Some Do Not (Historical Novel). Ford Madox Ford

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Some Do Not (Historical Novel) - Ford Madox Ford


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to the General.

      The Government had wanted a set of figures based on a calculation called B7. Tietjens, who had been working on one called h29—for his own instruction—had persuaded himself that h29 was the lowest figure that was actuarially sound.

      The General said pleasantly: ‘All this is Greek to me.’

      ‘Oh no, it needn’t be,’ Macmaster heard himself say. ‘It amounts to this. Chrissie was asked by the Government—by Sir Reginald Ingleby—to work out what 3 x 3 comes to: it was that sort of thing in principle. He said that the only figure that would not ruin the country was nine times nine . . . ’

      ‘The Government wanted to shovel money into the working man’s pockets, in fact,’ the General said. ‘Money for nothing . . . or votes, I suppose.’

      ‘But that isn’t the point, sir,’ Macmaster ventured to say. ‘All that Chrissie was asked to do was to say what 3 X 3 was.’

      ‘Well, he appears to have done it and earned no end of kudos,’ the General said. ‘That’s all right. We’ve all, always, believed in Chrissie’s ability. But he’s a strong-tempered beggar.’

      ‘He was extraordinarily rude to Sir Reginald over it,’ Macmaster went on.

      The General said:

      ‘Oh dear! Oh dear!’ He shook his head at Tietjens and assumed with care the blank, slightly disappointing air of the regular officer. ‘I don’t like to hear of rudeness to a superior. In any service.’

      ‘I don’t think,’ Tietjens said with extreme mildness, ‘that Macmaster is quite fair to me. Of course he’s a right to his opinion as to what the discipline of a service demands. I certainly told Ingleby that I’d rather resign than do that beastly job . . . ’

      ‘You shouldn’t have,’ the General said. ‘What would become of the services if everyone did as you did?’

      Sandbach came back laughing and dropped painfully into his low arm-chair.

      ‘That fellow . . . ’ he began.

      The General slightly raised his hand.

      ‘A minute!’ he said. ‘I was about to tell Chrissie, here, that if I am offered the job—of course it’s an order really—of suppressing the Ulster Volunteers . . . I’d rather cut my throat than do it . . . ’

      Sandbach said:

      ‘Of course you would, old chap. They’re our brothers. You’d see the beastly, lying Government damned first.’

      ‘I was going to say that I should accept,’ the General said, ‘I shouldn’t resign my commission.’

      Sandbach said:

      ‘Good God!’

      Tietjens said:

      ‘Well, I didn’t.’

      Sandbach exclaimed:

      ‘General! You! After all Claudine and I have said . . . ’ Tietjens interrupted:

      ‘Excuse me, Sandbach. I’m receiving this reprimand for the moment. I wasn’t, then, rude to Ingleby. If I’d expressed contempt for what he said or for himself, that would have been rude. I didn’t. He wasn’t in the least offended. He looked like a cockatoo, but he wasn’t offended. And I let him over-persuade me. He was right, really. He pointed out that, if I didn’t do the job, those swine would put on one of our little competition wallah head clerks and get all the schedules faked, as well as starting off with false premises!’

      ‘That’s the view I take,’ the General said, ‘if I don’t take the Ulster job the Government will put on a fellow who’ll burn all the farm-houses and rape all the women in the three counties. They’ve got him up their sleeve. He only asks for the Connaught Rangers to go through the north with. And you know what that means. All the same . . . ’ He looked at Tietjens: ‘One should not be rude to one’s superiors.’

      ‘I tell you I wasn’t rude,’ Tietjens exclaimed. ‘Damn your nice, paternal old eyes. Get that into your mind!’ The General shook his head:

      ‘You brilliant fellows!’ he said. ‘The country, or the army, or anything, could not be run by you. It takes stupid fools like me and Sandbach, along with sound moderate heads like our friend here.’ He indicated Macmaster and, rising, went on: ‘Come along. You’re playing me, Macmaster. They say you’re hot stuff. Chrissie’s no good. He can take Sandbach on.’

      He walked off with Macmaster towards the dressing-room.

      Sandbach, wriggling awkwardly out of his chair, shouted:

      ‘Save the country . . . Damn it . . . ’ He stood on his feet. ‘I and Campion . . . Look at what the country’s come to . . . What with swine like these two in our club houses! And policemen to go round the links with Ministers to protect them from the wild women . . . By God! I’d like to have the flaying of the skin off some of their backs I would. My God I would.’

      He added:

      ‘That fellow Waterslops is a bit of a sportsman. I haven’t been able to tell you about our bet, you’ve been making such a noise . . . Is your friend really plus one at North Berwick? What are you like?’

      ‘Macmaster is a good plus two anywhere when he’s in practice.’

      Sandbach said:

      ‘Good Lord . . . A stout fellow . . . ’

      ‘As for me,’ Tietjens said, ‘I loathe the beastly game.’ ‘So do I,’ Sandbach answered. ‘We’ll just lollop along behind them.’

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