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came to my cabin when the dance was over, but so taken was I that I acted in a
completely gentlemanly way … simply because I felt that that was expected of me.
I took her home in a taxi, delighted with so successful an evening, but that was
the conclusion of the relationship. I felt that I was very lucky … but luck should
only be pushed so far (in other words, I felt that the law student had the inside
track, and this was not a girl with whom to make an ass of myself, a role at which
I was a consummate master).

With some regret, we had to depart Sydney, and on the way across the Tasman
Sea to Auckland I thought that I should see something of that city; Diane had
insisted that I should visit her parents when I was in port, and I duly sent notice
of my impending arrival. I was happy to receive a reply; I would be picked up on
arrival by one of the Cossey family. And her father obliged.

Diane was a very charming girl with a very attractive face and great personal
charm. Her distinguishing feature was her hair, which was pulled back from
her face into something akin to a skull-cap (she was, of course, still in Europe
at the time) which, I suppose, made the most of her features. I was therefore
quite taken aback when I arrived at their house for lunch and met her mother
and younger sister; they looked exactly the same as Diane, hair included, except
for the apparent age differentials. I knew that an elementary, but not definitive,
vision of how people would look in maturity can often be gleaned from their
parents, but this was uncanny. (I need hardly add that the impression was wholly
favourable respecting Diane, but I had earlier inferentially understood that there
was an eligible young buck against whom I was being measured, and if this were
so, I would have liked to measure up the competition. I had the feeling that I
didn’t quite make the grade.) But after a nice lunch, they took me on a drive
around the city, which appeared to comprise little other than suburbs with a small
downtown area of modest skyscrapers. A delightful place, actually, but even from
the perspective of New Zealand, a place distant from practically everywhere else.

The voyage across the Pacific was sufficiently pacific. I saw a little more of
Honolulu, again without seeing many more of its potential charms, but did not
get to visit the Arizona memorial, which I would like to have seen. But other than
that important symbol, I saw little that I could do in just a day; to see the place
properly would obviously require a lot more time.
Life on board was not relaxed, but by now I was so familiar with the ship
that I knew that it was time for a change; of ship, certainly; of lifestyle, probably.
One matter that did come up twice, however, was this old chestnut of marriage.
In Sandra’s arms in Sydney the issue was elliptically alluded to by her, but the
conversation was unproductive as I could not see a footloose fellow of twenty-
five, with no prospects, settling down until absolutely ready – if that could ever
occur. The second time the topic arose was during a tourist-class children’s bridge-

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