Grimes laughed. He couldn't help it. Mrs. Dalwood screamed furiously, "Be silent, John. I forbid you to speak, ever, unless spoken to by me."
"Yes, Madam."
"And as for you, Mr. Grimes, you heard nothing."
Grimes looked at her, into the eyes that were full of appeal. He remembered what he had heard of Mrs. Commissioner Dalwood before ever he had the misfortune to meet her. The beautiful Mrs. Dalwood, the proud Mrs. Dalwood, the so-called
femme fatale
of the Admiralty who could, and did, compete with much younger women on equal terms. In a less permissive society she could never have attained her high rank; in Earth's past she could have become a King's courtesan.
And in Skandia's present . . . ?
Grimes said softly, "Of course, King Eric's very young . . ."
"Mr. Grimes, you heard nothing . . ."
He could not resist the appeal in her voice, the very real charm. He thought,
I
may not be an officer much longer, but I'll still try to be a gentleman.
He said, "I heard nothing.
Commodore Damien looked at Grimes over his desk, over the skeletal fingers with which he had made the too-familiar steeple. He said, without regret, "So I shall be losing you, Grimes."
"Yes, sir."
"Frankly, I was surprised."
"Yes, sir."
"But not altogether pained."
Grimes wasn't sure how to take this, so said nothing.
"Tomorrow morning, Grimes, you hand over your command to Lieutenant Beadle. I think that he deserves his promotion."
"Yes, sir."
"But how did you do it, Grimes? Don't tell me that . . . ? No. She's not your type, nor you hers."
"You can say that again, sir."
"It can't be what you
do.
It can't be what you know. It must be
whom
you know . . . "
Or what you know about whom,
thought Lieutenant Commander Grimes a little smugly.