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Oracle Database 10g The Complete Reference 1st Edition
Kevin Loney Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Kevin Loney
ISBN(s): 9780130321244, 0130321249
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 6.29 MB
Year: 2004
Language: english

ORACLE Series TIGHT / Oracle Database 10g: TCR / Loney / 225351-7 / Front Matter
Blind Folio FM:i
Oracle Database 10g:
The Complete Reference
Kevin Loney
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About the Author
Kevin Loney is a senior technical management consultant with
TUSC (http://www.tusc.com), an Oracle-focused consultancy
headquartered in Chicago. He was selected as ORACLE Magazine’s
Consultant of the Year in 2002. He is an expert in the design,
development, administration, tuning, security, and recovery of
Oracle-based applications. An Oracle DBA and developer since
1987, he is the primary author of 15 books for Oracle DBAs and
developers. He is a frequent and highly-rated presenter at local
and international Oracle user groups.
About the Technical Reviewers
Pete Sharman has 16 years’ IT experience designing, implementing,
and managing the performance of Oracle solutions. As a solo
consultant and team leader, Pete has provided administrative and
technical leadership to leading Internet-based businesses as well
as several Fortune 100 and Fortune 500 companies. He has also
completed world-class benchmarks and implementation reviews
of the Oracle RDBMS, and performed high-impact performance
tuning. A proven technical leader, Pete has acquired expert-level
skills in Oracle Parallel Server and Real Application Clusters database
design, administration, backup and recovery, operations planning
and management, performance management, system management,
and security and management of complex data centers.
Currently, Pete is performing the role of Oracle9i and Oracle 10g
Database Global Consulting Lead, acting as an interface between
Oracle Development and North America Sales and Consulting.
Pete has also passed all the Oracle DBA Certifications (Oracle7,
Oracle8, Oracle8i, and Oracle9i) and was one of the first 20 people
in the world to qualify as an Oracle9i Certified Master.
Bob Bryla is an Oracle 8, 8i, 9i, and 10g Certified Professional with
more than 15 years of experience in database design, database
application development, training, and database administration,
and he is the tech editor and author of several Oracle Press and
Sybex Oracle DBA books. He is an Internet database analyst and
Oracle DBA at Lands’ End, Inc., in Dodgeville, Wisconsin.
Blind Folio FM:iv

ORACLE Series TIGHT / Oracle Database 10g: TCR / Loney / 225351-7 / Chapter 1
Blind Folio 1:v
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv
INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvii
PART I
Critical Database Concepts
1 Oracle Database 10g Architecture Options . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Databases and Instances . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Inside the Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Choosing Architectures and Options . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
2 Installing Oracle Database 10g and Creating a Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Overview of Licensing and Installation Options . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
3 Upgrading to Oracle Database 10g . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Choosing an Upgrade Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Before Upgrading . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
Using the Database Upgrade Assistant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
Performing a Manual Direct Upgrade . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Using Export and Import . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Using the Data-Copying Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
After Upgrading . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
4 Planning Oracle Applications—Approaches, Risks, and Standards . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
The Cooperative Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
Everyone Has “Data” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
The Familiar Language of Oracle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
Some Common, Everyday Examples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
What Are the Risks? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
The Importance of the New Vision . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
How to Reduce the Confusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
Capitalization in Names and Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
Normalizing Names . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
Good Design Has a Human Touch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
Understanding the Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Toward Object Name Normalization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
v

vi Oracle Database 10g: The Complete Reference
Blind Folio FM:vi
Intelligent Keys and Column Values . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
The Commandments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
PART II
SQL and SQL*Plus
5 The Basic Parts of Speech in SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
Style . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Creating the NEWSPAPER Table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
Using SQL to Select Data from Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
select, from, where, and order by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
Logic and Value . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Another Use for where: Subqueries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
Combining Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
Creating a View . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
6 Basic SQL*Plus Reports and Commands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
Building a Simple Report . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
Other Features . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
Checking the SQL*Plus Environment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120
Building Blocks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
7 Getting Text Information and Changing It . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Datatypes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
What Is a String? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
Notation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
Concatenation ( || ) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127
How to Cut and Paste Strings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128
Using order by and where with String Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
Review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
8 Searching for Regular Expressions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
Search Strings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150
REGEXP_SUBSTR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
9 Playing the Numbers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
The Three Classes of Number Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
Notation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
Single-Value Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168
Aggregate Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
List Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182
Finding Rows with MAX or MIN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
Precedence and Parentheses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185
Review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
10 Dates: Then, Now, and the Difference . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189
Date Arithmetic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
ROUND and TRUNC in Date Calculations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199

Contents vii
Blind Folio FM:vii
TO_DATE and TO_CHAR Formatting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Dates in where Clauses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
Dealing with Multiple Centuries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
Using the EXTRACT Function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
Using the TIMESTAMP Datatypes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
11 Conversion and Transformation Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
Elementary Conversion Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
Specialized Conversion Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
Transformation Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226
Review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
12 Grouping Things Together . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229
The Use of group by and having . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230
Views of Groups . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
The Power of Views of Groups . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
More Grouping Possibilities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
13 When One Query Depends upon Another . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
Advanced Subqueries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244
Outer Joins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
Natural and Inner Joins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
UNION, INTERSECT, and MINUS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 256
14 Some Complex Possibilities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
Complex Groupings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 262
Using Temporary Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
Using ROLLUP, GROUPING, and CUBE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
Family Trees and connect by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
15 Changing Data: insert, update, merge, and delete . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279
insert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
rollback, commit, and autocommit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283
Multitable Inserts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 285
delete . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289
update . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291
Using the merge Command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
16 DECODE and CASE: if, then, and else in SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 297
if, then, else . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298
Replacing Values via DECODE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
DECODE Within DECODE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 302
Greater Than and Less Than in DECODE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305
Using CASE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 307
17 Creating and Managing Tables, Views, Indexes, Clusters, and Sequences . . . . . . . . . 311
Creating a Table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 312
Dropping Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 320
Altering Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 321

Creating a Table from a Table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326
Creating an Index-Organized Table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327
Using Partitioned Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328
Creating a View . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333
Indexes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
Clusters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 342
Sequences . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 344
18 Basic Oracle Security . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345
Users, Roles, and Privileges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 346
What Users Can Grant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 353
Granting Limited Resources . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 367
PART III
Beyond the Basics
19 Advanced Security—Virtual Private Databases . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 371
Initial Configuration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 372
Create an Application Context . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373
Create a Logon Trigger . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 375
Create a Security Policy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376
Apply the Security Policy to Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377
Test VPD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 378
How to Implement Column-Level VPD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 379
How to Disable VPD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 380
How to Use Policy Groups . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381
20 Working with Tablespaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 383
Tablespaces and the Structure of the Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 384
Planning Your Tablespace Usage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389
21 Using SQL*Loader to Load Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391
The Control File . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 392
Starting the Load . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 394
Control File Syntax Notes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 398
Managing Data Loads . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400
Tuning Data Loads . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 402
Additional Features . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
22 Using Data Pump Export and Import . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405
Creating a Directory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406
Data Pump Export Options . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406
Starting a Data Pump Export Job . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 409
Data Pump Import Options . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
Starting a Data Pump Import Job . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416
23 Accessing Remote Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
Database Links . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Using Synonyms for Location Transparency . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
viii Oracle Database 10g: The Complete Reference
Blind Folio FM:viii

