Читать книгу Unconditional Surrender онлайн

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He sauntered out twirling his eyeglass.

"What are you and the old geezer up to?" asked Sam.

"Party meetings," said Susie.

"I know better things to do in the blackout than meetings."

"So does the old geezer, it seems," said the third sergeant.

"He's a bit of bourgeois at heart for all his fine talk," Susie admitted. All the time he spoke he was concentrating on his small lathe, turning tiny spiral columns with exquisite precision.

"You'll soon have that finished," said Guy to the senior sergeant.

"Yes, barring interruptions. You can never tell when they'll come asking for more beaches. There isn't the same satisfaction in beaches."

"They ought to have landed on them this summer," said Susie. "That's what was promised."

"I didn't give no promises," said Sam, busy with the fretsaw cutting little mahogany flagstones.

Guy left these happy, industrious men and paused in his progress at the room of Mr. Oates, the civilian efficiency-expert.

No one could be reasonably described as "out of place" in H.O.O. HQ., but Mr. Oates, despite his unobtrusive appearance (or by reason of it), seemed bizarre to Guy. He was a plump, taciturn little man and he alone among all his heterogeneous colleagues proclaimed confidence. Of the others some toiled mindlessly, passing files from tray to tray, some took their ease, some were plotting, some hiding, some grousing; all quite baffled. But Mr. Oates believed he was in his own way helping to win the war. He was a profoundly peaceful man and his way seemed clear before him.