do
tonight?’ he said.
Stuffy had been quiet all the way back to the hotel. He hadn’t said a word. Now he sat down on
the edge of the other bed with his hands still in his pockets and said, ‘Look, Stag, I’m not very
keen on this Rosette deal any more. It may cost too much. Can’t we put it off?
The Stag sat up. ‘Hell no,’ he said. ‘You’re committed. You can’t fool about with Rosette like
that. She’s probably working on it at this moment. You can’t back out now.’
‘I may not be able to afford it,’ Stuffy said.
‘Well, wait and see.’
Stuffy got up, went over to the parachute bag and took out the bottle of whisky. He poured out
two, filled the glasses with water from the tap in the bathroom, came back and gave one to the
Stag.
‘Stag,’ he said. ‘Ring up Rosette and tell her that Colonel Higgins has had to leave town
urgently, to rejoin his regiment45 in the desert. Ring her up and tell her that. Say the Colonel asked
you to deliver the message because he didn’t have time.’
‘Ring her up yourself.’
‘She’d recognize my voice. Come on, Stag, you ring her.’
‘No,’ he said, I won’t.’
‘Listen,’ said Stuffy suddenly. It was the child Stuffy speaking. ‘I don’t want to go out with that
woman and I don’t want to have any dealings with Madame Rosette tonight. We can think of
something else.’
The Stag looked up quickly. Then he said, ‘All right. I’ll ring her.’
He reached for the phone book, looked up her number and spoke46 it into the telephone. Stuffy
heard him get her on the line and he heard him giving her the message from the Colonel. There
was a pause, then the Stag said, ‘I’m sorry Madame Rosette, but it’s nothing to do with me. I’m
merely delivering a message.’ Another pause; then the Stag said the same thing over again and
that went on for quite a long time, until he must have got tired of it, because in the end he put
down the receiver and lay back on his bed. He was roaring with laughter.
‘The lousy old bitch,’ he said, and he laughed some more.
Stuffy said, ‘Was she angry?’
‘Angry,’ said Stag. ‘Was she angry? You should have heard her. Wanted to know the Colonel’s
regiment and God knows what else and said he’d have to pay. She said you boys think you can
fool around with me but you can’t.’
‘Hooray,’ said Stuffy. ‘The filthy old Jewess.’
‘Now what are we going to do?’ said the Stag. ‘It’s six o’clock already.’
‘Let’s go out and do a little drinking in some of those Gyppi places.’
‘Fine. We’ll do a Gyppi pub crawl.’
They had one more drink, then they went out. They went to a place called the Excelsior, then
they went to a place called the Sphinx, then to a small place called by an Egyptian name, and by
ten o’clock they were sitting happily in a place which hadn’t got a name at all, drinking beer and
watching a kind of stage show. At the Sphinx they had picked up a pilot from Thirty-three
squadron, who said that his name was William. He was about the same age as Stuffy, but his face
was younger, for he had not been flying so long. It was especially around his mouth that he was
younger. He had a round schoolboy face and a small turned-up nose and his skin was brown from
the desert.
The three of them sat happily in the place without a name drinking beer, because beer was the
only thing that they served there. It was a long wooden room with an unpolished wooden sawdust
floor and wooden tables and chairs. At the far end there was a raised wooden stage where there
was a show going on. The room was full of Egyptians, sitting drinking black coffee with the red
tarbooshes on their heads. There were two fat girls on the stage dressed in shiny silver pants and
silver brassieres. One was waggling her bottom in time to the music. The other was waggling her
bosom48 in time to the music. The bosom waggler was most skilful49. She could waggle one bosom
without waggling the other and sometimes she would waggle her bottom as well. The Egyptians
were spellbound and kept giving her a big hand. The more they clapped the more she waggled and
the more she waggled the faster the music played, and the faster the music played, the faster she
waggled, faster and faster and faster, never losing the tempo50, never losing the fixed51 brassy smile
that was upon her face, and the Egyptians clapped more and more and louder and louder as the
speed increased. Everyone was very happy.
When it was over William said, ‘Why do they always have those dreary52 fat women? Why don’t
they have beautiful women?’
The Stag said, ‘The Gyppies like them fat. They like them like that.’
‘Impossible,’ said Stuffy.
‘It’s true,’ Stag said. ‘It’s an old business. It comes from the days where there used to be lots of
famines here, and all the poor people were thin and all the rich people and the aristocracy were
well fed and fat. If you got someone fat you couldn’t go wrong; she was bound to be high-class.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Stuffy.
William said, ‘Well, we’ll soon find out. I’m going to ask those Gyppies.’ He jerked his thumb
towards two middle-aged53 Egyptians who were sitting at the next table, only about four feet away.
‘No,’ said Stag. “No, William. We don’t want them over here.’
‘Yes,’ said Stuffy.
‘Yes,’ said William. ‘We’ve got to find out why the Gyppies like fat women.’