Using the User Pseudo-Column in Views . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 432
Dynamic Links: Using the SQL*Plus copy Command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434
Connecting to a Remote Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 435
24 Using Materialized Views . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
Functionality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438
Required System Privileges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438
Required Table Privileges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 439
Read-Only vs. Updatable . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 439
create materialized view Syntax . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Using Materialized Views to Alter Query Execution Paths . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 445
Using DBMS_ADVISOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 447
Refreshing Materialized Views . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 449
create materialized view log Syntax . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 455
Altering Materialized Views and Logs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
Dropping Materialized Views and Logs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 457
25 Using Oracle Text for Text Searches . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 459
Adding Text to the Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
Text Queries and Text Indexes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461
Index Sets . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
26 Using External Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 477
Accessing the External Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 478
Creating an External Table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 479
Altering External Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489
Limitations, Benefits, and Potential Uses of External Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490
27 Using Flashback Queries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 493
Time-Based Flashback Example . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 494
Saving the Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 496
SCN-Based Flashback Example . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497
What If the Flashback Query Fails? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499
What SCN Is Associated with Each Row? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499
Flashback Version Queries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
Planning for Flashbacks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502
28 Flashback—Tables and Databases . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
The flashback table Command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
The flashback database Command . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 507
PART IV
PL/SQL
29 An Introduction to PL/SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 513
PL/SQL Overview . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 514
Declarations Section . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 514
Executable Commands Section . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 518
Exception Handling Section . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 531
Contents ix
Blind Folio FM:ix

x Oracle Database 10g: The Complete Reference
Blind Folio FM:x
30 Triggers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 535
Types of Triggers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 537
Trigger Syntax . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 538
Enabling and Disabling Triggers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548
Replacing Triggers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 549
Dropping Triggers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 550
31 Procedures, Functions, and Packages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 555
Procedures vs. Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 558
Procedures vs. Packages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 558
create procedure Syntax . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 559
create function Syntax . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 561
create package Syntax . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 568
Viewing Source Code for Procedural Objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 572
Compiling Procedures, Functions, and Packages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 572
Replacing Procedures, Functions, and Packages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573
Dropping Procedures, Functions, and Packages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573
32 Using Native Dynamic SQL and DBMS_SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 575
Using EXECUTE IMMEDIATE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 576
Using Bind Variables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
Using DBMS_SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579
PART V
Object-Relational Databases
33 Implementing Types, Object Views, and Methods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 587
Working with Abstract Datatypes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 588
Implementing Object Views . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 593
Methods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 599
34 Collectors (Nested Tables and Varying Arrays) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 603
Varying Arrays . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 604
Nested Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 610
Additional Functions for Nested Tables and Varying Arrays . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 615
Management Issues for Nested Tables and Varying Arrays . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 615
35 Using Large Objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
Available Datatypes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
Specifying Storage for LOB Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 621
Manipulating and Selecting LOB Values . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 623

Contents xi
Blind Folio FM:xi
Row Objects vs. Column Objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Object Tables and OIDs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 648
Object Views with REFs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 656
Object PL/SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 661
Objects in the Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 662
PART VI
Java in Oracle
37 An Introduction to Java . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 667
Java vs. PL/SQL: An Overview . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 668
Getting Started . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 669
Declarations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 669
Executable Commands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 670
Classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 679
38 JDBC Programming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 685
Getting Started . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 686
Using the JDBC Classes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 688
39 Java Stored Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 697
Loading the Class into the Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 700
How to Access the Class . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 702
PART VII
Clustered Oracle—The Grid
40 Oracle Real Application Clusters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 709
Preinstallation Steps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 710
Installing RAC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 710
Starting and Stopping RAC Instances . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 714
Transparent Application Failover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 716
Adding Nodes and Instances to the Cluster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 717
Managing the Cluster Registry and Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 718
41 Grid Architecture and Management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 719
Hardware and Operating System Configuration Issues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 720
Adding Servers to the Grid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 723
Sharing Data Across the Grid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 724
Managing the Grid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 724
Launching OEM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 726
36 Advanced Object-Oriented Concepts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 647

A Note About Nomenclature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 732
New Views Introduced in Oracle Database 10g . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 733
New Columns Introduced in Oracle Database 10g . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 738
The Road Maps: DICTIONARY (DICT) and DICT_COLUMNS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 745
Things You Select From: Tables (and Columns), Views, Synonyms, and Sequences . . 746
Recycle Bin—USER_RECYCLEBIN and DBA_RECYCLEBIN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 755
Constraints and Comments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 755
Abstract Datatypes, ORDBMS-Related Structures, and LOBs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 764
Database Links and Materialized Views . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 767
Triggers, Procedures, Functions, and Packages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 770
Dimensions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 773
Space Allocation and Usage, Including Partitions and Subpartitions . . . . . . . . . . . . . 774
Users and Privileges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 780
Roles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 782
Auditing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 783
Miscellaneous . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 785
Monitoring: The V$ Dynamic Performance Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 785
43 The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Tuning Applications and SQL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 791
New Tuning Features in Oracle Database 10g . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 792
Tuning—Best Practices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 794
Generating and Reading Explain Plans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 803
Major Operations Within Explain Plans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 808
Implementing Stored Outlines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 831
Review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 833
44 Case Studies in Tuning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 835
Case Study 1: Waits, Waits, and More Waits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 836
Case Study 2: Application-Killing Queries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 839
Case Study 3: Long-Running Batch Jobs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 841
45 The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Oracle Application Server 10g . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 845
What Is Oracle Application Server 10g? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 847
Communication Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 854
Content Management Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 859
Business Logic Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 859
Presentation Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 861
Business Intelligence Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 863
Portal Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 865
Web Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 866
Developer Toolkits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 867
Persistence Layer Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 872
Caching Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 874
System Services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 876
Development Tools . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 878
xii Oracle Database 10g: The Complete Reference
Blind Folio FM:xii
PART VIII
Hitchhiker’s Guides
42 The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Oracle10g Data Dictionary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 731

Starting and Stopping the Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 887
Sizing and Managing Memory Areas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 888
Allocating and Managing Space for the Objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 891
Monitoring an Undo Tablespace . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 900
Automating Storage Management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 901
Segment Space Management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 902
Transporting Tablespaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 903
Performing Backups . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 904
Where to Go from Here . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 919
47 The Hitchhiker’s Guide to XML in Oracle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 921
Document Type Definitions, Elements, and Attributes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 922
XML Schema . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 926
Using XSU to Select, Insert, Update, and Delete XML Values . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 928
Using XMLType . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 934
Other Features . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 936
Alphabetical Reference . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 937
Contents xiii
Blind Folio FM:xiii
46 The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Database Administration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 885
Creating a Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 886

