like Vietnam?"
"A soldier can't decide morality. He operates under orders. The alternative is chaos."
"Whoever you are, you sound like a Nazi. After World War II , we execu ted Germans who offered that def ense."
"The situation was entirely different."
"No different at all . At the Nuremberg trials the Allies insisted Germans should have heeded conscience and refused orders. That's exactly what Vietnam draft defectors and deserters did." 'The Am erican Army wasn't exterminating Jews." "No, just villagers. As in My Lai and elsewhere." "No war is clean."
"But Vietnam was dirtier than most. From the Commander-in-Chief down. Which is why so many young Americans, with a special courage, obeyed their consciences and refused to take part in it." "They won't get a unconditional amnesty."
"They should. In time, when decency wins out, they will ."
They were still arguing fiercely when Edwina separated them and performed introductions. Later they resumed the argument, and continued it while Alex drove Margot home to her apartment. There, at one point, they came close to blows but instead found suddenly that physical desire eclipsed all else and they made love excitedly, heatedly, until exhausted, knowing already that something new and vital had entered both their lives.
As a footnote to that occasion, Alex later reversed his once-strong views, observing, as other disillusioned moderates did, the hollow mockery of Nixon's "peace with honor." And later still, while Watergate and related infamies unfolded, it became clear that those at the highest level of government who had decreed: "No amnesty" were guilty of more v illainy by far than any Vietnam deserter.
There had been other occasions, since that first one, when Margot's arguments had changed or widened his ideas.
Now, in the apartment's single bedroom, she selected a nightgown from a drawer which Alex left for her exclusive use. When she had it on, Margot turned out the lights.
They lay silently, in comforting companionship in the darkened room. Then Margot said, "You saw Celia today, didn't you?" Surprised, he turned to her. "How did you know?"
"It always shows. It's hard on you." She asked, "Do you want to talk about it ?" "Yes," he said, "I think so. "You still blame yourself, don't you?"
"Yes." He told her about his meeting with Celia, the conversation afterward with Dr. McCartney, and the psychiatrist's opinion about the probable effect on Celia of a divorce and his own remarriage.
Margot said emphatically, "Then you mustn't divorce her."
"If I don't," Alex said, "there can be nothing permanent for you and me."
"Of course there cam I told you long ago, it can be as permanent as we both want to make it. Marriage isn't permanent any more. Who really believes in marriage nowadays, except a few old bishops?" "I believe," Alex said. "Enough to want it for us."
'When let's have it on our terms. What I don't need, darling, is a piece of legal stationery saying I'm married, because I'm too used to legal papers for them to impress me overmuch. I've already said I'll live with you gladly and lovingly. But what I won't have on my conscience, or burden you with either, is shoving what’ s left of Celia's sanity into a bottomless pit."
"I know, I know. Everything you say makes sense." His answer lacked conviction.
She assured him softly, "I'm happier with what we have than I've ever been before in all my life. It's you, not me, who wants more." Alex sighed and, soon after, was asleep.
When she was sure that he was sleeping soundly, Margot dressed, kissed Alex lightly, and let hers elf out of the apartment. While Alex Vandervoort slept part of that night alone, Roscoe Heyward would sleep in solitude the whole night through. Though not yet.
Heyward was at home, in his rambling, three-story house in the suburb of Shaker Heights. He was seated at a leather-topped desk, with papers spread out before him, in the small, sedately furnished room he used as a study.
His wife
"A soldier can't decide morality. He operates under orders. The alternative is chaos."
"Whoever you are, you sound like a Nazi. After World War II , we execu ted Germans who offered that def ense."
"The situation was entirely different."
"No different at all . At the Nuremberg trials the Allies insisted Germans should have heeded conscience and refused orders. That's exactly what Vietnam draft defectors and deserters did." 'The Am erican Army wasn't exterminating Jews." "No, just villagers. As in My Lai and elsewhere." "No war is clean."
"But Vietnam was dirtier than most. From the Commander-in-Chief down. Which is why so many young Americans, with a special courage, obeyed their consciences and refused to take part in it." "They won't get a unconditional amnesty."
"They should. In time, when decency wins out, they will ."
They were still arguing fiercely when Edwina separated them and performed introductions. Later they resumed the argument, and continued it while Alex drove Margot home to her apartment. There, at one point, they came close to blows but instead found suddenly that physical desire eclipsed all else and they made love excitedly, heatedly, until exhausted, knowing already that something new and vital had entered both their lives.
As a footnote to that occasion, Alex later reversed his once-strong views, observing, as other disillusioned moderates did, the hollow mockery of Nixon's "peace with honor." And later still, while Watergate and related infamies unfolded, it became clear that those at the highest level of government who had decreed: "No amnesty" were guilty of more v illainy by far than any Vietnam deserter.
There had been other occasions, since that first one, when Margot's arguments had changed or widened his ideas.
Now, in the apartment's single bedroom, she selected a nightgown from a drawer which Alex left for her exclusive use. When she had it on, Margot turned out the lights.
They lay silently, in comforting companionship in the darkened room. Then Margot said, "You saw Celia today, didn't you?" Surprised, he turned to her. "How did you know?"
"It always shows. It's hard on you." She asked, "Do you want to talk about it ?" "Yes," he said, "I think so. "You still blame yourself, don't you?"
"Yes." He told her about his meeting with Celia, the conversation afterward with Dr. McCartney, and the psychiatrist's opinion about the probable effect on Celia of a divorce and his own remarriage.
Margot said emphatically, "Then you mustn't divorce her."
"If I don't," Alex said, "there can be nothing permanent for you and me."
"Of course there cam I told you long ago, it can be as permanent as we both want to make it. Marriage isn't permanent any more. Who really believes in marriage nowadays, except a few old bishops?" "I believe," Alex said. "Enough to want it for us."
'When let's have it on our terms. What I don't need, darling, is a piece of legal stationery saying I'm married, because I'm too used to legal papers for them to impress me overmuch. I've already said I'll live with you gladly and lovingly. But what I won't have on my conscience, or burden you with either, is shoving what’ s left of Celia's sanity into a bottomless pit."
"I know, I know. Everything you say makes sense." His answer lacked conviction.
She assured him softly, "I'm happier with what we have than I've ever been before in all my life. It's you, not me, who wants more." Alex sighed and, soon after, was asleep.
When she was sure that he was sleeping soundly, Margot dressed, kissed Alex lightly, and let hers elf out of the apartment. While Alex Vandervoort slept part of that night alone, Roscoe Heyward would sleep in solitude the whole night through. Though not yet.
Heyward was at home, in his rambling, three-story house in the suburb of Shaker Heights. He was seated at a leather-topped desk, with papers spread out before him, in the small, sedately furnished room he used as a study.
His wife
Similar Books