He was not drunk. None of them was drunk, but they were happy with a fair amount of beer and
whisky, and William was the happiest. His brown schoolboy face was radiant with happiness, his
turned-up nose seemed to have turned up a little more, and he was probably relaxing for the first
time in many weeks. He got up, took three paces over to the table of the Egyptians and stood in
front of them, smiling.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘my friends and I would be honoured if you would join us at our table.’
The Egyptians had dark greasy54 skins and podgy faces. They were wearing the red hats and one
of them had a gold tooth. At first, when William addressed them, they looked a little alarmed.
Then they caught on, looked at each other, grinned and nodded.
‘Pleess,’ said one.
‘Pleess,’ said the other, and they got up, shook hands with William and followed him over to
where the Stag and Stuffy were sitting.
William said, ‘Meet my friends. This is the Stag. This is Stuffy. I am William,’
The Stag and Stuffy stood up, they all shook hands, the Egyptians said ‘Pleess’ once more and
then everyone sat down.
The Stag knew that their religion forbade them to drink. ‘Have a coffee,’ he said.
The one with the gold tooth grinned broadly, raised his palms upward and hunched55 his
shoulders a little. ‘For me,’ he said, ‘I am accustomed. But for my frient,’ and he spread out his
hands towards the other, ‘for my frient – I cannot speak.’
The Stag looked at the friend. ‘Coffee?’ he asked.
‘Pleess,’ he answered. ‘I am accustomed.’
‘Good,’ said Stag. ‘Two coffees,’
He called a waiter. ‘Two coffees,’ he said. ‘And, wait a minute. Stuffy, William, more beer?’
‘For me,’ Stuffy said, ‘I am accustomed. But for my friend,’ and he turned towards William,
‘for my friend – I cannot speak,’
William said, ‘Please. I am accustomed,’ None of them smiled.
The Stag said, ‘Good. Waiter, two coffees and three beers,’ The waiter fetched the order and the
Stag paid. The Stag lifted his glass towards the Egyptians and said, ‘Bung ho,’
‘Bung ho,’ said Stuffy.
‘Bung ho,’ said William.
The Egyptians seemed to understand and they lifted their coffee cups. ‘Pleess,’ said the one.
Thank you,’ said the other. They drank.
The Stag put down his glass and said, ‘It is an honour to be in your country.’
‘You like?’
‘Yes,’ said the Stag. ‘Very fine.’
The music had started again and the two fat women in silver tights were doing an encore. The
encore was a knockout. It was surely the most remarkable56 exhibition of muscle control that has
ever been witnessed; for although the bottom-waggler was still just waggling her bottom, the
bosom-waggler was standing like an oak tree in the centre of the stage with her arms above her
head. Her left bosom she was rotating in a clockwise direction and her right bosom in an
anticlockwise direction. At the same time she was waggling her bottom and it was all in time to
the music. Gradually the music increased its speed, and as it got faster, the rotating and the
waggling got faster and some of the Egyptians were so spellbound by the contra-rotating bosoms57
of the woman that they were unconsciously following the movements of the bosoms with their
hands, holding their hands up in front of them and describing circles in the air. Everyone stamped
their feet and screamed with delight and the two women on the stage continued to smile their fixed
brassy smiles.
Then it was over. The applause gradually died down.
‘Remarkable,’ said the Stag.
‘You like?’
‘Please, it was remarkable.’
‘Those girls,’ said the one with the gold tooth, ‘very special.’
William couldn’t wait any longer. He leaned across the table and said, ‘Might I ask you a
question?’
‘Pleess,’ said Golden Tooth. ‘Pleess.’
‘Well,’ said William, ‘How do you like your women? Like this – slim?’ and he demonstrated
with his hands. ‘Or like this – fat?’
The gold tooth shone brightly behind a big grin. ‘For me, I like this, fat,’ and a pair of podgy
hands drew a big circle in the air.
‘And your friend?’ said William.
‘For my frient,’ he answered, ‘I cannot speak.’
‘Pleess,’ said the friend. ‘Like this.’ He grinned and drew a fat girl in the air with his hands.
Stuffy said, ‘Why do you like them fat?’
Golden Tooth thought for a moment, then he said, ‘You like them slim, eh?’
‘Please,’ said Stuffy. ‘I like them slim.’
‘Why you like them slim? You tell me.’
Stuffy rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. ‘William,’ he said, ‘why do we
like them slim?’
‘For me,’ said William, ‘I am accustomed.’
‘So am I,’ Stuffy said. ‘But why?’
William considered. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why we like them slim.’
‘Ha,’ said Golden Tooth, ‘You don’t know.’ He leaned over the table towards William and said
triumphantly58, ‘And me, I do not know either.’
But that wasn’t good enough for William. The Stag,’ he said, ‘says that all rich people in Egypt
used to be fat and all poor people were thin.’