Blind Folio FM:xiv

Blind Folio FM:xv
Acknowledgments
This book is dedicated to my family. Thank you for your patience, support, and love.
This book is the product of many hands, and countless hours from many people. My thanks go
out to all those who helped, whether through their comments, feedback, edits, or suggestions.
For additional information about the book, see the publisher’s site (http://www.osborne.com)
and my site (http://www.kevinloney.com). Additional articles and presentations can be found
on the company site at http://www.tusc.com.
■ To the contributors and reviewers at TUSC, including Chris Ostrowski, Brad Brown,
and Shaun O’Brien.
■ To the management, including Rich Niemiec, Joe Trezzo, Brad Brown, and others for
their dedication to the Oracle user community and their commitment to establishing
and following best practices.
■ To my peers at TUSC, including Bill Callahan, Patrick Callahan, Tony Catalano, Holly
Clawson, Judy Corley, Mike Killough, Randy Swanson, Bob Taylor, Bob Yingst, and
many others for their insights and contributions.
Thanks to my colleagues and friends, including Eyal Aronoff, Steve Bobrowski, Rachel
Carmichael, Steven Feuerstein, Mike McDonnell, Vinny Smith, Susan St. Claire, and Marlene
Theriault. This book has benefited from the knowledge they have shared, and I have benefited
from their friendship and guidance.
Thanks to the folks at McGraw-Hill/Osborne who guided this product through its stages: Scott
Rogers, Athena Honore, Lisa McClain, Patty Mon, Bart Reed, Margaret Berson, Bill McManus, and
the others at Osborne with whom I never directly worked. Thanks to the reviewers, including
Pete Sharman and Bob Bryla (who also contributed material). Thanks also to the Oracle component
of Oracle Press. This book would not have been possible without the earlier excellent work of
George Koch and Robert Muller.
Thanks to the writers and friends along the way: Jerry Gross, Jan Riess, Robert Meissner, Marie
Paretti, Br. Declan Kane, CFX, Br. William Griffin, CFX, Chris O’Neill, Cheryl Bittner, Bill Fleming,
and the FSOUG board.
Special thanks to Sue, Emily, Rachel, Jane, and the rest of the home team. As always, this has
been a joint effort.
—Kevin Loney
xv

Blind Folio FM:xvi

Blind Folio FM:xvii
Introduction
Oracle documentation is thoroughgoing and voluminous, currently spanning multiple CDs.
Oracle Database 10g: The Complete Reference is the first entity that has gathered all the major Oracle
definitions, commands, functions, features, and products together in a single, massive core reference—
one volume that every Oracle user and developer can keep handy on his or her desk.
The audience for this book will usually fall into one of three categories:
■ An Oracle end user Oracle can easily be used for simple operations such as entering
data and running standard reports. But such an approach would ignore its great power;
it would be like buying a high-performance racing car and then pulling it around with a
horse. With the introduction provided in the first two sections of this book, even an end
user with little or no data processing background can become a proficient Oracle user—
generating ad hoc, English-language reports, guiding developers in the creation of new
features and functions, and improving the speed and accuracy of the real work done in
a business. The language of the book is simple, clear English without data processing
jargon, and with few assumptions about previous knowledge of computers or databases.
It will help beginners to become experts with an easy-to-follow format and numerous
real examples.
■ A developer who is new to Oracle With as many volumes of documentation as Oracle
provides, finding a key command or concept can be a time-consuming effort. This book
attempts to provide a more organized and efficient manner of learning the essentials of
the product. The format coaches a developer new to Oracle quickly through the basic
concepts, covers areas of common difficulty, examines misunderstandings of the product
and relational development, and sets clear guidelines for effective application building.
■ An experienced Oracle developer As with any product of great breadth and sophistication,
there are important issues about which little, if anything, has been published. Knowledge
comes through long experience, but is often not transferred to others. This book delves
deeply into many such subject areas (including new features such as the flashback options,
Data Pump, and many others). The text also reveals many common misconceptions and
suggests rigorous guidelines for application development and designing for performance
issues.
xvii

In Chapter 1, you will see a roadmap to the organization of this book. Briefly, the first part
of the book focuses on installing Oracle, upgrading from prior versions of Oracle, and reviewing
new features introduced with the latest version. The following sections provide guidance on the
technologies you use to exploit Oracle’s capabilities—SQL, PL/SQL, dynamic SQL, object-relational
features, Java, and more. The chapters progress from basic information on SQL to detailed examples
of complex programs.
The final two parts of the book contain the “hitchhiker’s guides”—guided tours of the data
dictionary, optimizer, tuning case studies, the application server, database administration, and
XML—and the Alphabetical Reference. The Alphabetical Reference contains the syntax and
description of all functions and commands supported by Oracle Database 10g. The reference
is intended for use by both developers and users of Oracle but assumes some familiarity with
the products.
xviii Oracle Database 10g: The Complete Reference
Blind Folio FM:xviii

Blind Folio 1:1
PART
I
Critical Database
Concepts

Blind Folio 1:2

Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents

"Damn it all. How could you ask such a tomfool question? You! I
took you to be an intelligent person. The only intelligent person I
know. Don't you know me?"
She made an effort to retain her stiffening.
"Isn't Mrs. Tietjens a truthful person?" she asked. "I thought she
looked truthful when I saw her at Vincent and Ethel's."
He said:
"What she says she believes. But she only believes what she wants
to, for the moment. If you call that truthful, she's truthful. I've
nothing against her." He said to himself: "I'm not going to appeal to
her by damning my wife."
She seemed to go all of a piece, as the hard outline goes suddenly
out of a piece of lump sugar upon which you drop water.
"Oh," she said, "it isn't true. I knew it wasn't true." She began to cry.
Christopher said:
"Come along. I've been answering tomfool questions all day. I've got
another tomfool to see here, then I'm through."
She said:
"I can't come with you, crying like this."
He answered:
"Oh, yes you can. This is the place where women cry." He added:
"Besides there's Mark. He's a comforting ass."
He delivered her over to Mark.
"Here, look after Miss Wannop," he said. "You want to talk to her
anyhow, don't you?" and he hurried ahead of them like a fussy
shopwalker into the lugubrious hall. He felt that, if he didn't come
soon to an unemotional ass in red, green, blue or pink tabs, who
would have fishlike eyes and would ask the sort of questions that
fishes ask in tanks, he, too, must break down and cry. With relief!
However, that was a place where men cried, too!

