«So what are you talking about?»
«What we have to do is get you to the States,» he said. «Once you're in the States, we can get married. I won't be the first Marine officer with a foreign-born wife. And I really want to stay in the Corps.»
«You're dreaming the impossible. Didn't your consul general tell you what we both know? I can't get into the United States on a Nansen passport.»
«That's where good old Uncle Zach comes in with his special law,» Ed said. «My father's cable said that he had gone to see Uncle Zach, and Uncle Zach came on board.»
«Your Uncle Zach has political connections?»
«He's not really my uncle. He and my father were classmates at The Citadel. But I've known him all of my life.»
«But he has political connections?»
«The Honorable Zachary W. Westminister III has the honor to be the Representative to the Congress of the United States from the Third Congressional District of the great state of South Carolina.»
«And he will help?»
«The way my father sounded, it's a done deal. It won't happen next week, but it can be done.»
Oh, Holy Mary; Mother of God, is it possible ? Has the wheel stopped spinning and the ball really dropped into my hole ?
Milla started to weep.
He raised his head to look down at her and saw the tears running down her cheeks.
«Hey,» he asked, very tenderly, touching her cheek with his fingers. «What's that all about?»
«Ed, I want so much to believe, but I'm so afraid.»
«I told you. baby, the Marines have landed, and the situation is well in hand.»
«What does that 'Marines have landed' mean?» she asked, confused.
«It means that between now and the time the next Pan American Clipper leaves for the States, we have to go to the legation and get certified true copies made of all your documents, including your Nansen passport and what they call a 'narrative of the circumstances' by which you wound up here. Then we stuff everything in an airmail envelope and send it off to Uncle Zach. Who will get a special law passed for us.»
«Really, Ed? This can be done?»
«Really, baby. It will be done.»
Believe the dream. Why not? A dream is all I have.
She kissed his chest.
«But we don't have to do that right now,» Ed said. «And, anyway, I see that something else has come up we're going to have to do something about.»
«Excuse me?» Milla asked, looking up at him.
He pointed to his midsection.
«Oh,» she said.
«Does that suggest anything to you?» he asked.
Milla put her hand on him, rolled over onto her back, and guided him into her.
note 2
They had three months together.
Without telling Ed. Milla went to her Russian Orthodox priest. Father Boris didn't have a church. He supported himself exchanging one foreign currency for another. He'd even shaved his beard and wore a suit so that he would look like a respectable businessman. But before the Revolution, he had been a priest at St. Matthew's in St. Petersburg. She didn't remember him there—she had been too young—but he remembered her family, and he had buried both her father and her mother here in Shanghai with the holy rites of the church. Several times, when he looked particularly desperate when she saw him on the street, she had given him a little money, and once, a little drunk on the anniversary of her mother's death, she had gone into the hem of her mother's girdle and taken a stone from it—one of the small rubies—and given it to him «for the poor.»
When they met, he called her «Countess»; and when she asked, he heard her confession. She was having carnal relations, she told him. And while she was sorry to sin, she was not ashamed, for she loved the man very much.
Since she was not willing to swear an oath to break off the sinful relationship, Father Boris could not grant her absolution. But she believed him when he told her he was sorry. «Your sin is now between yourself and God,» he went on to say, «and you will have to answer to him.»
That was all right with Milla. She didn't see how a merciful God could be angry with her for being in love. God had to know that she and Ed would already be married, if that had been possible. And just as soon as it was possible, she would marry him, and be a good and faithful wife to him.
In a sense, they
were
married. She didn't feel like a mistress, even though, after the first week, she slept more in Ed's apartment than her own.
In time, a letter came from the congressman, acknowledging receipt of her documents, and advising Ed that he would move on the special bill as quickly as he could, but that it was going to take time.
A very nice letter also came from Ed's mother. «You must really be a special person,» she wrote, «because we had always assumed that Ed was married to the Marine Corps until we got the wire from him announcing your engagement…
Meanwhile,» the letter continued, «we're anxiously waiting for you to come to the States. When you arrive, why don't you plan on living in our house with us, for the time being at least. There's plenty of room, and I look forward to the company.» She signed the letter, «with much love to my new daughter-to-be.»
With one exception, she didn't meet any of Ed's fellow Marines. She understood why. Theirs was an inappropriate relationship in the eyes of the United States Corps of Marines.
The one Marine she met, a corporal, was a very strange young man. One morning Ed asked her if she would prepare a little dinner party for this young man. The next day he was returning to the United States.
She was happy to do that. She roasted a chicken, made blini and rice, found some nice wine, and even, since it was a farewell party, a bottle of French champagne.
When Ed introduced the young man to her—his name was McCoy—the one thing Milla most noticed about him was his cold eyes. He also looked as though he didn't approve of the inappropriate relationship. And a few moments later, when Ed told him to relax and take off his uniform tunic, Milla was startled to see that McCoy was wearing a nasty-looking dagger strapped to his left arm, between his hand and his elbow.
She was also surprised that he spoke better Chinese—Wu, Mandarin, and Cantonese—than Ed did, and even knew a few words of Russian.
He didn't stay long after dinner; and when he left, Milla asked Ed if the rules were different in the U.S. Corps of Marines than in Russia. Could officers have friends who were common soldiers?
«The Killer's not a common soldier, honey,» Ed said. «Not even a common Marine. And, though he doesn't know it yet, he's going to be an officer. He thinks he's being reassigned. But I've arranged for him to go to Officer Candidate School.»
» 'Killer'? What's that mean?»
«He hates to be called that,» Ed told her, «but the truth of the matter is that he's killed a lot of people. Around the Fourth Marines, he's something of a legend.»
He went on to explain that he had met McCoy when assigned to defend him against a court-martial double charge of murder. What had actually happened was that four Italian Marines had ambushed McCoy—Ed had had to define the word for her—and he had killed two of them with his knife. «It was self-defense,» Ed said. «But I thought he was going to go to prison anyway. It was the word of the two surviving Italians against his, and they said he had attacked them.»