‘No,’ said Golden Tooth, ‘No no no. Look those girls up there. Very fat; very poor. Look queen
of Egypt, Queen Farida. Very thin; very rich. Quite wrong.’
‘Yes, but what about years ago?’ said William.
‘What is this, years ago?’
William said, ‘Oh all right. Let’s leave it.’
The Egyptians drank their coffee and made noises like the last bit of water running out of the
bathtub. When they had finished, they got up to go.
‘Going?’ said the Stag.
‘Pleess,’ said Golden Tooth.
William said, ‘Thank you.’ Stuffy said, ‘Pleess.’ The other Egyptian said, ‘Pleess’ and the Stag
said, ‘Thank you.’ They all shook hands and the Egyptians departed.
‘Ropey types,’ said William.
‘Very,’ said Stuffy. ‘Very ropey types.’
The three of them sat on drinking happily until midnight, when the waiter came up and told
them that the place was closing and that there were no more drinks. They were still not really
drunk because they had been taking it slowly, but they were feeling healthy.
‘He says we’ve got to go.’
‘All right. Where shall we go? Where shall we go, Stag?’
‘I don’t know. Where do you want to go?’
‘Let’s go to another place like this,’ said William. This is a fine place.’
There was a pause. Stuffy was stroking the back of his neck with his hand. ‘Stag,’ he said
slowly, ‘I know where I want to go. I want to go to Madame Rosette’s and I want to rescue all the
girls there.’
‘Who’s Madame Rosette?’ William said.
‘She’s a great woman,’ said the Stag.
‘She’s a filthy old Syrian Jewess,’ said Stuffy.
‘She’s a lousy old bitch,’ said the Stag.
‘All right,’ said William. ‘Let’s go. But who is she?’
They told him who she was. They told him about their telephone calls and about Colonel
Higgins, and William said, ‘Come on, let’s go. Let’s go and rescue all the girls.’
They got up and left. When they went outside, they remembered that they were in a rather
remote part of the town.
‘We’ll have to walk a bit,’ said Stag. ‘No gharries here.’
It was a dark starry59 night with no moon. The street was narrow and blacked-out. It smelled
strongly with the smell of Cairo. It was quiet as they walked along, and now and again they passed
a man or sometimes two men standing back in the shadow of a house, leaning against the wall of
the house, smoking.
‘I say,’ said William, ‘ropey, what?’
‘Very,’ said Stuffy. ‘Very bad types.’
They walked on, the three of them walking abreast60; square short ginger-haired Stag, tall dark
Stuffy, and tall young William who went bareheaded because he had lost his cap. They headed
roughly towards the centre of the town where they knew that they would find a gharry to take
them on to Rosette.
Stuffy said, ‘Oh, won’t the girls be pleased when we rescue them?’
‘Jesus,’ said the Stag, ‘it ought to be a party.’
‘Does she actually keep them locked up?’ William said.
‘Well, no,’ said Stag. ‘Not exactly. But if we rescue them now, they won’t have to work any
more tonight anyway. You see, the girls she has at her place are nothing but ordinary shop girls
who still work during the day in the shops. They have all of them made some mistake or other
which Rosette either engineered or found out about, and now she has put the screws on them; she
makes them come along in the evening, But they hate her and they do not depend on her for a
living. They would kick her in the teeth if they got the chance.’
Stuffy said, ‘We’ll give them the chance.’
They crossed over a street. William said, ‘How many girls will there be there, Stag?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose there might be thirty.’
‘Good God,’ said William. ‘This will be a party. Does she really treat them very badly?’
The Stag said, ‘Thirty-three squadron told me that she pays them nothing, about twenty akkers a
night. She charges the customers a hundred or two hundred akkers each. Every girl earns for
Rosette between five hundred and a thousand akkers every night.’
‘Good God,’ said William. ‘A thousand piastres a night and thirty girls. She must be a
millionaire.’
‘She is. Someone calculated that not even counting her outside business, she makes the
equivalent of about fifteen hundred pounds a week. That’s, let me see, that’s between five and six
thousand pounds a month. Sixty thousand pounds a year.’
Stuffy came out of his dream. ‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘Jesus Christ. The filthy old Syrian Jewess.’
‘The lousy old bitch,’ said William.
They were coming into a more civilized61 section of the town, but still there were no gharries.
The Stag said, ‘Did you hear about Mary’s House?’
‘What’s Mary’s House?’ said William.
‘It’s a place in Alexandria. Mary is the Rosette of Alex.’
‘Lousy old bitch,’ said William.
‘No,’ Stag said. They say she’s a good woman. But anyway, Mary’s House was hit by a bomb
last week. The navy was in port at the time and the place was full of sailors, nautic types.’
‘Killed?’
‘Lots of them killed. And d’you know what happened? They posted them as killed in action.’
‘The Admiral is a gentleman,’ said Stuffy.