He got through at once by sheer weight of personality, down miles
of corridors, into the presence of a quite intelligent, thin, dark
person with scarlet tabs. That meant a superior staff affair: not
dustbins.
The dark man said to him at once:
"Look here! What's the matter with the Command Depôts? You've
been lecturing a lot of them. In economy. What are all these damn
mutinies about? Is it the rotten old colonels in command?"
Tietjens said amiably:
"Look here! I'm not a beastly spy, you know? I've had hospitality
from the rotten old colonels."
The dark man said:
"I daresay you have. But that's what you were sent round for.
General Campion said you were the brainiest chap in his command.
He's gone out now, worse luck. . . . What's the matter with the
Command Depôts? Is it the men? Or is it the officers? You needn't
mention names."
Tietjens said:
"Kind of Campion. It isn't the officers and it isn't the men. It's the
foul system. You get men who think they've deserved well of their
country—and they damn well have!—and you crop their heads. . . ."
"That's the M.O.s." the dark man said. "They don't want lice."
"If they prefer mutinies . . ." Tietjens said. "A man wants to walk
with his girl and have a properly oiled quiff. They don't like being
regarded as convicts. That's how they are regarded."
The dark man said:
"All right. Go on. Why don't you sit down?"
"I'm a little in a hurry," Tietjens said. "I'm going out to-morrow and
I've got a brother and people waiting below."
The dark man said:

"Oh, I'm sorry. . . . But damn. You're the sort of man we want at
home. Do you want to go? We can, no doubt, get you stopped if you
don't."
Tietjens hesitated for a moment.
"Yes!" he said eventually. "Yes, I want to go."
For the moment he had felt temptation to stay. But it came into his
discouraged mind that Mark had said that Sylvia was in love with
him. It had been underneath his thoughts all the while: it had struck
him at the time like a kick from the hind leg of a mule in his
subliminal consciousness. It was the impossible complication. It
might not be true; but, whether or no, the best thing for him was to
go and get wiped out as soon as possible. He meant, nevertheless,
fiercely, to have his night with the girl who was crying downstairs. . .
.
He heard in his ear, perfectly distinctly, the lines:
"The voice that never yet . . .
Made answer to my word . . ."
He said to himself:
"That was what Sylvia wanted! I've got that much!" The dark man
had said something. Tietjens repeated:
"I'd take it very unkindly if you stopped my going . . . I want to go."
The dark man said:
"Some do. Some do not. I'll make a note of your name in case you
come back . . . You won't mind going on with your cinder-sifting, if
you do? . . . Get on with your story as quick as you can. And get
what fun you can before you go. They say it's rotten out there.
Damn awful! There's a hell of a strafe on. That's why they want all
you."
For a moment Tietjens saw the grey dawn at rail-head with the
distant sound of a ceaselessly boiling pot, from miles away! The

army feeling re-descended upon him. He began to talk about
Command Depôts, at great length and with enthusiasm. He snorted
with rage at the way men were treated in these gloomy places. With
ingenious stupidity!
Every now and then the dark man interrupted him with:
"Don't forget that a Command Depôt is a place where sick and
wounded go to get made fit. We've got to get 'em back as soon as
we can."
"And do you?" Tietjens would ask.
"No, we don't," the other would answer. "That's what this enquiry is
about."
"You've got," Tietjens would continue, "on the north side of a beastly
clay hill nine miles from Southampton three thousand men from the
Highlands, North Wales, Cumberland. . . . God knows where, as long
as it's three hundred miles from home to make them rather mad
with nostalgia. . . . You allow 'em out for an hour a day during the
pub's closing time: you shave their heads to prevent 'em appealing
to local young women who don't exist, and you don't let 'em carry
the swagger-canes! God knows why! To prevent their poking their
eyes out, if they fall down, I suppose. Nine miles from anywhere,
with chalk down roads to walk on and not a bush for shelter or
shade . . . And, damn it, if you get two men, chums, from the
Seaforths or the Argylls you don't let them sleep in the same hut,
but shove 'em in with a lot of fat Buffs or Welshmen, who stink of
leeks and can't speak English. . . ."
"That's the infernal medicals' orders to stop 'em talking all night."
"To make 'em conspire all night not to turn-out for parade," Tietjens
said. "And there's a beastly mutiny begun. . . . And, damn it, they're
fine men. They're first-class fellows. Why don't you—as this is a
Christian land—let 'em go home to convalesce with their girls and
pubs and friends and a little bit of swank, for heroes? Why in God's
name don't you? Isn't there suffering enough?"

"I wish you wouldn't say 'you,'" the dark man said. "It isn't me. The
only A.C.I. I've drafted was to give every Command Depôt a cinema
and a theatre. But the beastly medicals got it stopped . . . for fear of
infection. And, of course, the parsons and Nonconformist
magistrates . . ."
"Well, you'll have to change it all," Tietjens said, "or you'll just have
to say: thank God we've got a navy. You won't have an army. The
other day three fellows—Warwicks—asked me at question time, after
a lecture, why they were shut up there in Wiltshire whilst Belgian
refugees were getting bastards on their wives in Birmingham. And
when I asked how many men made that complaint over fifty stood
up. All from Birmingham. . . ."
The dark man said:
"I'll make a note of that. . . . Go on."
Tietjens went on; for as long as he stayed there he felt himself a
man, doing work that befitted a man, with the bitter contempt for
fools that a man should have and express. It was a letting up: a real
last leave.
IV
Mark Tietjens, his umbrella swinging sheepishly, his bowler hat
pushed firmly down on to his ears to give him a sense of stability,
walked beside the weeping girl in the quadrangle.
"I say," he said, "don't give it to old Christopher too beastly hard
about his militarist opinions. . . . Remember, he's going out to-
morrow and he's one of the best."
She looked at him quickly, tears remaining upon her cheeks, and
then away.

"One of the best," Mark said. "A fellow who never told a lie or did a
dishonourable thing in his life. Let him down easy, there's a good
girl. You ought to, you know."
The girl, her face turned away, said:
"I'd lay down my life for him!"
Mark said:
"I know you would. I know a good woman when I see one. And
think! He probably considers that he is . . . offering his life, you
know, for you. And me, too, of course! . . . It's a different way of
looking at things." He gripped her awkwardly but irresistibly by the
upper arm. It was very thin under her blue cloth coat. He said to
himself:
"By Jove! Christopher likes them skinny. It's the athletic sort that
attracts him. This girl is as clean run as . . ." He couldn't think of
anything as clean run as Miss Wannop, but he felt a warm
satisfaction at having achieved an intimacy with her and his brother.
He said:
"You aren't going away? Not without a kinder word to him. You
think! He might be killed. . . . Besides. Probably he's never killed a
German. He was a liaison officer. Since then he's been in charge of a
dump where they sift army dustbins. To see how they can give the
men less to eat. That means that the civilians get more. You don't
object to his giving civilians more meat? . . . It isn't even helping to
kill Germans. . . ."
He felt her arm press his hand against her warm side.
"What's he going to do now?" she asked. Her voice wavered.
"That's what I'm here about," Mark said. "I'm going in to see old
Hogarth. You don't know Hogarth? Old General Hogarth? I think I
can get him to give Christopher a job with the transport. A safe job.
Safeish! No beastly glory business about it. No killing beastly
Germans either. . . . I beg your pardon, if you like Germans."

