brassiere had not yet been made which could keep her from being anything but another Garnett stuffed shirt.
The next morning Helen had called Cathy to ask for Ted’s address and phone number. It happened that that week he had been flying something to Sacramento. In the eight days of his absence Helen had called Cathy three times more.
Ted had been back about six weeks when Garnett came out from the War Department to the hangar one morning to ask Dennis bluntly what he knew about this Lieutenant Martin. The question had astonished Dennis. He had begun to explain what he had very early perceived and now the whole service, in fact the whole country, was beginning to realize about Lieutenant Martin when Garnett cut him short impatiently.
“I know all that. Casey, Helen’s broken her engagement to Morton Collins.”
The connection seemed to him incredible. Ted had not mentioned Helen since that Sunday. He told him this but Garnett only shook his head and then blurted:—
“It’s not as if he’d been at the Point with us. Does he understand all the rules, Casey?”
All the rules meant the unwritten but explicit one that propinquity and boredom had established to protect peacetime tedium: all the brothers were valiant, all the sisters were virtuous. The equally explicit corollary to this rule was that all exceptions to it must be conducted three miles from the flagpole.
He had reassured Garnett as delicately as he could. He knew that Cliff’s judgments were apt to be superficial and in this case probably not untinged with envy. Even by then the experts were trying to dismiss the foundations of the growing Martin legend with the simple explanation of Martin luck. Dennis knew better. There was far more than luck in the perfection of that flying, far more than an aviator in the complexity of the man himself.
Women generally apprehended this more quickly than men. Even as an obscure youngster Martin had always had a wide choice of diversion and had accepted it with the casual, detached amusement he seemed to accord everything except flying itself. Yet Dennis doubted that any woman had ever touched the capacity for thought and feeling locked up in the pilot below the troublesome and insubordinate young lieutenant. He could scarcely tell Cliff that Helen seemed the last woman in the world to do it. He could and did tell him privately that he knew Ted was happily preoccupied in half a dozen other directions.
Garnett had thanked him and gone off glumly. Dennis had forgotten it until in the privacy of their bedroom that night Cathy had remarked that they saw little of Ted lately. She had looked around from her hair combing indignantly as he told her of Cliff’s visit that day.
“Ted indeed! Why doesn’t he teach Helen the rules?”
“Helen?”
“Casey! She had rape in her eye that afternoon.”
He had protested, more to himself than to her; in the first place he didn’t believe it. If it were true, Ted had survived other encounters with that peril.
“No wonder you two can fly blind! Don’t you realize she’d playing for keeps?”
“Well, I don’t know what we can do… Ted’s of age…”
“And she’s three years older. Casey, can’t you order him somewhere?”
He had explained to her that newly created captains did not order people anywhere. Later in the week they accepted a hasty dinner invitation from the Garnetts with foreboding. Ted’s car was in the driveway as they arrived. In the hall Ted and Helen greeted them arm in arm, Ted’s face stiff with an unnatural smile as Helen announced the engagement to them.
The trouble came fast. Three months later Ted had driven into the hangar and the first sight of him told Dennis that he was unfit to fly. Instead of pretending he had beckoned Dennis into the car and slammed the door for privacy.
“Casey, is there any station where officers can’t take wives?”
Dennis had known by then, they had all known, that it was going badly. The finality of this
The next morning Helen had called Cathy to ask for Ted’s address and phone number. It happened that that week he had been flying something to Sacramento. In the eight days of his absence Helen had called Cathy three times more.
Ted had been back about six weeks when Garnett came out from the War Department to the hangar one morning to ask Dennis bluntly what he knew about this Lieutenant Martin. The question had astonished Dennis. He had begun to explain what he had very early perceived and now the whole service, in fact the whole country, was beginning to realize about Lieutenant Martin when Garnett cut him short impatiently.
“I know all that. Casey, Helen’s broken her engagement to Morton Collins.”
The connection seemed to him incredible. Ted had not mentioned Helen since that Sunday. He told him this but Garnett only shook his head and then blurted:—
“It’s not as if he’d been at the Point with us. Does he understand all the rules, Casey?”
All the rules meant the unwritten but explicit one that propinquity and boredom had established to protect peacetime tedium: all the brothers were valiant, all the sisters were virtuous. The equally explicit corollary to this rule was that all exceptions to it must be conducted three miles from the flagpole.
He had reassured Garnett as delicately as he could. He knew that Cliff’s judgments were apt to be superficial and in this case probably not untinged with envy. Even by then the experts were trying to dismiss the foundations of the growing Martin legend with the simple explanation of Martin luck. Dennis knew better. There was far more than luck in the perfection of that flying, far more than an aviator in the complexity of the man himself.
Women generally apprehended this more quickly than men. Even as an obscure youngster Martin had always had a wide choice of diversion and had accepted it with the casual, detached amusement he seemed to accord everything except flying itself. Yet Dennis doubted that any woman had ever touched the capacity for thought and feeling locked up in the pilot below the troublesome and insubordinate young lieutenant. He could scarcely tell Cliff that Helen seemed the last woman in the world to do it. He could and did tell him privately that he knew Ted was happily preoccupied in half a dozen other directions.
Garnett had thanked him and gone off glumly. Dennis had forgotten it until in the privacy of their bedroom that night Cathy had remarked that they saw little of Ted lately. She had looked around from her hair combing indignantly as he told her of Cliff’s visit that day.
“Ted indeed! Why doesn’t he teach Helen the rules?”
“Helen?”
“Casey! She had rape in her eye that afternoon.”
He had protested, more to himself than to her; in the first place he didn’t believe it. If it were true, Ted had survived other encounters with that peril.
“No wonder you two can fly blind! Don’t you realize she’d playing for keeps?”
“Well, I don’t know what we can do… Ted’s of age…”
“And she’s three years older. Casey, can’t you order him somewhere?”
He had explained to her that newly created captains did not order people anywhere. Later in the week they accepted a hasty dinner invitation from the Garnetts with foreboding. Ted’s car was in the driveway as they arrived. In the hall Ted and Helen greeted them arm in arm, Ted’s face stiff with an unnatural smile as Helen announced the engagement to them.
The trouble came fast. Three months later Ted had driven into the hangar and the first sight of him told Dennis that he was unfit to fly. Instead of pretending he had beckoned Dennis into the car and slammed the door for privacy.
“Casey, is there any station where officers can’t take wives?”
Dennis had known by then, they had all known, that it was going badly. The finality of this
Similar Books