‘Magnificent,’ said William.
Then they saw a gharry and hailed it.
Stuffy said, ‘We don’t know the address,’
‘He’ll know it,’ said Stag. ‘Madame Rosette,’ he said to the driver.
The driver grinned and nodded. Then William said, ‘I’m going to drive. Give me the reins63,
driver, and sit up here beside me and tell me where to go,’
The driver protested vigorously, but when William gave him ten piastres, he gave him the reins.
William sat high up on the driver’s seat with the driver beside him. The Stag and Stuffy got in the
back of the carriage.
‘Take off,’ said Stuffy. William took off. The horses began to gallop64.
‘No good,’ shrieked65 the driver. ‘No good. Stop.’
‘Which way Rosette?’ shouted William.
‘Stop,’ shrieked the driver.
William was happy. ‘Rosette,’ he shouted. ‘Which way?’
The driver made a decision. He decided66 that the only way to stop this madman was to get him to
his destination. ‘This way,’ he shrieked. ‘Left.’ William pulled hard on the left rein62 and the horses
swerved67 around the corner. The gharry took it on one wheel.
‘Too much bank,’ shouted Stuffy from the back seat.
‘Which way now?’ shouted William.
‘Left,’ shrieked the driver. They took the next street to the left, then they took one to the right,
two more to the left, then one to the right again and suddenly the driver yelled, ‘Here pleess, here
Rosette. Stop.’
William pulled hard on the reins and gradually the horses raised their heads with the pulling and
slowed down to a trot68.
‘Where?’ said William.
‘Here,’ said the driver. ‘Pleess.’ He pointed to a house twenty yards ahead. William brought the
horses to a stop right in front of it.
‘Nice work, William,’ said Stuffy.
‘Jesus,’ said the Stag. ‘That was quick.’
‘Marvellous,’ said William. ‘Wasn’t it?’ He was very happy.
The driver was sweating through his shirt and he was too frightened to be angry.
William said. ‘How much?’
‘Pleess, twenty piastres.’
William gave him forty and said. ‘Thank you very much. Fine horses.’ The little man took the
money, jumped up on to the gharry, and drove off. He was in a hurry to get away.
They were in another of those narrow, dark streets, but the houses, what they could see of them,
looked huge and prosperous. The one which the driver had said was Rosette’s was wide and thick
and three storeys high, built of grey concrete, and it had a large thick front door which stood wide
open. As they went in, the Stag said, ‘Now leave this to me. I’ve got a plan.’
Inside there was a cold grey dusty stone hall, lit by a bare electric light bulb in the ceiling, and
there was a man standing in the hall. He was a mountain of a man, a huge Egyptian with a flat face
and two cauliflower ears. In his wrestling days he had probably been billed as Abdul the Killer69 or
The Poisonous Pasha, but now he wore a dirty white cotton suit.
The Stag said, ‘Good evening. Is Madame Rosette here?’
Abdul looked hard at the three pilots, hesitated, then said, ‘Madame Rosette top floor.’
‘Thank you,’ said Stag. ‘Thank you very much.’ Stuffy noticed that the Stag was being polite.
There was always trouble for somebody when he was like that. Back in the squadron, when he was
leading a flight, when they sighted the enemy and when there was going to be a battle, the Stag
never gave an order without saying ‘Please’ and he never received a message without saying
‘Thank you.’ He was saying ‘Thank you’ now to Abdul.
They went up the bare stone steps which had iron railings. They went past the first landing and
the second landing, and the place was as bare as a cave. At the top of the third flight of steps, there
was no landing; it was walled off, and the stairs ran up to a door. The Stag pressed the bell. They
waited a while, then a little panel in the door slid back and a pair of small black eyes peeked70
through. A woman’s voice said, ‘What you boys want?’ Both the Stag and Stuffy recognized the
voice from the telephone. The Stag said, ‘We would like to see Madame Rosette.’ He pronounced
the Madame in the French way because he was being polite.
‘You officers? Only officers here,’ said the voice. She had a voice like a broken board.
‘Yes,’ said Stag. ‘We are officers.’
‘You don’t look like officers. What kind of officers?’
‘RAF.’
There was a pause. The Stag knew that she was considering. She had probably had trouble with
pilots before, and he hoped only that she would not see William and the light that was dancing in
his eyes; for William was still feeling the way he had felt when he drove the gharry. Suddenly the
panel closed and the door opened.
‘All right, come in,’ she said. She was too greedy, this woman, even to pick her customers
carefully.
They went in and there she was. Short, fat, greasy, with wisps of untidy black hair straggling
over her forehead; a large, mud-coloured face, a large wide nose and a small fish mouth, with just
the trace of a black moustache above the mouth. She had on a loose black satin dress.
