immobile, the lipless slit of mouth turned pale and the blue eyes
glared.
Let me determine what is fair. I know her as you never can, I know what
she feels and what she is thinking. If you offer her a chance of sight,
you will create for her the same dilemma in which I have been trapped
since the possibility first arose. I would spare her that. 'I do not
understand you, the Brig said stiffly. The hostility between them was a
tangible essence that seemed to fill the room with the feel of thunder
on a summer's day.
Then let me explain, David held his eyes, refusing to be brow-beaten by
this fierce and thrusting old warrior. Your daughter and I have
achieved an extraordinary state of happiness.
The Brig inclined his head, acknowledging. Yes, I will accept your word
for that, but it is an artificial state.
It's a hot-house thing, reared in isolation, it has no relation to the
real world. It's a dream state.
David felt his anger begin to shake the foundations of his reason. He
found it offensive that anybody should speak of Debra and his life in
those terms, but at the same time he could see the justification.
You may say so, sir. But for Debra and me, it is very real. it is
something of tremendous value. The Brig was silent now.
I will tell you truly that I thought long and hard before I admitted
that there was a chaance for Debra, and even then I would have hidden it
for my own selfish happiness, You still do not make sense. How can
Debra regaining her sight affect you?
Look at me, said David softly, and the Brig glared at him ferociously,
expecting more, but when nothing further came his expression eased and
he did look at David, for the first time truly seeing the terribly
ravaged head, the obscene travesty of human shape, and suddenly he
thought on it from David's side, whereas before he had considered it
only as a father.
His eyes dropped and he turned to replenish his whisky glass.
If I can give her sight, I will do it. Even though it will be an
expensive gift for me, she must take it. David felt his voice
trembling. But I believe that she loves me enough to spurn it, if she
were ever given the choice. I do not want her ever to be tortured by
that choice. The Brig lifted his glass and took a deep swallow, half
the contents at a gulp.
As you wish, he acquiesced, and it may have been the whisky, but his
voice sounded husky with an emotion David had never suspected before.
Thank you, sir. David set down his own glass, still untasted. If
you'll excuse me, I think I should go and change now. He moved to the
door.
David! the Brig called to him and he turned back.
The gold tooth gleamed in the dark bristly patch of mustache, as the
Brig smiled a strangely embarrassed but gentle smile.
You'll do, he said.
The reception was in the banquet-room at the Heerengracht Hotel, and as
David and Debra rode up together in the elevator, she seemed to sense
his dread, for she squeezed his arm.
Stay close to me tonight, she murmured. I'll need you, and he knew it
was said to distract him and he was grateful to her. They would be a
freak show, and even though he was sure most of the guests had been
prepared, yet he knew it would be an ordeal. He leaned to brush her
cheek with his.
Her hair was loose and soft, very dark and glossy and the sun had gilded
her face to gold. She wore a plain green sheath that fell in simple
lines to the floor, but left her arms and shoulders bare. They were
strong and smooth, with the special lustre of the skin highlighting the
smooth flow of her flesh.
She wore little make-up, a light touch on the lips only, and the serene
expression of her eyes enhanced the simple grace of her carriage as she
moved on his arm, giving David just that courage he needed to face the
crowded room.
it was an elegant gathering, women in rich silks and jewellery, the men
dark-suited, with the heaviness of body and poise which advertises power
and wealth, but the Brig stood out amongst them, even in a civilian
suit, lean and hard where they were plump and complacent like a falcon
amongst a flock of pheasants.
He brought Reuben Friedman to them and introduced them casually. He was
a short heavily built man, with a big alert head seeming out of
proportion to his body.
His hair was cropped short and grizzled to the round skull, but David
found himself liking the bright bird eyes and the readiness of his
smile. His hand was warm, but dry and firm. Debra was drawn to, him
also, and smiled when she picked up the timbre of his voice and the
essential warmth of his personality.
As they went into dinner, she asked David what he looked like, and
laughed with delight when he replied.
Like a koala bear, and they were talking easily together before the fish
course was served. Friedman's wife, a slim girl with horned-rimmed
spectacles, neither beautiful nor plain, but with her husband's
forthright friendly manner, leaned across him to join the conversation
and David heard her say, Won't you come to lunch tomorrow? If you can
stand a brood of squalling kids. We don't usually, Debra replied, but
David could hear her wavering, and she turned to him.
May we -? 'and he agreed and then they were laughing like old friends,
but David was silent and withdrawn, knowing it was all subterfuge and
suddenly oppressed by the surging chorus of human voices and the clatter
of cutlery. He found himself longing for the night silence of the
bushveld, and the solitude which was not solitude with Debra to share
it.
When the master of ceremonies rose to introduce the speaker, David found
it an intense relief to know the ordeal was drawing to a close and he
could soon hurry away with Debra to hide from the prying, knowing eyes.
The introductory speech was smooth and professional, the jokes raised a
chuckle, but it lacked substance, five minutes after you would not
remember what had been said.
Then the Brig rose and looked about him with a kind of Olympian scorn,
the warrior's contempt for the soft men, and though these rich and
powerful men seemed to quail beneath the stare, yet David sensed that
they enjoyed it. They derived some strange vicarious pleasure from this
man. He was a figurehead, he gave to them a deep confidence, a point on
which their spirits could rally. He was one of them, and yet apart. it
seemed that he was a storehouse of the race's pride and strength.
Even David was surprised by the power that flowed from the lean old
warrior, the compelling presence with which he filled the huge room and
dominated his audience. He seemed immortal and invincible, and David's
own emotions stirred, his own pulse quickened and he found himself
carried along on the flood.
but for all of this there is a price to pay. Part of this price is
constant vigil, constant readiness. Each of us is ready at any moment
to answer the call to the defence of what is ours, and each of us must
be ready to make without question whatever sacrifice is demanded. This
can be life itself, or something every bit as dear Suddenly David
realized that the Brig had singled him out, and that they were staring
at each other across the room. The Brig was sending him a message of
strength, of courage, but it was misinterpreted by others in the
gathering.
They saw the silent exchange between the two men, and many of them knew
that David's terrible disfigurement and Debra's blindness were wounds of