Declare

service bank. Theodora could h-h-hardly be your father—who is?”
    “I don’t know,” said Hale clearly.
    Philby’s pouchy face was still cheerful, but his voice was strident and almost angry as he said, “You were born in P-Phh—fucking— Palestine , allegedly on the Feast of the Epiphany—and you’re a, a Ca-tho-lic , Roman variety, Papist!— ‘Our Father which art in Amman, Hajji be thy name!’— so you m-must know that Ep-p-piphany is when the Three Why-Wise Men arrived at last in Bbbeth!-lehem! just south of Jerusalem, ‘following yonder star.’ ” He took a deep breath and let it out, and then gave Hale a bright, boyish smile. “True?”
    Hale remembered telling Elena his own interpretation of the passage she had quoted from the Book of Job: If the world is run according to any rules at all, those rules are beyond Job’s comprehension. And beyond mine too, he thought now fearfully; even here at home, in England.
    “Uh,” Hale said, “yes, sir.” His hesitation in answering had probably not looked unnatural—even the men behind the table were now staring at Philby uncertainly.
    Philby sighed, and then went on in a more quiet voice, “Theodora stage-managed your skewed C-Covent Garden arrest, in order to set you up as one of his p-private spies to undermine the Soviet n-networks in France—and he did it in d-d-isobedience to his masters at… in Whitehall.”
    Hale supposed this was the exact truth; but “not even Churchill,” Theodora had said; and ever since his mother had taken Hale to meet his “godfather” in ’29, Theodora had for good or ill been his image of the King’s Man, the representative of the Crown.
    “But I wasn’t doing anything the Theodora person had told me to do,” said Hale, “and I certainly wasn’t undermining the Sov—”
    Philby interrupted him: “Theodora’s politics calcified in about 1920. You are aware, Mr. Hale, that the S-Soviet you-Union is at present an— ally —of England?”
    “Well, exactly, sir,” ventured Hale, “though I believe I’m being detained now for working for them, at considerable personal risk, against Germany.” It was a fairly cheeky thing to say here, but Hale believed it was in character for his cover.
    “You— unspeakable little shit,” said Philby. “Do you expect anyone to b-believe that the service’s most rabid anti-Communist took c-c-custody of a young Party member and accidentally let him escape to Europe, to work for a Soviet spy network in P-Paris?— with no nn-intentions to impede that n-network’s efforts against Hitler, nor to d-damage the fragile alliance between the Soviet Union and Ig-Ig-England?” He took a deep breath and let half of it out, like a marksman preparing to fire. “Is it then your claim that Theodora was so smitten with your willowy figure and blond locks that he freed you in exchange for indulgence in activities with which I suppose upon reflection you cannot be unfamiliar?”
    Managed to say that straight out, thought Hale sourly. He opened his mouth to begin to answer, but the old colonel spoke up first.
    “Catholic priest or no,” the colonel growled, “I doubt Mr. Hale’s father was ever engaged in activities prejudicial to the safety of the Realm.” Philby turned on the officer with an expression Hale wasn’t able to see; but the man went on imperturbably, staring straight back at Philby from under lowered white eyebrows, “And we’d certainly have heard if Mr. Hale had ever been editor of, oh, any periodical like Germany Today.”
    Bewilderedly, Hale wondered if these things were true of Philby’s father and of Philby. Certainly the remarks had been offensively meant.
    Philby gave a harsh laugh. “I c- came here to off—to offer Broadway’s ass—assiss-assiss—Broadway’s help,” he said. “Unofficially, as a vol atile—damn it—as a voluntary li-ai-son between the s-services.” He waved behind him toward Hale. “This man came out of your—out of Europe through Lisbon, and even as head of the Iberian sub-section in Broadway I c-could have simply taken Hay-Hay-Hale’s case right out of your hands. And allow me to inform you, in case you haven’t b-been to town lately, that I am presently acting head of the entire counter-espionage section.”
    The civilian at the table had steepled his fingers and was nodding thoughtfully. “You could have,” he agreed, frowning. “I think we would contest it now; in which case the Cabinet Secretary would