‘Come into the office, boys,’ she said, and started to waddle71 down the passage to the left. It was
a long wide passage, about fifty yards long and four or five yards wide. It ran through the middle
of the house, parallel with the street, and as you came in from the stairs, you had to turn left along
it. All the way down there were doors, about eight or ten of them on each side. If you turned right
as you came in from the stairs, you ran into the end of the passage, but there was one door there
too, and as the three of them walked in, they heard a babble72 of female voices from behind that
door. The Stag noted73 that it was the girls’ dressing74 room.
‘This way, boys,’ said Rosette. She turned left and slopped down the passage, away from the
door with the voices. The three followed her. Stag first, then Stuffy, then William, down the
passage which had a red carpet on the floor and huge pink lampshades hanging from the ceiling.
They got about halfway75 down the passage when there was a yell from the dressing room behind
them. Rosette stopped and looked around.
‘You go on, boys,’ she said, ‘into the office, last door on the left. I won’t be a minute.’ She
turned and went back towards the dressing-room door. They didn’t go on. They stood and watched
her, and just as she got to the door, it opened and a girl rushed out. From where they stood, they
could see that her fair hair was all over her face and that she had on an untidy-looking green
evening dress. She saw Rosette in front of her and she stopped. They heard Rosette say something,
something angry and quick spoken, and they heard the girl shout something back at her. They saw
Rosette raise her right arm and they saw her hit the girl smack76 on the side of the face with the
palm of her hand. They saw her draw back her hand and hit her again in the same place. She hit
her hard. The girl put her hands up to her face and began to cry. Rosette opened the door of the
dressing room and pushed her back inside.
‘Jesus,’ said the Stag. ‘She’s tough.’ William said, ‘So am I.’ Stuffy didn’t say anything.
Rosette came back to them and said, ‘Come along, boys. Just a bit of trouble, that’s all.’ She led
them to the end of the passage and in through the last door on the left. This was the office. It was a
medium-sized room with two red plush sofas, two or three red plush armchairs and a thick red
carpet on the floor. In one corner was a small desk, and Rosette sat herself behind it, facing the
room.
‘Sit down, boys,’ she said.
The Stag took an armchair, Stuffy and William sat on a sofa.
‘Well,’ she said, and her voice became sharp and urgent. ‘Let’s do business.’
The Stag leaned forward in his chair. His short ginger hair looked somehow wrong against the
bright red plush. ‘Madame Rosette,’ he said, ‘it is a great pleasure to meet you. We have heard so
much about you.’ Stuffy looked at the Stag. He was being polite again. Rosette looked at him too,
and her little black eyes were suspicious. ‘Believe me,’ the Stag went on, ‘we’ve really been
looking forward to this for quite a time now.’
His voice was so pleasant and he was so polite that Rosette took it.
‘That’s nice of you boys,’ she said. ‘You’ll always have a good time here. I see to that. Now –
business.’
William couldn’t wait any longer. He said slowly. ‘The Stag says that you’re a great woman.’
‘Thanks, boys.’
Stuffy said, ‘The Stag says that you’re a filthy old Syrian Jewess.’
William said quickly, ‘The Stag says that you’re a lousy old bitch.’
‘And I know what I’m talking about,’ said the Stag.
Rosette jumped to her feet. ‘What’s this?’ she shrieked, and her face was no longer the colour of
mud; it was the colour of red clay. The men did not move. They did not smile or laugh; they sat
quite still, leaning forward a little in their seats, watching her.
Rosette had had trouble before, plenty of it, and she knew how to deal with it. But this was
different. They didn’t seem drunk, it wasn’t about money and it wasn’t about one of her girls. It
was about herself and she didn’t like it.
‘Get out,’ she yelled. ‘Get out unless you want trouble,’ But they did not move.
For a moment she paused, then she stepped quickly from behind her desk and made for the
door. But the Stag was there first and when she went for him, Stuffy and William each caught one
of her arms from behind.
‘We’ll lock her in,’ said the Stag. ‘Let’s get out.’
Then she really started yelling and the words which she used cannot be written down on paper,
for they were terrible words. They poured out of her small fish mouth in one long unbroken high-
pitched stream, and little bits of spit and saliva77 came out with them. Stuffy and William pulled her
back by the arms towards one of the big chairs and she fought and yelled like a large fat pig being
dragged to the slaughter78. They got her in front of the chair and gave her a quick push so that she
fell backwards79 into it. Stuffy nipped across to her desk, bent80 down quickly and jerked the
telephone cord from its connection. The Stag had the door open and all three of them were out of
the room before Rosette had time to get up. The Stag had taken the key from the inside of the
door, and now he locked it. The three of them stood outside in the passage.
‘Jesus,’ said the Stag. ‘What a woman!’
‘Mad as hell,’ William said. ‘Listen to her.’
They stood outside in the passage and they listened. They heard her yelling, then she began
banging on the door, but she went on yelling and her voice was not the voice of a woman, it was
the voice of an enraged81 but articulate bull.