She drew her arm from his hand in order to look him in the face.
"Oh!" she said, "you don't want him to have any beastly military
glory!" The colour came back into her face: she looked at him open
eyed.
He said:
"No! Why the devil should he?" He said to himself: "She's got
enormous eyes: a good neck: good shoulders: good breasts: clean
hips: small hands. She isn't knock-kneed: neat ankles. She stands
well on her feet. Feet not too large! Five foot four, say! A real good
filly!" He went on aloud: "Why in the world should he want to be a
beastly soldier? He's the heir to Groby. That ought to be enough for
one man."
Having stood still sufficiently long for what she knew to be his critical
inspection, she put her hand in turn, precipitately, under his arm and
moved him towards the entrance steps.
"Let's be quick then," she said. "Let's get him into your transport at
once. Before he goes to-morrow. Then we'll know he's safe."
He was puzzled by her dress. It was very business-like, dark blue
and very short. A white blouse with a black silk, man's tie. A
wideawake, with, on the front of the band, a cipher.
"You're in uniform yourself," he said. "Does your conscience let you
do war work?"
She said:
"No. We're hard up. I'm taking the gym classes in a great big school
to turn an honest penny. . . . Do be quick!"
Her pressure on his elbow flattered him. He resisted it a little,
hanging back, to make her more insistent. He liked being pleaded
with by a pretty woman: Christopher's girl at that.
He said:

"Oh, it's not a matter of minutes. They keep 'em weeks at the base
before they send 'em up. . . . We'll fix him up all right, I've no doubt.
We'll wait in the hall till he comes down."
He told the benevolent commissionaire, one of two in a pulpit in the
crowded grim hall, that he was going up to see General Hogarth in a
minute or two. But not to send a bell-boy. He might be some time
yet.
He sat himself beside Miss Wannop, clumsily on a wooden bench,
humanity serging over their toes as if they had been on a beach.
She moved a little to make room for him and that, too, made him
feel good. He said:
"You said just now: 'we' are hard up. Does 'we' mean you and
Christopher?"
She said:
"I and Mr. Tietjens. Oh, no! I and mother! The paper she used to
write for stopped. When your father died, I believe. He found money
for it, I think. And mother isn't suited to free-lancing. She's worked
too hard in her life."
He looked at her, his round eyes protruding.
"I don't know what that is, free-lancing," he said. "But you've got to
be comfortable. How much do you and your mother need to keep
you comfortable? And put in a bit more so that Christopher could
have a mutton-chop now and then!"
She hadn't really been listening. He said with some insistence: "Look
here! I'm here on business. Not like an elderly admirer forcing
himself on you. Though, by God, I do admire you too. . . . But my
father wanted your mother to be comfortable. . . ."
Her face, turned to him, became rigid.
"You don't mean . . ." she began. He said:
"You won't get it any quicker by interrupting. I have to tell my
stories in my own way. My father wanted your mother to be

comfortable. He said so that she could write books, not papers. I
don't know what the difference is: that's what he said. He wants you
to be comfortable too. . . . You've not got any encumbrances? Not . .
. oh, say a business: a hat shop that doesn't pay? Some girls have. .
. ."
She said: "No. I just teach . . . oh, do be quick. . . ."
For the first time in his life he dislocated the course of his thoughts
to satisfy a longing in some one else.
"You may take it to go on with," he said, "as if my father had left
your mother a nice little plum." He cast about to find his scattered
thoughts.
"He has! He has! After all!" the girl said. "Oh, thank God!"
"There'll be a bit for you, if you like," Mark said, "or perhaps
Christopher won't let you. He's ratty with me. And something for
your brother to buy a doctor's business with." He asked: "You
haven't fainted, have you?" She said:
"No. I don't faint. I cry."
"That'll be all right," he answered. He went on: "That's your side of
it. Now for mine. I want Christopher to have a place where he'll be
sure of a mutton-chop and an arm-chair by the fire. And someone to
be good for him. You're good for him. I can see that. I know
women!"
The girl was crying, softly and continuously. It was the first moment
of the lifting of strain that she had known since the day before the
Germans crossed the Belgian frontier, near a place called
Gemmenich.
It had begun with the return of Mrs. Duchemin from Scotland. She
had sent at once for Miss Wannop to the rectory, late at night. By
the light of candles in tall silver stocks, against oak panelling she had
seemed like a mad block of marble, with staring, dark eyes and mad
hair. She had exclaimed in a voice as hard as a machine's:

"How do you get rid of a baby? You've been a servant. You ought to
know!"
That had been the great shock, the turning-point, of Valentine
Wannop's life. Her last years before that had been of great
tranquillity, tinged of course with melancholy because she loved
Christopher Tietjens. But she had early learned to do without, and
the world as she saw it was a place of renunciations, of high
endeavour and sacrifice. Tietjens had to be a man who came to see
her mother and talked wonderfully. She had been happy when he
had been in the house—she in the housemaid's pantry, getting the
tea-things. She had, besides, been very hard worked for her mother;
the weather had been, on the whole, good, the corner of the
country in which they lived had continued to seem fresh and
agreeable. She had had excellent health, got an occasional ride on
the qui-tamer with which Tietjens had replaced Joel's rig; and her
brother had done admirably at Eton, taking such a number of
exhibitions and things that, once at Magdalen, he had been nearly
off his mother's hands. An admirable, gay boy, not unlikely to run
for, as well as being a credit to, his university, if he didn't get sent
down for his political extravagances. He was a Communist!
And at the rectory there had been the Duchemins, or rather Mrs.
Duchemin and, during most week-ends, Macmaster somewhere
about.
The passion of Macmaster for Edith Ethel and of Edith Ethel for
Macmaster had seemed to her one of the beautiful things of life.
They seemed to swim in a sea of renunciations, of beautiful
quotations, and of steadfast waiting. Macmaster did not interest her
personally much, but she took him on trust because of Edith Ethel's
romantic passion and because he was Christopher Tietjens' friend.
She had never heard him say anything original; when he used
quotations they would be apt rather than striking. But she took it for
granted that he was the right man—much as you take it for granted
that the engine of an express train in which you are is reliable. The
right people have chosen it for you. . . .

