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Independence – all but Ethel, too young for the circus, too young to notice; I had
her crib in my bathroom, safe and in earshot.
That playful swap had gore beautifully and made me think even more highly of my
prospective son-in-law. About three o’clock we four, Nancy and Theodore, Jonathan
and I, had gathered in ‘Smith Field’, my big bed, mostly to chat. As Briney often
said, ‘You can’t do it all the time, but there is no limit to how much you can talk
about it.’
We four were still lounging in Smith Field, talking and necking, when Brian
telephoned – he had just arrived in town, on leave. I told him to hurry home and
cued him in family code as to what he could expect. Nancy understood the coded
message and looked wide-eyed but said nothing.
Thirty-odd minutes later she closed her eyes and opened her thighs and for the first
time received her father – then opened her eyes and looked at Jonathan and me, and
grinned. I grinned back at her; Jonathan was too busy to look.
What this world needs is more loving, sweaty and friendly and unashamed.
Then the children had gore downstairs; Nancy had sensed that I wanted time alone
with my two men. She took the telephone with her, long cord and all. Now she stood
by the bed and smiled at us.
`Did you hear the phone ring? It was Grandpa. He said to tell you that the zoo wagon
will arrive – that’s your car, Ted-Lazarus darling – will arrive at exactly
six-oh-five p. . So Jonathan is bathing and I warned him not to use all the hot
water. He left.his clothes up here; I’ll take them down to him, then I’ll bathe and
dress up here. Ted-Lazarus dear, where are your clothes?’
‘In the sewing-room. I’ll be right down.’
`Cancel that,’ Brian said. `Nance, fetch Ted’s clothes when you come up, that’s my
sweet girl. Ted, in this family we spit in their eyes and tell’em to go to hell. You
don’t need to dress until we do, after the doorbell rings: A husband is all the
chaperone a wife needs, and I don’t explain to my children why we choose to have a
guest upstairs. As for mon beau père, he knows the score and is our shut-eye sentry.
If Carol guesses, she won’t talk. Thanks, Nancy.’
‘Pas de quoi, mon cher père. Papa! Is it true that Ted doesn’t have to go back
tonight?’
‘Ted goes back with me, Sunday night. Special duty, assigned to me – and I sold him,
body and soul, to your mother, who may kill him by then -‘
`Oh, no!’ Both my daughter and I said it.
`Or not, but shell try. Now get along, darling, and ser that door to latch as you
close it.’
Nancy did so; my husband turned to me. `Flame Top, it is now five-forty. Can you
figure out a way to entertain Ted and me for the next twenty-five minutes?’
I took a deep breath. I’ll try.’
Chapter 14 – Black Tuesday
World-as-Myth… Much as I love Hilda, much as I love Jubal and respect his
analytical genius, World-as-Myth doesn’t explain anything.
As Dr Will Durant would put it, it is an insufficient hypothesis. I studied
philosophy under Dr Durant in Kansas City in 1921 and ’22, not long after he left
the Catholic Church – and turned agnostic, socialist, and benedict, all through
sniffing a fourteen-year-old girl half his age.
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Dr Durant must have been a disappointment to Mrs Grundy – he married his jailbait
sweetheart and stayed married to her till his death in his nineties, with never a
breath of scandal. For Mrs Grundy it must have been a case of `Some days it is
hardly worth while to listen at keyholes.’
The Church’s loss was the World’s gain. A horny young teacher’s ability to keep his
hands off a pretty, smart, and nubile student gave several universes a great teacher
in history and philosophy… and gave Maureen her introduction to metaphysics – my