The Stag said, ‘Now quick. The girls. Follow me. And from now on you’ve got to act serious.
You’ve got to act serious as hell.’
He ran down the passage towards the dressing room, followed by Stuffy and William. Outside
the door he stopped, the other two stopped and they could still hear Rosette yelling from her office.
The Stag said, ‘Now don’t say anything. Just act serious as hell,’ and he opened the door and went
in.
There were about a dozen girls in the room. They all looked up. They stopped talking and
looked up at the Stag, who was standing in the doorway82. The Stag clicked his heels and said. ‘This
is the Military Police. Les Gendarmes83 Militaires.’ He said it in a stern voice and with a straight
face and he was standing there in the doorway at attention with his cap on his head. Stuffy and
William stood behind him.
‘This is the Military Police,’ he said again, and he produced his identification card and held it up
between two fingers.
The girls didn’t move or say anything. They stayed still in the middle of what they were doing
and they were like a tableau84 because they stayed so still. One had been pulling on a stocking and
she stayed like that, sitting on a chair with her leg out straight and the stocking up to her knee with
her hands on the stocking. One had been doing her hair in front of a mirror and when she looked
round she kept her hands up to her hair. One was standing up and had been applying lipstick85 and
she raised her eyes to the Stag but still held the lipstick to her mouth. Several were just sitting
around on plain wooden chairs, doing nothing, and they raised their heads and turned them to the
door, but they went on sitting. Most of them were in some sort of shiny evening dress, one or two
were half-clothed, but most of them were in shiny green or shiny blue or shiny red or shiny gold,
and when they turned to look at the Stag, they were so still that they were like a tableau.
The Stag paused. Then he said, ‘I am to state on behalf of the authorities that they are sorry to
disturb you. My apologies, mesd’moiselles. But it is necessary that you come with us for purposes
of registration86, et cetera. Afterwards you will be allowed to go. It is a mere47 formality. But now you
must come, please. I have conversed87 with Madame.’
The Stag stopped speaking, but still the girls did not move.
‘Please,’ said the Stag, ‘get your coats. We are the military.’ He stepped aside and held open the
door. Suddenly the tableau dissolved, the girls got up, puzzled and murmuring, and two or three of
them moved towards the door. The others followed. The ones that were half-clothed quickly
slipped into dresses, patted their hair with their hands and came too. None of them had coats.
‘Count them,’ said the Stag to Stuffy as they filed out of the door. Stuffy counted them aloud
and there were fourteen.
‘Fourteen, sir,’ said Stuffy, who was trying to talk like a sergeant-major.
The Stag said, ‘Correct,’ and he turned to the girls who were crowded in the passage. ‘Now,
mesd’moiselles, I have the list of your names from Madame, so please do not try to run away. And
do not worry. This is merely a formality of the military.’
William was out in the passage opening the door which led to the stairs, and he went out first.
The girls followed and the Stag and Stuffy brought up the rear. The girls were quiet and puzzled
and worried and a little frightened and they didn’t talk, none of them talked except for a tall one
with black hair who said, ‘Mon Dieu, a formality of the military. Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, what
next.’ But that was all and they went on down. In the hall they met the Egyptian who had a flat
face and two cauliflower ears. For a moment it looked as though there would be trouble. But the
Stag waved his identification card in his face and said. ‘The Military Police,’ and the man was so
surprised that he did nothing and let them pass.
And so they came out into the street and the Stag said, ‘It is necessary to walk a little way, but
only a very little way,’ and they turned right and walked along the sidewalk with the Stag leading,
Stuffy at the rear and William walking out on the road guarding the flank. There was some moon
now. One could see quite well and William tried to keep in step with Stag and Stuffy tried to keep
in step with William, and they swung their arms and held their heads up high and looked very
military, and the whole thing was a sight to behold88. Fourteen girls in shiny evening dresses,
fourteen girls in the moonlight in shiny green, shiny blue, shiny red, shiny black and shiny gold,
marching along the street with the Stag in front, William alongside and Stuffy at the rear. It was a
sight to behold.
The girls had started chattering89. The Stag could hear them, although he didn’t look around. He
marched on at the head of the column and when they came to the crossroads he turned right. The
others followed and they had walked fifty yards down the block when they came to an Egyptian
café. The Stag saw it and he saw the lights burning behind the blackout curtains. He turned around
and shouted ‘Halt!’ The girls stopped, but they went on chattering and anyone could see that there
was mutiny in the ranks. You can’t make fourteen girls in high heels and shiny evening dresses
march all over town with you at night, not for long anyway, not for long, even if it is a formality
of the military. The Stag knew it and now he was speaking.
‘Mesd’moiselles,’ he said, ‘listen to me.’ But there was mutiny in the ranks and they went on
talking and the tall one with dark hair was saying, ‘Mon Dieu, what is this? What in hell’s name
sort of a thing is this, oh mon Dieu?’
