"Correct, Hadlow. I see you have mastered our present predicament admirably."
The manager allowed himself a smile. "Given the circumstances, Sir Danvers, I feel we could indeed advance such a loan, if a charge of four percent interest per annum would be acceptable to you and your colleagues."
Again the colonel hesitated, until he caught Becky's half smile.
"Our present bankers provide us with a facility of three and a half percent," said the colonel. "As I'm sure you know."
"But they are taking no risk," pointed out Mr. Hadlow. "As well as refusing to allow you to be overdrawn more than fifty pounds. However," he added before the colonel could reply, "I feel in this particular case we might also offer three and a half percent. How does that sound to you?"
The colonel did not comment until he had observed the expression on Becky's face. Her smile had widened to a grin.
"I think I speak for my colleagues, Hadlow, when I say we find your proposition acceptable, most acceptable."
Becky and Charlie nodded their agreement.
"Then I shall begin to process all the paperwork. It may take a few days, of course."
"Of course," said the colonel. "And I can tell you, Hadlow, that we look forward to a long and profitable association with your bank."
The manager somehow rose and bowed all in one movement, an action Becky felt even Sir Henry Irving would have found difficult to accomplish.
Mr. Hadlow then proceeded to escort the colonel and his young associates to the front hall.
"Old Chubby Duckworth still with this outfit?" inquired the colonel.
"Lord Duckworth is indeed our chairman," murmured Mr. Hadlow, reverentially.
"Good man—served with him in South Africa. Royal Rifles. I shall, with your permission, mention our meeting to him, when I next see Chubby at the club."
"That would be most kind of you, Sir Danvers."
When they reached the door the manager dispensed with his assistant and helped the colonel on with his topcoat himself, then handed him his hat and cane before bidding farewell to his new customers. "Do feel free to call me at any time," were his final words as he bowed once again. He stood there until the three of them were out of sight.
Once they were back on the street the colonel marched quickly round the corner, coming to a halt behind the nearest tree. Becky and Charlie ran after him, not quite sure what he was up to.
"Are you feeling all right, sir?" Charlie asked, as soon as he had caught up.
"I'm fine, Trumper," replied the colonel. Just fine. But I can tell you, I would rather face a bunch of marauding Afghan natives than go through that again. Still, how did I do?"
"You were magnificent," said Becky. "I swear, if you had taken off your shoes and told Hadlow to polish them, he would have removed his handkerchief and started rubbing little circles immediately."
The colonel smiled. "Oh, good. Thought it went all right, did you?"
"Perfect," said Becky. "You couldn't have done better. I shall go round to John D. Wood this afternoon and put down the deposit on both shops."
"Thank God for your briefing, Miss Salmon," said the colonel, standing his full height. "You know what? You would have made a damned fine staff officer."
Becky smiled. "I take that as a great compliment, Colonel."
"Don't you agree, Trumper? Some partner you've found yourself," he added.
"Yes, sir," said Charlie as the colonel began to stride off down the road swinging his umbrella. "But may I ask you something that's been worrying me?"
"Of course, Trumper, fire away."
"If you're a friend of the chairman of the bank," said Charlie, matching him stride for stride, "why didn't we go direct to him in the first place?"
The colonel came to a sudden halt. "My dear Trumper," he explained, "you don't visit the chairman of the bank when you require a loan of only two hundred and fifty pounds. Nevertheless, let it be said that I have every confidence that it will not be long before we shall need to seek him out. However, at this very moment other needs are more pressing."
"Other needs?" said Charlie.
"Yes, Trumper. I require a whisky, don't you know?" said the colonel, eyeing a sign flapping above a pub on the opposite side of the road. "And while we're at it, let's make it a double."
"How far gone are you?" asked Charlie, when the following day Becky came round to tell him the news.
"About four months." She avoided looking him directly in the eye.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He sounded a little hurt as he turned the open sign to closed, and marched up the stairs.
"I hoped I wouldn't need to," said Becky as she followed him into the flat.
"You've written to tell Trentham, of course?"
"No. I keep meaning to, but I haven't got round to it yet." She began to tidy up the room rather than face him.
"Keep meaning to?" said Charlie. "You should have told the bastard weeks ago. He's the first person who ought to know. After all, he's the one who's responsible for the bleedin' mess, if you'll excuse the expression."
"It's not that easy, Charlie."
"Why not, for heaven's sake?"
"It would mean the end of his career, and Guy lives for the regiment. He's like your coloneclass="underline" it would be unfair to ask him to give up being a soldier at the age of twenty-three."
"He's nothing like the colonel," said Charlie. "in any case, he's still young enough to settle down and do a day's work like the rest of us."
"He's married to the army, Charlie, not to me. Why ruin both our lives?"
"But he should still be told what has happened and at least be given the choice."
"He wouldn't be left with any choice, Charlie, surely you see that? He'd sail home on the next boat and marry me. He's an honorable man."
"An honorable man, is he?" said Charlie. "Well, if he's so honorable you can afford to promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"You'll write to him tonight and tell him the truth." Becky hesitated for some time before saying, "All right I will."
"Tonight?"
"Yes, tonight."
"And you should also let his parents know while you're at it."
"No, I can't be expected to do that, Charlie," she said, facing him for the first time.
"So what's the reason this time? Some fear that their careers might be ruined?"
"No, but if I did his father would insist that Guy return home and marry me."
"And what's so wrong with that?"
"His mother would then claim that I had tricked her son into the whole thing, or worse—"
"Worse?"
"—that it wasn't even his child."
"And who'd believe her?"
"All those who wanted to."
"But that isn't fair," said Charlie.
"Life isn't, to quote my father. I had to grow up some time, Charlie. For you it was the Western Front."
"So what are we going to do now?"
"We?" said Becky.
"Yes, we. We're still partners, you know. Or had you forgotten?"
"To start with I'll have to find somewhere else to live; it wouldn't be fair to Daphne—"
"What a friend she's turned out to be," said Charlie.
"To both of us," said Becky as Charlie stood up, thrust his hands in his pockets, and began to march around the little room. It reminded Becky of when they had been at school together.
"I don't suppose . . ." said Charlie. It was his turn to be unable to look her in the face.
"Suppose? Suppose what?"
"I don't suppose . . ." he began again.
"Yes?"
"You'd consider marrying me?"