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was approached with fulsome courtesy; everyone was anxious to hear my opinions - a novelty at which I could not help but wonder. Still, I expressed myself in clear, detailed terms; I left no room for misunderstanding.”
Sir Denzel gave his head an ironic shake. “The response surprised me. I was asked as to the source of my philosophy; I replied that I had done no more than provide a glimpse down the Noble Way, and everyone was impressed. They told me that at last a source dogma for the LPF party had been defined, and that everyone was charged with crusading fervor. I could not turn aside now; I was urged to implement my views with all means at my disposal, including financial support: after all, what better use could be found for a hoard of passive wealth? I agreed to fund a relatively large account at the Bank of Soumjiana. This account would be accessible only to three members of the Executive Council. These three were nominated on the spot: Roby Mavil, Julian Bohost and, at my insistence, Rufo Kathcar as the third. I stipulated that no money might be spent in conflict with the precepts of the Noble Way; was this clear to all? Absolutely! The endorsement was unanimous, and Roby Mavil’s voice rang out loud and brave.
“So it was agreed in an atmosphere of emotion and bonhomie.
“This morning came the denouement. I learned that my trust had been abused, the Source Dogma cast aside like a piece of rotting meat, and my money given to ignoble uses. ‘Betrayal’ is a word which fits the case, and I face a new reality, which first of all must include the return of my money.”
Roby Mavil cried out in passion: “That is impossible! The money has been withdrawn from the account und used!”
Kathcar asked harshly: “To what exact amount?”
Roby Mavil turned him a glance of utter loathing. “I have tried to observe the amenities of polite discourse, but now I must allude to a situation which had better gone ignored, at least for the moment. The facts are these: Rufo Kathcar’s connection with the LPF Executive Council has lapsed. In blunt terms, he is no longer regarded as a good LPFer.”
“Good Peefer, bad Peefer: that is sheer tosh!” snapped sir Denzel. “Rufo Kathcar is my second cousin and a man of excellent connections! He is also my aide and I rely upon him.”
“No doubt,” said Mavil. “Nevertheless, Kathcar’s views are often impractical, or even startling. In the interests of procedural harmony, he has been excised from the directorate.”
Kathcar pushed back his chair. “Mavil, be good enough to hold your tongue while I state the facts. They are crude and ugly. The LPF is controlled by a pair of headstrong women, each more obstinate than the other. I need mention no names. In a gaggle of nincompoops and popinjays, among whom Roby Mavil is conspicuous, I was the last bulwark of good judgment against which the folly of these women beat in vain. They have pushed me aside, and the LPF is now an engine without a flywheel.” Kathcar rose to his feet. He addressed Sir Denzel. “Your decision is correct! You must deny this cabal all further credits and recover the funds you have already advanced!” Kathcar turned and stalked from the terrace. Sir Denzel also started to rise. Roby Mavil cried out: “Wait! You must listen to me! Second cousin or not, Kathcar has given you a false impression!”
“Indeed? His remarks sounded reasonable to me.”
“You have not heard the whole truth! Kathcar was expelled from the directorate, but more than clashing personalities was involved. There was a naked struggle for power! Kathcar declared himself better qualified to lead the campaign than either Dame Clytie or Simonetta, and assigned secondary roles to each of them. Both were outraged, and felt that Kathcar had displayed intolerable excesses of masculine vanity. Kathcar was not only thwarted; he was captured and severely punished, to such an extent that he is now motivated by hatred and
Sir Denzel gave his head an ironic shake. “The response surprised me. I was asked as to the source of my philosophy; I replied that I had done no more than provide a glimpse down the Noble Way, and everyone was impressed. They told me that at last a source dogma for the LPF party had been defined, and that everyone was charged with crusading fervor. I could not turn aside now; I was urged to implement my views with all means at my disposal, including financial support: after all, what better use could be found for a hoard of passive wealth? I agreed to fund a relatively large account at the Bank of Soumjiana. This account would be accessible only to three members of the Executive Council. These three were nominated on the spot: Roby Mavil, Julian Bohost and, at my insistence, Rufo Kathcar as the third. I stipulated that no money might be spent in conflict with the precepts of the Noble Way; was this clear to all? Absolutely! The endorsement was unanimous, and Roby Mavil’s voice rang out loud and brave.
“So it was agreed in an atmosphere of emotion and bonhomie.
“This morning came the denouement. I learned that my trust had been abused, the Source Dogma cast aside like a piece of rotting meat, and my money given to ignoble uses. ‘Betrayal’ is a word which fits the case, and I face a new reality, which first of all must include the return of my money.”
Roby Mavil cried out in passion: “That is impossible! The money has been withdrawn from the account und used!”
Kathcar asked harshly: “To what exact amount?”
Roby Mavil turned him a glance of utter loathing. “I have tried to observe the amenities of polite discourse, but now I must allude to a situation which had better gone ignored, at least for the moment. The facts are these: Rufo Kathcar’s connection with the LPF Executive Council has lapsed. In blunt terms, he is no longer regarded as a good LPFer.”
“Good Peefer, bad Peefer: that is sheer tosh!” snapped sir Denzel. “Rufo Kathcar is my second cousin and a man of excellent connections! He is also my aide and I rely upon him.”
“No doubt,” said Mavil. “Nevertheless, Kathcar’s views are often impractical, or even startling. In the interests of procedural harmony, he has been excised from the directorate.”
Kathcar pushed back his chair. “Mavil, be good enough to hold your tongue while I state the facts. They are crude and ugly. The LPF is controlled by a pair of headstrong women, each more obstinate than the other. I need mention no names. In a gaggle of nincompoops and popinjays, among whom Roby Mavil is conspicuous, I was the last bulwark of good judgment against which the folly of these women beat in vain. They have pushed me aside, and the LPF is now an engine without a flywheel.” Kathcar rose to his feet. He addressed Sir Denzel. “Your decision is correct! You must deny this cabal all further credits and recover the funds you have already advanced!” Kathcar turned and stalked from the terrace. Sir Denzel also started to rise. Roby Mavil cried out: “Wait! You must listen to me! Second cousin or not, Kathcar has given you a false impression!”
“Indeed? His remarks sounded reasonable to me.”
“You have not heard the whole truth! Kathcar was expelled from the directorate, but more than clashing personalities was involved. There was a naked struggle for power! Kathcar declared himself better qualified to lead the campaign than either Dame Clytie or Simonetta, and assigned secondary roles to each of them. Both were outraged, and felt that Kathcar had displayed intolerable excesses of masculine vanity. Kathcar was not only thwarted; he was captured and severely punished, to such an extent that he is now motivated by hatred and
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