‘Quiet,’ said the Stag. ‘Quiet!’ and the second time he shouted it as a command. The talking
stopped.
‘Mesd’moiselles,’ he said, and now he became polite. He talked to them in his best way and
when the Stag was polite there wasn’t anyone who didn’t take it. It was an extraordinary thing
because he could make a kind of smile with his voice without smiling with his lips. His voice
smiled while his face remained serious. It was a most forcible thing because it gave people the
impression that he was being serious about being nice.
‘Mesd’moiselles,’ he said, and his voice was smiling. ‘With the military there always has to be
formality. It is something unavoidable. It is something that I regret exceedingly. But there can be
chivalry90 also. And you must know that with the RAF there is great chivalry. So now it will be a
pleasure if you will all come in here and take with us a glass of beer. It is the chivalry of the
military.’ He stepped forward, opened the door of the café and said, ‘Oh for God’s sake, let’s have
a drink. Who wants a drink?’
Suddenly the girls saw it all. They saw the whole thing as it was, all of them at once. It took
them by surprise. For a second they considered. Then they looked at one another, then they looked
at the Stag, then they looked around at Stuffy and at William, and when they looked at those two
they caught their eyes and the laughter that was in them. All at once the girls began to laugh and
William laughed and Stuffy laughed and they moved forward and poured into the café.
The tall one with dark hair took the Stag by the arm and said, ‘Mon Dieu, Military Police, mon
Dieu, oh mon Dieu,’ and she threw her head back and laughed and the Stag laughed with her.
William said, ‘It is the chivalry of the military,’ and they moved into the café.
The place was rather like the one that they had been in before, wooden and sawdusty, and there
were a few coffee-drinking Egyptians sitting around with the red tarbooshes on their heads.
William and Stuffy pushed three round tables together and fetched chairs. The girls sat down. The
Egyptians at the other tables put down their coffee cups, turned around in their chairs and gaped91.
They gaped like so many fat muddy fish, and some of them shifted their chairs round facing the
party so that they could get a better view and they went on gaping92.
A waiter came up and the Stag said, ‘Seventeen beers. Bring us seventeen beers.’ The waiter
said ‘Pleess’ and went away.
As they sat waiting for the drinks the girls looked at the three pilots and the pilots looked at the
girls. William said, ‘It is the chivalry of the military,’ and the tall dark girl said, ‘Mon Dieu, you
are crazy people, oh mon Dieu.’
The waiter brought the beer. William raised his glass and said, ‘To the chivalry of the military.’
The dark girl said, ‘Oh mon Dieu.’ Stuffy didn’t say anything. He was busy looking around at the
girls, sizing them up, trying to decide now which one he liked best so that he could go to work at
once. The Stag was smiling and the girls were sitting there in their shiny evening dresses, shiny
red, shiny gold, shiny blue, shiny green, shiny black and shiny silver, and once again it was almost
a tableau, certainly it was a picture, and the girls were sitting there sipping93 their beer, seeming
quite happy, not seeming suspicious any more because to them the whole thing now appeared
exactly as it was and they understood.
‘Jesus,’ said the Stag. He put down his glass and looked around him. ‘Oh Jesus, there’s enough
here for the whole squadron. How I wish the whole squadron was here!’ He took another drink,
stopped in the middle of it and put down his glass quickly. ‘I know what,’ he said. ‘Waiter, oh
waiter.’
‘Pleess.’
‘Get me a big piece of paper and a pencil.’
‘Pleess.’ The waiter went away and came back with a sheet of paper. He took a pencil from
behind his ear and handed it to the Stag. The Stag banged the table for silence.
‘Mesd’moiselles,’ he said, ‘for the last time there is a formality. It is the last of all the
formalities.’
‘Of the military,’ said William.
‘Oh mon Dieu,’ said the dark girl.
‘It is nothing,’ the Stag said. ‘You are required to write your name and your telephone number
on this piece of paper. It is for my friends in the squadron. It is so that they can be as happy as I
am now, but without the same trouble beforehand.’ The Stag’s voice was smiling again. One could
see that the girls liked his voice. ‘You would be very kind if you would do that,’ he went on, ‘for
they too would like to meet you. It would be a pleasure.’
‘Wonderful,’ said William.
‘Crazy,’ said the dark girl, but she wrote her name and number on the paper and passed it on.
The Stag ordered another round of beer. The girls certainly looked funny sitting there in their
dresses, but they were writing their names down on the paper. They looked happy and William
particularly looked happy, but Stuffy looked serious because the problem of choosing was a
weighty one and it was heavy on his mind. They were good-looking girls, young and good-
looking, all different, completely different from each other because they were Greek and Syrian
and French and Italian and light Egyptian and Yugoslav and many other things, but they were
good-looking, all of them were good-looking and handsome.
