"A swine like
yours," said Marcel, "a breeder of apparatchiks who are no better. They
are like pilot fish to sharks, parasites who live as whores."
"Rubbish," said Galsworthy. "Our son works for the FO, and he is
not an apparatchik nor is he a whore."
soul," said the Frenchman. "The mind always rationalizes."
In a very French
way, he was, of course, correct. But who, then, is to lead? And who shall
"Ah, that is
the irony of our race. It is a fait accompli of our own doing."
"I have the answer. We shall all be reincarnated as trout and we shall meet
back here every Christmas. There will be a vote to elect the chief
"This is no
joking matter," Marcel said.
put," said Dowle. "And so it is."
We adjourned to
the lounge for brandy. Still no Holmes. We were leaving that afternoon to shoot
duck on Lake Naivasha, and I wanted to exchange addresses. But he had not
returned by three, our deadline. We packed and paid the bill, which was
ridiculously low, something like $8 each. We left the office and walked to the
Land Rover. The Galsworthys were playing croquet again. The others I didn't
know. The Alsatian kept disturbing the play, shagging the ball.