The brass band of the Sherwood Foresters was playing an afternoon concert in the octagonal alcove of the Astor House and all Tientsin was there for the diversion. He had not realised such would be the case when he had suggested in his note to her that they meet there for tea. By the time he arrived, she was already seated and it was too late to suggest a change of plans. Morrison sensed that the entertainment was considerably enhanced by the sight of the famous correspondent and the scandalous American together again. He caught eyes darting in their direction from behind raised teacups and fans. It was all so intriguing that it was a miracle the Sherwood Foresters even got a look-in.
‘And so I’m off to the front. Or at least that’s the intention. The Japanese are still being most obstreperous on the topic of permissions.’
‘If the war is as righteous as you claim,’ she said, ‘then why are the Japanese so reluctant to be observed in the practice of it?’
Flibbertigibbet. ‘Strategic reasons,’ he said with more conviction than he felt. Her question irritated him. ‘But as I remarked in our first conversation, women are natural pacifists. That is why they are unsuited to govern nations. They do not have the marrow to enact the necessary.’
‘You didn’t answer my question. Besides, does that make Tolstoi a woman?’ Mae retorted, responding to his tone. ‘He has written a most moving pamphlet arguing the case against war in general and this one in particular, calling it contrary to the teachings of both Jesus Christ and Lord Buddha. He says war brings needless suffering and stupefies and brutalises men. I found his reasoning quite persuasive. Bethink Yourselves! is the title in English by the way.’
‘I know it. And yet,’ Morrison countered with a dismissive air, ‘one of Tolstoi’s own sons is so much in favour of the war that he has enlisted to serve. And the old man himself rides out from Isnaia Poliana every few days all the way to Tula to catch the latest news from the front.’
‘Well of course he is eager for the news if his own flesh and blood is fighting. Do you deny that Tolstoi has any point?’
‘He makes a very good point. He states that Manchuria is to Russia an alien land over which it has no rights.’ Why are we arguing about this?
‘Who has rights to Manchuria except the Manchus? I, at least, am persuaded by Tolstoi’s words.’
Morrison had never appreciated Russian literature less. He took a deep breath. ‘You’re very feisty today, Maysie. But surely you didn’t send me all those telegrams urging me to come to see you only because you wished to argue the case against war.’
‘No,’ she replied, her fire suddenly extinguished. ‘Honey, you will be careful, won’t you?’
‘Of course. I’m not foolish. And I’m not going to do battle—only report on it.’
Her lips trembled. ‘I’m afraid.’
‘Please don’t worry, Mae. I’ll be fine.’ He patted her hand. This was becoming tedious.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Now what?
A teardrop fell onto her gloves, leaving a damp spot. She blinked down at her hands for a long while.
Truly she has missed her calling. The stage is the poorer. Her carryings-on, her stories and her flagrant infidelities had finally registered with the saner part of him. Though he could not have known for certain until he had seen her again, observing her now he was satisfied that he had banished her from his heart.
Another tear fell. He grew irritated and restless, thinking of the many appointments he still had to attend to in Tientsin before sailing to Wei Hai Wei and thence Japan.
She took a sip of tea and replaced the china cup in its saucer. ‘There is something I have to tell you.’
Morrison waited, his patience thinning.
She folded her hands in her lap again and looked him in the eye. ‘It seems that I am not infertile after all.’