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‘Our friend Ellis appears surprised. The matter has been discussed before, I believe.’
‘I should think it damned well was discussed before! And we all said what we thought of it. By
God——’
‘If our friend Ellis will sit down for a few moments–’ said Mr Macgregor tolerantly.
Ellis threw himself into his chair again, exclaiming, ‘Bloody rubbish!’ Beyond the river Flory
could see the group of Burmans embarking. They were lifting a long, awkward-shaped bundle into the
sampan. Mr Macgregor had produced a letter from his file of papers.
‘Perhaps I had better explain how this question arose in the first place. The Commissioner tells me
that a circular has been sent round by the Government, suggesting that in those Clubs where there are
no native members, one at least shall be co-opted; that is, admitted automatically. The circular says–
ah yes! here it is: “It is mistaken policy to offer social affronts to native officials of high standing”. I
may say that I disagree most emphatically. No doubt we all do. We who have to do the actual work of
government see things very differently from these–ah–Paget MPs who interfere with us from above.
The Commissioner quite agrees with me. However——’
‘But it’s all bloody rot!’ broke in Ellis. ‘What’s it got to do with the Commissioner or anyone else?
Surely we can do as we like in our own bloody Club? They’ve no right to dictate to us when we’re
off duty.’
‘Quite,’ said Westfield.
‘You anticipate me. I told the Commissioner that I should have to put the matter before the other
members. And the course he suggests is this. If the idea finds any support in the Club, he thinks it
would be better if we co-opted our native member. On the other hand, if the entire Club is against it, it
can be dropped. That is, if opinion is quite unanimous.’
‘Well, it damned well is unanimous,’ said Ellis.
‘D’you mean,’ said Westfield, ‘that it depends on ourselves whether we have ’em in here or no?’
‘I fancy we can take it as meaning that.’
‘Well, then, let’s say we’re against it to a man.’
‘And say it bloody firmly, by God. We want to put our foot down on this idea once and for all.’
‘Hear, hear!’ said Mr Lackersteen gruffly. ‘Keep the black swabs out of it. Esprit de corps and all
that.’
Mr Lackersteen could always be relied upon for sound sentiments in a case like this. In his heart he
did not care and never had cared a damn for the British Raj, and he was as happy drinking with an
Oriental as with a white man; but he was always ready with a loud ‘Hear, hear!’ when anyone
suggested the bamboo for disrespectful servants or boiling oil for Nationalists. He prided himself that
though he might booze a bit and all that, dammit, he was loyal. It was his form of respectability. Mr
Macgregor was secretly rather relieved by the general agreement. If any Oriental member were coopted,
that member would have to be Dr Veraswami, and he had had the deepest distrust of the doctor
ever since Nga Shwe O’s suspicious escape from the jail.
‘Then I take it that you are all agreed?’ he said. ‘If so, I will inform the Commissioner. Otherwise,
we must begin discussing the candidate for election.’