With Mrs. Duchemin, mad before her, she had the first intimation
that her idolised friend, in whom she had believed as she had
believed in the firmness of the great, sunny earth, had been the
mistress of her lover—almost since the first day she had seen him. .
. . And that Mrs. Duchemin had, stored somewhere, a character of
an extreme harshness and great vulgarity of language. She raged up
and down in the candlelight, before the dark oak panelling,
screaming coarse phrases of the deepest hatred for her lover. Didn't
the oaf know his business better than to . . .? The dirty little Port of
Leith fish-handler. . . .
What, then, were tall candles in silver sticks for? And polished
panelling in galleries?
Valentine Wannop couldn't have been a little ash-cat in worn cotton
dresses, sleeping under the stairs, in an Ealing household with a
drunken cook, an invalid mistress and three over-fed men, without
acquiring a considerable knowledge of the sexual necessities and
excesses of humanity. But, as all the poorer helots of great cities
hearten their lives by dreaming of material beauties, elegance, and
suave wealth, she had always considered that, far from the world of
Ealing and its county councillors who over-ate and neighed like
stallions, there were bright colonies of beings, chaste, beautiful in
thought, altruist and circumspect.
And, till that moment, she had imagined herself on the skirts of such
a colony. She presupposed a society of beautiful intellects centring in
London round her friends. Ealing she just put out of her mind. She
considered: she had, indeed once heard Tietjens say that humanity
was made up of exact and constructive intellects on the one hand
and on the other of stuff to fill graveyards. . . . Now, what had
become of the exact and constructive intellects?
Worst of all, what became of her beautiful inclination towards
Tietjens, for she couldn't regard it as anything more? Couldn't her
heart sing any more whilst she was in the housemaid's pantry and
he in her mother's study? And what became, still more, of what she
knew to be Tietjens' beautiful inclination towards her? She asked

herself the eternal question—and she knew it to be the eternal
question—whether no man and woman can ever leave it at the
beautiful inclination. And, looking at Mrs. Duchemin, rushing
backwards and forwards in the light of candles, blue-white of face
and her hair flying, Valentine Wannop said: "No! no! The tiger lying
in the reeds will always raise its head!" But tiger . . . it was more like
a peacock. . . .
Tietjens, raising his head from the other side of the tea-table and
looking at her with his long, meditative glance from beside her
mother: ought he then, instead of blue and protruding, to have eyes
divided longitudinally in the blacks of them—that should divide,
closing or dilating, on a yellow ground, with green glowings of
furtive light?
She was aware that Edith Ethel had done her an irreparable wrong,
for you cannot suffer a great sexual shock and ever be the same. Or
not for years. Nevertheless she stayed with Mrs. Duchemin until far
into the small hours, when that lady fell, a mere parcel of bones in a
peacock blue wrapper, into a deep chair and refused to move or
speak; nor did she afterwards slacken in her faithful waiting on her
friend. . . .
On the next day came the war. That was a nightmare of pure
suffering, with never a let-up, day or night. It began on the morning
of the fourth with the arrival of her brother from some sort of Oxford
Communist Summer School on the Broads. He was wearing a
German corps student's cap and was very drunk. He had been
seeing German friends off from Harwich. It was the first time she
had ever seen a drunken man, so that was a good present to her.
Next day, and sober, he was almost worse. A handsome, dark boy
like his father, he had his mother's hooked nose and was always a
little imbalanced: not mad, but always over-violent in any views he
happened for the moment to hold. At the Summer School he had
been under very vitriolic teachers of all sorts of notions. That hadn't
hitherto mattered. Her mother had written for a Tory paper: her

brother, when he had been at home, had edited some sort of Oxford
organ of disruption. But her mother had only chuckled.
The war changed that. Both seemed to be filled with a desire for
blood and to torture: neither paid the least attention to the other. It
was as if—so for the rest of those years the remembrance of that
time lived with her—in one corner of the room her mother, ageing,
and on her knees, from which she only with difficulty rose, shouted
hoarse prayers to God, to let her, with her own hands, strangle,
torture, and flay off all his skin, a being called the Kaiser, and as if, in
the other corner of the room, her brother, erect, dark, scowling and
vitriolic, one hand clenched above his head, called down the curse of
heaven on the British soldier, so that in thousands, he might die in
agony, the blood spouting from his scalded lungs. It appeared that
the Communist leader whom Edward Wannop affected had had ill-
success in his attempts to cause disaffection among some units or
other of the British army, and had failed rather gallingly, being
laughed at or ignored rather than being ducked in a horse-pond,
shot or otherwise martyrised. That made it obvious that the British
man in the ranks was responsible for the war. If those ignoble
hirelings had refused to fight all the other embattled and terrorised
millions would have thrown down their arms!
Across that dreadful phantasmagoria went the figure of Tietjens. He
was in doubt. She heard him several times voice his doubts to her
mother, who grew every day more vacant. One day Mrs. Wannop
had said:
"What does your wife think about it?"
Tietjens had answered:
"Oh, Mrs. Tietjens is a pro-German. . . . Or no, that isn't exact! She
has German prisoner-friends and looks after them. But she spends
nearly all her time in retreat in a convent reading novels of before
the war. She can't bear the thought of physical suffering. I can't
blame her."
Mrs. Wannop was no longer listening: her daughter was.

For Valentine Wannop the war had turned Tietjens into far more of a
man and far less of an inclination—the war and Mrs. Duchemin
between them. He had seemed to grow less infallible. A man with
doubts is more of a man, with eyes, hands, the need for food and
for buttons to be sewn on. She had actually tightened up a loose
glove button for him.
One Friday afternoon at Macmaster's she had had a long talk with
him: the first she had had since the drive and the accident.
Ever since Macmaster had instituted his Friday afternoons—and that
had been some time before the war—Valentine Wannop had
accompanied Mrs. Duchemin to town by the morning train and back
at night to the rectory. Valentine poured out the tea, Mrs. Duchemin
drifting about the large book-lined room amongst the geniuses and
superior journalists.
On this occasion—a November day of very chilly, wet—there had
been next to nobody present, the preceding Friday having been
unusually full. Macmaster and Mrs. Duchemin had taken a Mr.
Spong, an architect, into the dining-room to inspect an unusually
fine set of Piranesi's Views of Rome that Tietjens had picked up
somewhere and had given to Macmaster. A Mr. Jegg and a Mrs.
Haviland were sitting close together in the far window-seat. They
were talking in low tones. From time to time Mr. Jegg used the word
"inhibition." Tietjens rose from the fire-seat on which he had been
sitting and came to her. He ordered her to bring her cup of tea over
by the fire and talk to him. She obeyed. They sat side by side on the
leather fire-seat that stood on polished brass rails, the fire warming
their backs. He said:
"Well, Miss Wannop. What have you been doing?" and they drifted
into talking of the war. You couldn't not. She was astonished not to
find him so loathsome as she had expected, for, just at that time,
with the facts that were always being driven into her mind by the
pacifist friends of her brother and with continual brooding over the
morals of Mrs. Duchemin, she had an automatic feeling that all
manly men were lust-filled devils, desiring nothing better than to

