«I can’t tell you how kind I think you are,» she said when she had a whiskey-soda in her hand. «So few men have any true kindness left these days. I remember my father — what a magnificent man he was! I wish you could have known him — he used to say that the concept of nobility was fast disappearing from the face of the earth. I didn’t know what he meant then, of course, but I do now, and, God, how heartily I agree with him! And nobility and kindness go together. You may not be noble — who knows? — but you certainly can’t deny that it was damned kind of you to go out of your way to meet me when I had told you beforehand that I expected a favor of you».
He kept looking at her. She was too old, that was all. Every now and then, in the midst of the constantly changing series of expressions assumed by the volatile features, there was a dead instant when he saw the still, fixed disappointment of age beneath. It chilled him. He thought of the consistency of Hadija’s flesh and skin, telling himself that to do so was scarcely just; the girl was not more than sixteen. Still, there were the facts. He considered the compensations of character and worldly refinement, but did they really count for much? He was inclined to think not, in such cases. «Nothing doing there,» he thought. Or perhaps yes, if he had a lot of liquor in him. But why bother? He wondered why the idea had ever come to him, at all. There was no reason to think it had occurred to her, for that matter, save that he was sure it had.
The favor proved to be absurdly simple, he thought. He was merely to fill out a certain form in her name; he would find plenty of such forms in the office. This he was to send, along with a letter written on paper with the agency’s letterhead, to the receptionist at the Mamounia Hotel in Marrakech, saying that a Mme. Werth’s reservation for the twentieth of January had been canceled and that the room was to be reserved instead for the Marquise de Valverde. He was then to send her the duplicate of the filled-out form.
«Can you remember all that?» she said, leaning over the table toward him. «I think you’re quite the most angelic man I know». He was making notes on a tiny pad. «During the season the Mamounia is just a little harder to get into than Heaven».
When he had it all written down he drained his glass and leaned over toward her, so that their foreheads were only a few inches apart. «I’ll be delighted to do this for you» — he hesitated and felt himself growing red in the face. «I don’t know what to call you. You know — the title. It’s not Mrs. de Valverde. But I don’t know» —
«If you’re wise you’ll call me Daisy».
He felt she was amusing herself at his expense. «Well, fine,» he said. «What I was going to say is, I’m only too glad to do this for you. But wouldn’t Jack be the man to do it? I’m just an ignoramus in the office so far».
She put her hand on his arm. «Oh, my God! Don’t breathe a word of it to Jack, you silly boy! Why do you think I came to you in the first place? Oh, good God, no! He’s not to know about it, naturally. I thought you understood that».
Dyar was disturbed. He said very slowly: «Oh, hell,» emphasizing the second word. «I don’t know about that».
«Jack’s such an old maid about such things. It’s fantastic, the way he runs that office. No, no. I’ll give you the check for the deposit and you simply send it along with the letter and the form». She felt in her bag and brought forth a folded check. «It’s all made out to the hotel. They’ll understand that that’s because the agency has already made its commission at the time the original reservation was made for Mme. Werth. Don’t you see?»
What she was saying seemed logical, but none of it made any sense to him. If it had to be kept secret from Wilcox, then there was more to it than she admitted. She saw him running it over in his mind. «As I told you today,» she said «you’re not to feel under the least pressure about it. It’s terribly unimportant, really, and I’m a beast even to have mentioned it to you. If someone else gets the reservation I can easily go to Agadir for my fortnight’s rest. Please don’t feel that I’m relying on your gallantry to do it for me».
Brusquely he cut her short. «I’ll do it the first thing tomorrow morning and get it off my mind». He was suddenly extremely tired. He felt a million miles away. She went on talking; it was inevitable. But eventually he caught the waiter’s eye and paid the bill.
«I have a car down the street,» she said. «Where would you like to go?» He thanked her and said he was going to stop into the nearest restaurant for dinner. When she had finally gone, he walked blindly along the street for a while, swearing under his breath now and then. After his dinner he managed to find his way to the Hotel de la Playa. Even with the electricity on, the place was dim and shadowy. He went to bed and fell asleep listening to the waves breaking on the beach.
In the morning there was a watery sky; a tin-colored gleam lay on the harbor. Dyar had awakened at eight-thirty and was rushing through his toilet, hoping not to arrive too late at the Atlantide. Daisy de Valverde’s request still puzzled him; it was illogical. It occurred to him that perhaps it was merely part of some complicated scheme of hers — a scheme for encouraging an imagined personal interest in her. Or maybe she thought she was flattering his vanity in appealing to him instead of to Wilcox. But even so, the mechanics of the procedure troubled him. He resolved not to think about it, merely to get it done as quickly as possible.
Wilcox looked perturbed, took no notice of his lateness. «Have some coffee?» he asked, and indicated his breakfast tray. There was no extra cup. «I’ll have it in a few minutes, thanks, across the street». Wilcox did not press him, but got back into bed and lit a cigarette.
«I have an idea the best thing right now would be for you to learn a little something,» he said meditatively. «You’re not of much use to me in the office as you are». Dyar stiffened, waited, not breathing. «I’ve got a lot of reading matter here that it would help a lot for you to know pretty much by heart. Take it on home and study it for a while — a week or so, let’s say — and then come back and I’ll give you a little test on it». He saw Dyar’s face, read the question. «With salary. Don’t worry — you’re working. I told you that yesterday. As of yesterday». Dyar relaxed a little, but not enough. «The whole thing smells,» he thought, and he wanted to say: «Can’t anyone in this town tell the truth?» Instead, he decided to be a little bit devious himself for a change, thinking that otherwise he would not be able to get Daisy de Valverde’s hotel reservation.
«I’d like to go over to the office for a few minutes and finish typing a letter I was writing last night. Shall I go and get those keys you’re having made for me?»
He thought Wilcox looked uncomfortable. «To tell the truth, I don’t think there’ll be time,» he replied. «I’m going over there now, and I’ll be pretty busy there all day. For several days, in fact. A lot of unexpected work that’s come up. It’s another good reason for you to take this time off now and study up on the stuff. It fits in perfectly with my schedule. Those keys like as not wouldn’t be ready anyway. They never have things when they promise them here».
Dyar took the pile of papers and booklets Wilcox handed him, started to go out, and standing in the open doorway said: «What day shall I get in touch with you?» (He hoped that somehow the words would have ironic overtones; he also hoped Wilcox would say: «Ring me up every day and I’ll let you know how things are going».)