The piece of paper had come back to the Stag now and they had all written on it; fourteen
strangely written names and fourteen telephone numbers. The Stag looked at it slowly. ‘This will
go on the squadron notice-board,’ he said, ‘and I will be regarded as a great benefactor94.’
William said, ‘It should go to headquarters. It should be mimeographed and circulated to all
squadrons. It would be good for morale95.’
‘Oh mon Dieu,’ said the dark girl. ‘You are crazy.’
Slowly Stuffy got to his feet, picked up his chair, carried it round to the other side of the table
and pushed it between two of the girls. All he said was ‘Excuse me. Do you mind if I sit here?’ At
last he had made up his mind, and now he turned towards the one on his right and quietly went to
work. She was very pretty; very dark and very pretty and she had plenty of shape. Stuffy began to
talk to her, completely oblivious96 to the rest of the company, turning towards her and leaning his
head on his hand. Watching him, it was not so difficult to understand why he was the greatest pilot
in the squadron. He was a young concentrator, this Stuffy; an intense athletic97 concentrator who
moved towards what he wanted in a dead straight line. He took hold of winding98 roads and
carefully he made them straight, then he moved over them with great speed and nothing stopped
him. He was like that, and now he was talking to the pretty girl but no one could hear what he was
saying.
Meanwhile the Stag was thinking. He was thinking about the next move, and when everyone
was getting towards the end of their third beer, he banged the table again for silence.
‘Mesd’moiselles,’ he said. ‘It will be a pleasure for us to escort you home. I will take five of
you,’ – he had worked it all out – ‘Stuffy will take five, and Jamface will take four. We will take
three gharries and I will take five of you in mine and I will drop you home one at a time.’
William said, ‘It is the chivalry of the military.’
‘Stuffy,’ said the Stag. ‘Stuffy, is that all right? You take five. It’s up to you whom you drop off
last.’
Stuffy looked around. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Oh yes. That suits me.’
‘William, you take four. drop them home one by one; you understand.’
‘Perfectly99,’ said William. ‘Oh perfectly.’
They all got up and moved towards the door. The tall one with dark hair took the Stag’s arm
and said, ‘You take me?’
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘I take you.’
‘You drop me off last?’
‘Yes. I drop you off last.’
‘Oh mon Dieu,’ she said. That will be fine.’
Outside they got three gharries and they split up into parties. Stuffy was moving quickly. He got
his girls into the carriage quickly, climbed in after them and the Stag saw the gharry drive off
down the street. Then he saw William’s gharry move off, but it seemed to start away with a sudden
jerk, with the horses breaking into a gallop at once. The Stag looked again and he saw William
perched high up on the driver’s seat with the reins in his hands.
The Stag said, ‘Let’s go,’ and his five girls got into their gharry. It was a squash, but everyone
got in. The Stag sat back in his seat and then he felt an arm pushing up and under and linking with
his. It was the tall one with dark hair. He turned and looked at her.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Hello, you.’
‘Ah,’ she whispered. ‘You are such goddam crazy people.’ And the Stag felt a warmness inside
him and he began to hum a little tune100 as the gharry rattled101 on through the dark streets.
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1
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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2
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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3
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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4
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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5
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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6
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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7
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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8
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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9
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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10
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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11
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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12
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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13
scorpion
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| n.蝎子，心黑的人，蝎子鞭 | |
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14
scorpions
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| n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
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15
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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16
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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17
beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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18
premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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19
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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20
exhorting
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| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的现在分词 ) | |
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21
boxers
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| n.拳击短裤；（尤指职业）拳击手( boxer的名词复数 )；拳师狗 | |
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22
extolling
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| v.赞美( extoll的现在分词 )；赞颂，赞扬，赞美( extol的现在分词 ) | |
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23
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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24
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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25
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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26
consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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27
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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28
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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29
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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30
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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31
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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32
eligible
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| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
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33
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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34
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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35
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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36
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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37
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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38
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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39
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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40
petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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41
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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42
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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43
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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44
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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45
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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46
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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47
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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48
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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49
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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50
tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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51
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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52
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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53
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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54
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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55
hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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56
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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57
bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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58
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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59
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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60
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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61
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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62
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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63
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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64
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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65
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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67
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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69
killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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70
peeked
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| v.很快地看( peek的过去式和过去分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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71
waddle
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| vi.摇摆地走；n.摇摆的走路(样子) | |
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72
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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73
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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74
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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75
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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76
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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77
saliva
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| n.唾液，口水 | |
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78
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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79
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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80
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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81
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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82
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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83
gendarmes
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| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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84
tableau
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| n.画面，活人画（舞台上活人扮的静态画面） | |
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85
lipstick
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| n.口红，唇膏 | |
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86
registration
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| n.登记，注册，挂号 | |
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87
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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88
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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89
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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90
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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91
gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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92
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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93
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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94
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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95
morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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96
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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97
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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98
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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99
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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100
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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101
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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