stride over battlefields, stabbing the wounded with long daggers in
frenzies of sadism. She knew that this view of Tietjens was wrong,
but she cherished it.
She found him—as subconsciously she knew he was—astonishingly
mild. She had too often watched him whilst he listened to her
mother's tirades against the Kaiser, not to know that. He did not
raise his voice, he showed no emotion. He said at last:
"You and I are like two people . . ." He paused and began again
more quickly: "Do you know these soap advertisement signs that
read differently from several angles? As you come up to them you
read 'Monkey's Soap'; if you look back when you've passed it's
'Needs no Rinsing.' . . . You and I are standing at different angles
and though we both look at the same thing we read different
messages. Perhaps if we stood side by side we should see yet a
third. . . . But I hope we respect each other. We're both honest. I, at
least, tremendously respect you and I hope you respect me."
She kept silent. Behind their backs the fire rustled. Mr. Jegg, across
the room, said: "The failure to co-ordinate . . ." and then dropped
his voice.
Tietjens looked at her attentively.
"You don't respect me?" he asked. She kept obstinately silent.
"I'd have liked you to have said it," he repeated.
"Oh," she cried out, "how can I respect you when there is all this
suffering? So much pain! Such torture . . . I can't sleep . . . Never . .
. I haven't slept a whole night since . . . Think of the immense
spaces, stretching out under the night . . . I believe pain and fear
must be worse at night. . . ." She knew she was crying out like that
because her dread had come true. When he had said: "I'd have liked
you to have said it," using the past, he had said his valedictory. Her
man, too, was going.
And she knew too: she had always known under her mind and now
she confessed it: her agony had been, half of it, because one day he

would say farewell to her: like that, with the inflexion of a verb. As,
just occasionally, using the word "we"—and perhaps without
intention—he had let her know that he loved her.
Mr. Jegg drifted across from the window: Mrs. Haviland was already
at the door.
"We'll leave you to have your war talk out," Mr. Jegg said. He added:
"For myself, I believe it's one's sole duty to preserve the beauty of
things that's preservable. I can't help saying that."
She was alone with Tietjens and the quiet day. She said to herself:
"Now he must take me in his arms. He must. He must!" The deepest
of her instincts came to the surface, from beneath layers of thought
hardly known to her. She could feel his arms round her: she had in
her nostrils the peculiar scent of his hair—like the scent of the skin
of an apple, but very faint. "You must! You must!" she said to
herself. There came back to her overpoweringly the memory of their
drive together and the moment, the overwhelming moment, when,
climbing out of the white fog into the blinding air, she had felt the
impulse of his whole body towards her and the impulse of her whole
body towards him. A sudden lapse: like the momentary dream when
you fall. . . . She saw the white disk of the sun over the silver mist
and behind them was the long, warm night. . . .
Tietjens sat, huddled rather together, dejectedly, the firelight playing
on the silver places of his hair. It had grown nearly dark outside:
they had a sense of the large room that, almost week by week, had
grown, for its gleams of gilding and hand-polished dark woods, more
like the great dining-room at the Duchemins. He got down from the
fire-seat with a weary movement, as if the fire-seat had been very
high. He said, with a little bitterness, but as if with more fatigue:
"Well, I've got the business of telling Macmaster that I'm leaving the
office. That, too, won't be an agreeable affair! Not that what poor
Vinnie thinks matters." He added: "It's queer, dear . . ." In the
tumult of her emotions she was almost certain that he had said
"dear." . . . "Not three hours ago my wife used to me almost the

exact words you have just used. Almost the exact words. She talked
of her inability to sleep at night for thinking of immense spaces full
of pain that was worse at night. . . . And she, too, said that she
could not respect me. . . ."
She sprang up.
"Oh," she said, "she didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. Almost every
man who is a man must do as you are doing. But don't you see it's a
desperate attempt to get you to stay: an attempt on moral lines?
How can we leave any stone unturned that could keep us from
losing our men?" She added, and it was another stone that she
didn't leave unturned: "Besides, how can you reconcile it with your
sense of duty, even from your point of view? You're more useful—
you know you're more useful to your country here than . . ."
He stood over her, stooping a little, somehow suggesting great
gentleness and concern.
"I can't reconcile it with my conscience," he said. "In this affair there
is nothing that any man can reconcile with his conscience. I don't
mean that we oughtn't to be in this affair and on the side we're on.
We ought. But I'll put to you things I have put to no other soul."
The simplicity of his revelation seemed to her to put to shame any of
the glibnesses she had heard. It appeared to her as if a child were
speaking. He described the disillusionment it had cost him personally
as soon as this country had come into the war. He even described
the sunlit heather landscape of the north, where naïvely he had
made his tranquil resolution to join the French Foreign Legion as a
common soldier and his conviction that that would give him, as he
called it, clean bones again.
That, he said, had been straightforward. Now there was nothing
straightforward: for him or for any man. One could have fought with
a clean heart for a civilisation: if you like for the eighteenth century
against the twentieth, since that was what fighting for France
against the enemy countries meant. But our coming in had changed
the aspect at once. It was one part of the twentieth century using

the eighteenth as a catspaw to bash the other half of the twentieth.
It was true there was nothing else for it. And as long as we did it in
a decent spirit it was just bearable. One could keep at one's job—
which was faking statistics against the other fellow—until you were
sick and tired of faking and your brain reeled. And then some!
It was probably impolitic to fake—to overstate!—a case against
enemy nations. The chickens would come home to roost in one way
or another, probably. Perhaps they wouldn't. That was a matter for
one's superiors. Obviously! And the first gang had been simple,
honest fellows. Stupid, but relatively disinterested. But now! . . .
What was one to do? . . . He went on, almost mumbling. . . .
She had suddenly a clear view of him as a man extraordinarily clear-
sighted in the affairs of others, in great affairs, but in his own so
simple as to be almost a baby. And gentle! And extraordinarily
unselfish. He didn't betray one thought of self-interest . . . not one!
He was saying:
"But now! . . . with this crowd of boodlers! . . . Supposing one's
asked to manipulate the figures of millions of pairs of boots in order
to force someone else to send some miserable general and his
troops to, say, Salonika—when they and you and common-sense and
everyone and everything else, know it's disastrous? . . . And from
that to monkeying with our own forces. . . . Starving particular units
for political . . ." He was talking to himself, not to her. And indeed he
said:
"I can't, you see, talk really before you. For all I know your
sympathies, perhaps your activities, are with the enemy nations."
She said passionately:
"They're not! They're not! How dare you say such a thing?"
He answered:
"It doesn't matter . . . No! I'm sure you're not . . . But, anyhow,
these things are official. One can't, if one's scrupulous, even talk
about them . . . And then . . . You see it means such infinite deaths

of men, such an infinite prolongation . . . all this interference for
side-ends! . . . I seem to see these fellows with clouds of blood over
their heads. . . . And then . . . I'm to carry out their orders because
they're my superiors. . . . But helping them means unnumbered
deaths. . . ."
He looked at her with a faint, almost humorous smile:
"You see!" he said, "we're perhaps not so very far apart! You mustn't
think you're the only one that sees all the deaths and all the
sufferings. All, you see: I, too, am a conscientious objector. My
conscience won't let me continue any longer with these fellows. . . ."
She said:
"But isn't there any other . . ."
He interrupted:
"No! There's no other course. One is either a body or a brain in
these affairs. I suppose I'm more brain than body. I suppose so.
Perhaps I'm not. But my conscience won't let me use my brain in
this service. So I've a great, hulking body! I'll admit I'm probably not
much good. But I've nothing to live for: what I stand for isn't any
more in this world What I want, as you know, I can't have. So . . ."
She exclaimed bitterly:
"Oh, say it! Say it! Say that your large hulking body will stop two
bullets in front of two small anæmic fellows. . . . And how can you
say you'll have nothing to live for? You'll come back. You'll do your
good work again. You know you did good work . . ."
He said:
"Yes! I believe I did. I used to despise it, but I've come to believe I
did. . . . But no! They'll never let me back. They've got me out, with
all sorts of bad marks against me. They'll pursue me, systematically.
. . . You see in such a world as this, an idealist—or perhaps it's only
a sentimentalist—must be stoned to death. He makes the others so
uncomfortable. He haunts them at their golf. . . . No; they'll get me,

