of house that has no mercy-a broken tricycle stood in the hall and somebody had broken his favourite pipe; and there was a child's shirt in the living-room waiting for a button to be sewn on. 'Private reasons': drinking in the Press Club I wouldn't want to be reminded by their jokes of Phuong.
There was a knock on the door. I opelied it to Pyle and his black dog walked in ahead of him. Pyle looked over my shoulder and found the room empty. "I'm alone," I said.
"Phuong is with her sister." He blushed. I noticed that he was wearing a Hawaii shirt,*
even though it wascompara-lively restrained in colour and design. I was surprised: had he been accused of un-American activities? He said. "I hope I haven't interrupted. . ." "Of course not. Have a drink?" "Thanks. Beer?"
"Sorry. We haven't a frig*-we send out for ice. What about a Scotch?"
"A small one, if you don't mind. I'm not very keen on hard liquor."
"On the rocks?"*
"Plenty of soda-if you aren't short." I said, "I haven't seen you since Phat Diem." "You got my note, Thomas?"
When he used my Christian name, it was like a declaration that he hadn't been humorous, that he hadn't been covering up, that he was here to get Phuong. I noticed that his crew-cut had recently been trimmed; was even the Hawaii shirt serving the function of male plumage?
"I got your note," I said. "I suppose I ought to knock you down."
"Of course," he said, "you'ye every right, Thomas. But I did boxing at college-and I'm so much younger." "No, it wouldn't be a good move for me, would it?" "You know, Thomas (I'm sure you feel the same), I don't like discussing Phuong behind her back. I thought she would be here."
"Well, what shall we discuss-plastic?" I hadn't meant to surprise him. He said, "You know about that?" "Phuong told me." "How could she. . .?"
"You can be sure it's all over the town. What's important about it? Are you going into the toy business?"
"We don't like the details of our aid to get around. You know what 'Congress is like-and then one has visiting Senators. We had a lot of trouble about our trachoma teams becase they were using one drug instead of another." "I still don't understand the plastic." His black dog sat on the floor taking up too much room, panting its tongue looked like a burnt pancake. Pyle said vaguely, "Oh, you know, we want to get some of these local industries on their feet, and we have to be careful of the French. They want everything bought in France." "I don't blame them. A war needs money." "Do you like dogs?" "No."
"I thought the British were great dog lovers." "We think Americans love dollars, but there must be exceptions."
"I don't know how I'd get along without Duke. You know, sometimes I feel so darned lonely. . . ." "You've got a great many companions in your branch."
"The first dog I ever had was called Prince. I called him after the Black Prince.* You know, the fellow who.. ." "Massacred all the women and children in Limoges."
"I don't remember that." "The history books gloss it over." I was to see many times that look of pain and disappointment touch his eyes and mouth, when reality didn't isatch the romantic ideas he cherished, or when someone he loved or admired dropped below the impossible standard he had set. Once, I remember, I caught York Harding out in a gross error of fact, and I had to comfort him: "It's human to make mistakes." He had laughed nervously and said, "You must think me a fool, but-well, I almost thought him infallible." He added, "My father,took to him* a lot the only time they met, and my father's darned difficult to please." The big black dog called Duke, having panted long
enough to establish a kind of right to the air, began to poke about the room. "Could you ask your dog to be still?" I said.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Duke. Duke. Sit down, Duke." Duke sat down and began noisily to lick his private parts. I filled our glasses and managed in passing to disturb Duke's toilet. The quiet lasted a very short time; he began to scratch himself.
"Duke's awfully intelligent," said Pyle. "What happened to Prince?"
"We were down on the farm in Connecticut* and he got run over." "Were you upset?"
"Oh, I minded a lot. He meant a great deal to me, but one has to be sensible. Nothing could bring him back." "And if you lose Phuong, will you be sensible?" "Oh yes, I hope so. And you?"
"I doubt it. I might even run amok. Have you thought about that, Pyle?" "I wish you'd call me Alden, Thomas." "I'd rather not. Pyle has got-associations. Have you thought about it?"
"Of course I haven't. You're the straightest guy I've ever known. When I remember how you behaved when I barged in..."*
"I remember thinking before I went to sleep how convenient it would be if there were an attack and you were killed. A hero's death. For Democracy."
"Don't laugh at me, Thomas." He shifted his long limbs uneasily. "I must seem a bit dumb to you, but I know when you're kidding." "I'm not."
"I know if you come clean* you want what's best for her." It was then I heard Phuong's step. I had hoped against
hope that he would have gone before she returned-He heard it too and recognised it. He said, "There she is," although he had had only one evening to learn her footfall. Even the dog got up and stood by the door, which I had left open for coolness, almost as though he accepted her as one of Pyle's family. I was an intruder.
Phuong said, "My sister was not in," and looked guar-dedly at Pyle. I wondered whether she were telling the truth or whether her sister had ordered her to hurry back. "You remember M. Pyle?" I said. "Enchantee."*Shewas on her best behaviour. "I'm so pleased to see you again," he said, blushing. "Comment?" . "Her English is not very good," I said. "I'm afraid my French is awful. I'm taking lessons though..And lean understand--if Miss Phuong will speak slowly." '
. .
"I'll act as interpreter," I said. "The local accent takes some getting used to. Now what do you want to say? Sit down, Phuong. M. Pyle has come specially to see you. Are you sure," I added to Pyle, "that you wouldn't like me to leave you two alone?"
"I want you to hear everything I have to say. I wouldn't be fair otherwise."
"Well,flreaway."
He said solemnly, as though this part he had learned by heart, that he had agreat love and respect for Phuong. He had felt it ever since the night he had danced with her. I was reminded a little of a butler showing a party of tou-rists over a "great house". The great house was his heart, and of the private apartments where the family lived we were given only a rapid and surreptitious glimpse. I translated for him with meticulous care-it sounded worse that
way, and Phuong sat quiet with her hands in her lap as though she were listening to a movie. "Has she understood that?" he asked. "As far as I can tell. You don't want me to add a little fire to it, do you?"
"Oh no," he said, "just 'translate. I don't want to sway her emotionally." "I see."
"Tell her I want to marry her." I told her. "What was that she said?"
"She asked me if you were serious. I told her you were the serious type."
"I suppose this is an odd situation," he said. "Me asking you to translate." "Rather odd."
"And yet it seems so natural. After all you are mv best friend." "It's kind of you to say so."
"There's nobody I'd go to in trouble sooner than you," he said.
"And I suppose being in love with my girl is a kind of trouble?" "Of course. I wish it was anybody but you, Thomas."
"Well, what do I say to her next? That you can't live without her?"