happily,
nodding at Leamas over his glass.“Look,
do let’s have the other half, this is such fun.”
Ashe was typical of that strata of mankind which conducts its human relationships according to a principle of
challenge and response. Where there was softness, he would advance; where he
found resistance, retreat. Having himself noparticular opinions or tastes, he relied upon whatever
conformed with those of his companion. He was as ready
to drink tea at Fortnum’s as beer at the Prospect of Whitby; he would listen to
military music in St. James’s Park or jazz in a Compton Street cellar; his voice would
tremble with sympathy when he spoke of Sharpeville, orwith indignation at the growth of Britain ‘s colored population. To
Leamas this observably passive role was repellent; it brought out the bully in
him, so that hewould lead the
other gently into a position where he was committed, and then himselfwithdraw, so that Ashe was constantly
scampering back from some cul-de-sac into which Leamas had enticed him. There
were moments that afternoon when Leamas wasso brazenly perverse that Ashe would have been justified in
terminating their conversation—especially since he was paying; but he did not.
The little sad man withspectacles
who sat alone at the neighboring table, deep in a book on the manufacture of
ball bearings, might have deduced, bad he been listening, that Leamas was
indulginga sadistic nature—or
perhaps (if he had been a man of particular subtlety) thatLeamas was proving to his own
satisfaction that only a man with a strong ulterior motive would put up with
that kind of treatment.
It was nearly four o’clock before they ordered the bill, and Leamas
tried to insist on paying his half. Ashe wouldn’t hear of it, paid the bill and
took out his checkbook in order to settle his debt to Leamas.
“Twenty of the best,” he said, and
filled in the date on the check form.
Then he looked up at Leamas, all wide-eyed and
accommodating. “I say, a check is all right with you, isn’t it?”
Coloring a little, Leamas replied, “I haven’t
got a bank at the moment—only just back from abroad, something I’ve got to fix
up. Better give me a check and I’ll cash it at your bank.”
“My dear chap, I wouldn’t dream of it! You’d have to go to Rotherhithe to cash this one!” Leamas shrugged
and Ashe laughed, and they agreed to meet at the same place on the following
day, at one o’clock , when
Ashe would have the money in cash.
***
Ashe took a cab at the corner of Compton Street , and Leamas waved at it
until it was out of sight. When it was gone, he looked at his watch. It was four o’clock . He guessed he was still
being followed, so he walked down to Fleet Street andhad a cup of coffee in the Black and White. He looked at
bookshops, read the eveningpapers
displayed in the show windows of newspaper offices, and then quite suddenly,as if the thought had occurred to him
at the last minute, he jumped on a bus. The bus went to Ludgate Hill, where it
was held up in a traffic jam near a tube station; he dismounted and caught a
tube. He bought a sixpenny ticket, stood in the end car andgot off at the next station. He
caught another train to Euston, trekked back to CharingCross . It was nine o’clock when he reached the
station and it had turned rather cold.There
was a van waiting in the forecourt; the driver was fast asleep.
Leamas glanced at the number, went over and called
through the window, “Areyou
from Clements?”
The driver woke up with a start and asked,
“Mr. Thomas?”
“No,” replied Leamas. “Thomas
couldn’t come. I’m Amies from Hounslow.” - “Hop in, Mr. Amies,”
the driver replied, and opened the door. They drove West , toward the King’s Road. The
driver knew the way.
Control opened the door.
“George Smiley’s out,” he said.
“I’ve borrowed his house. Come in.” Not untilLeamas was inside and the front door closed, did Control put on
the hail light.
“I was followed
nodding at Leamas over his glass.“Look,
do let’s have the other half, this is such fun.”
Ashe was typical of that strata of mankind which conducts its human relationships according to a principle of
challenge and response. Where there was softness, he would advance; where he
found resistance, retreat. Having himself noparticular opinions or tastes, he relied upon whatever
conformed with those of his companion. He was as ready
to drink tea at Fortnum’s as beer at the Prospect of Whitby; he would listen to
military music in St. James’s Park or jazz in a Compton Street cellar; his voice would
tremble with sympathy when he spoke of Sharpeville, orwith indignation at the growth of Britain ‘s colored population. To
Leamas this observably passive role was repellent; it brought out the bully in
him, so that hewould lead the
other gently into a position where he was committed, and then himselfwithdraw, so that Ashe was constantly
scampering back from some cul-de-sac into which Leamas had enticed him. There
were moments that afternoon when Leamas wasso brazenly perverse that Ashe would have been justified in
terminating their conversation—especially since he was paying; but he did not.
The little sad man withspectacles
who sat alone at the neighboring table, deep in a book on the manufacture of
ball bearings, might have deduced, bad he been listening, that Leamas was
indulginga sadistic nature—or
perhaps (if he had been a man of particular subtlety) thatLeamas was proving to his own
satisfaction that only a man with a strong ulterior motive would put up with
that kind of treatment.
It was nearly four o’clock before they ordered the bill, and Leamas
tried to insist on paying his half. Ashe wouldn’t hear of it, paid the bill and
took out his checkbook in order to settle his debt to Leamas.
“Twenty of the best,” he said, and
filled in the date on the check form.
Then he looked up at Leamas, all wide-eyed and
accommodating. “I say, a check is all right with you, isn’t it?”
Coloring a little, Leamas replied, “I haven’t
got a bank at the moment—only just back from abroad, something I’ve got to fix
up. Better give me a check and I’ll cash it at your bank.”
“My dear chap, I wouldn’t dream of it! You’d have to go to Rotherhithe to cash this one!” Leamas shrugged
and Ashe laughed, and they agreed to meet at the same place on the following
day, at one o’clock , when
Ashe would have the money in cash.
***
Ashe took a cab at the corner of Compton Street , and Leamas waved at it
until it was out of sight. When it was gone, he looked at his watch. It was four o’clock . He guessed he was still
being followed, so he walked down to Fleet Street andhad a cup of coffee in the Black and White. He looked at
bookshops, read the eveningpapers
displayed in the show windows of newspaper offices, and then quite suddenly,as if the thought had occurred to him
at the last minute, he jumped on a bus. The bus went to Ludgate Hill, where it
was held up in a traffic jam near a tube station; he dismounted and caught a
tube. He bought a sixpenny ticket, stood in the end car andgot off at the next station. He
caught another train to Euston, trekked back to CharingCross . It was nine o’clock when he reached the
station and it had turned rather cold.There
was a van waiting in the forecourt; the driver was fast asleep.
Leamas glanced at the number, went over and called
through the window, “Areyou
from Clements?”
The driver woke up with a start and asked,
“Mr. Thomas?”
“No,” replied Leamas. “Thomas
couldn’t come. I’m Amies from Hounslow.” - “Hop in, Mr. Amies,”
the driver replied, and opened the door. They drove West , toward the King’s Road. The
driver knew the way.
Control opened the door.
“George Smiley’s out,” he said.
“I’ve borrowed his house. Come in.” Not untilLeamas was inside and the front door closed, did Control put on
the hail light.
“I was followed
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