Seven Dials Page 0,42

that the highest honor lay in protecting the reputation of the service.

He had no way of knowing from the printed word, and the clerks he saw knew nothing personally and were far too well trained to speculate. They looked at him blandly and gave away nothing.

It seemed to be in Lovat's personal life that he had incurred enemies. According to those who had known him, he had been a pleasant-looking man, not traditionally handsome, but with a good physique, a fine head of hair, and a smile of great charm. He could dance well and found conversation easy. He liked music, and sang with enthusiasm, carrying a tune and remembering the words of all the sentimental ballads of the day.

"Don't know what was wrong with him," an elderly gentleman said sadly, shaking his head as he sat opposite Pitt in the Army and Navy Club in Pall Mall that evening, sipping a Napoleon brandy, his feet stretched out against the fender, scorching the soles of his boots. "Any amount of agreeable young women who would have made a decent wife. But the moment he looked as if he'd a chance of their hand, he got bored, or dissatisfied, or whatever it was... cold feet, I daresay... and went after someone else." He pushed out his lower lip in a grimace. "None too particular about who he chose either. Morals of an alley cat, sorry to say."

Pitt inched a little farther from the fire, which was burning with a brilliant glow and far more heat than was needed on a mild September day. Colonel Woodside seemed to be oblivious to it, and to the hot smell emanating from his boots.

"Did you know the Egyptian woman, Miss Zakhari?" Pitt asked, uncertain whether the colonel would consider that an improper question to a gentleman.

"Of course I didn't know her!" Woodside said testily. "And if I had, I'd not be likely to own it to the likes of you! But I saw her, certainly. Beautiful creature, quite beautiful. Never seen an Englishwoman walk with a grace like that. Moved like weeds in the water... sort of... fluid..." He held up his hand as if to demonstrate, then stopped abruptly and glared at Pitt. "If you want me to say Lovat pestered her... I can't! I've no idea. A man doesn't do that sort of thing in public."

Pitt changed direction. "Did Mr. Lovat know Mr. Ryerson?" he asked.

"No idea! Shouldn't think so. Damn!" Colonel Woodside jerked his feet off the fender, put them down on the floor, then took them up again even more quickly, and with a grimace.

Pitt kept his face perfectly straight, but with difficulty.

"Hardly frequent the same places," Woodside added, crossing his ankles gingerly to keep the soles of both feet off the floor. "Generation between them, not to mention status, money, and taste. You're thinking about the woman? For God's sake, man! Beautiful, but no better than she should be. Neither man's going to marry her. Of course she'd choose Ryerson." He looked across at Pitt with a frown. "He's got wealth, position, reputation, polish. Apart from that, he has a charm young Lovat could never achieve. And heaven knows why he never married after his wife was killed... bad business, that... but he won't do now. I daresay an heiress could pick and choose a lot better." He gave a little grunt. "Still, Egyptian women might not know that. Much wiser to play it safe."

"You don't think Ryerson would consider marrying her?" Pitt asked, more to see Woodside's reaction than because he expected a possible answer in the affirmative. He was so touched by a sense of pity for her that it was not even a real question. She was to be used, enjoyed, but never even considered as belonging. There were millions like that, for all sorts of reasons, money, appearance, things they could not change, but it still made him angry. He knew what it was like to be excluded, even if it had not happened to him very often.

Woodside stared at his feet. "Ryerson never got over the death of his wife. Don't really know why. Takes some men that way, but I hadn't thought he was one of them. Never seemed that close, but I suppose you can't tell. Pretty woman, but restless, always looking for some new taste or experience. Couldn't be bothered with her, myself. Don't mind a woman with no brains-easier sometimes-but no patience with one who's downright silly."

Pitt was surprised. He had