one way or the other. And some fellow—Macmaster here—will do my
jobs. He won't do them so well, but he'll do them more dishonestly.
Or no. I oughtn't to say dishonestly. He'll do them with enthusiasm
and righteousness. He'll fulfil the order of his superiors with an
immense docility and unction. He'll fake figures against our allies
with the black enthusiasm of a Calvin and, when that war comes,
he'll do the requisite faking with the righteous wrath of Jehovah
smiting the priests of Baal. And he'll be right. It's all we're fitted for.
We ought never to have come into this war. We ought to have
snaffled other peoples' colonies as the price of neutrality. . . ."
"Oh!" Valentine Wannop said, "how can you so hate your country?"
He said with great earnestness:
"Don't say it! Don't believe it! Don't even for a moment think it! I
love every inch of its fields and every plant in the hedgerows:
comfrey, mullein, paigles, long red purples, that liberal shepherds
give a grosser name . . . and all the rest of the rubbish—you
remember the field between the Duchemins and your mother's—and
we have always been boodlers and robbers and reivers and pirates
and cattle thieves, and so we've built up the great tradition that we
love. . . . But, for the moment, it's painful. Our present crowd is not
more corrupt than Walpole's. But one's too near them. One sees of
Walpole that he consolidated the nation by building up the National
Debt: one doesn't see his methods. . . . My son, or his son, will only
see the glory of the boodle we make out of this show. Or rather out
of the next. He won't know about the methods. They'll teach him at
school that across the counties went the sound of bugles that his
father knew. . . . Though that was another discreditable affair. . . ."
"But you!" Valentine Wannop exclaimed. "You! what will you do!
After the war!"
"I!" he said rather bewilderedly. "I! . . . Oh, I shall go into the old
furniture business. I've been offered a job. . . ."
She didn't believe he was serious. He hadn't, she knew, ever thought
about his future. But suddenly she had a vision of his white head

and pale face in the back glooms of a shop full of dusty things. He
would come out, get heavily on to a dusty bicycle and ride off to a
cottage sale. She cried out:
"Why don't you do it at once? Why don't you take the job at once?"
for in the back of the dark shop he would at least be safe.
He said:
"Oh, no! Not at this time! Besides the old furniture trade's probably
not itself for the minute. . . ." He was obviously thinking of
something else.
"I've probably been a low cad," he said, "wringing your heart with
my doubts. But I wanted to see where our similarities come in.
We've always been—or we've seemed always to me—so alike in our
thoughts. I daresay I wanted you to respect me. . . ."
"Oh, I respect you! I respect you!" she said. "You're as innocent as a
child."
He went on:
"And I wanted to get some thinking done. It hasn't been often of
late that one has had a quiet room and a fire and . . . you! To think
in front of. You do make one collect one's thoughts. I've been very
muddled till to-day . . . till five minutes ago! Do you remember our
drive? You analysed my character. I'd never have let another soul. . .
But you see . . . Don't you see?"
She said:
"No! What am I to see? I remember . . ."
He said:
"That I'm certainly not an English country gentleman now; picking
up the gossip of the horse markets and saying: let the country go to
hell, for me!"
She said:
"Did I say that? . . . Yes, I said that!"

The deep waves of emotion came over her: she trembled. She
stretched out her arms. . . . She thought she stretched out her arms.
He was hardly visible in the firelight. But she could see nothing: she
was blind for tears. She could hardly be stretching out her arms, for
she had both hands to her handkerchief on her eyes. He said
something: it was no word of love or she would have held it; it
began with: "Well, I must be . . ." He was silent for a long time: she
imagined herself to feel great waves coming from him to her. But he
wasn't in the room. . . .
The rest, till that moment at the War Office, had been pure agony,
and unrelenting. Her mother's paper cut down her money; no orders
for serials came in: her mother, obviously, was failing. The eternal
diatribes of her brother were like lashes upon her skin. He seemed
to be praying Tietjens to death. Of Tietjens she saw and heard
nothing. At the Macmasters she heard, once, that he had just gone
out. It added to her desire to scream when she saw a newspaper.
Poverty invaded them. The police raided the house in search of her
brother and his friends. Then her brother went to prison:
somewhere in the Midlands. The friendliness of their former
neighbours turned to surly suspicion. They could get no milk. Food
became almost unprocurable without going to long distances. For
three days Mrs. Wannop was clean out of her mind. Then she grew
better and began to write a new book. It promised to be rather
good. But there was no publisher. Edward came out of prison, full of
good-humour and boisterousness. They seemed to have had a great
deal to drink in prison. But, hearing that his mother had gone mad
over that disgrace, after a terrible scene with Valentine, in which he
accused her of being the mistress of Tietjens and therefore militarist,
he consented to let his mother use her influence—of which she had
still some—to get him appointed as an A.B. on a mine-sweeper.
Great winds became an agony to Valentine Wannop in addition to
the unbearable sounds of firing that came continuously over the sea.
Her mother grew much better: she took pride in having a son in a
service. She was then the more able to appreciate the fact that her
paper stopped payment altogether. A small mob on the fifth of

November burned Mrs. Wannop in effigy in front of their cottage and
broke their lower windows. Mrs. Wannop ran out and in the
illumination of the fire knocked down two farm labourer
hobbledehoys. It was terrible to see Mrs. Wannop's grey hair in the
firelight. After that the butcher refused them meat altogether, ration
card or no ration card. It was imperative that they should move to
London.
The marsh horizon became obscured with giant stilts: the air above
it filled with aeroplanes: the roads covered with military cars. There
was then no getting away from the sounds of the war.
Just as they had decided to move Tietjens came back. It was for a
moment heaven to have him in this country. But when, a month
later, Valentine Wannop saw him for a minute, he seemed very
heavy, aged and dull. It was then almost as bad as before, for it
seemed to Valentine as if he hardly had his reason.
On hearing that Tietjens was to be quartered—or, at any rate,
occupied—in the neighbourhood of Ealing, Mrs. Wannop at once
took a small house in Bedford Park, whilst, to make ends meet—for
her mother made terribly little—Valentine Wannop took a post as
athletic mistress in a great school in a not very near suburb. Thus,
though Tietjens came in for a cup of tea almost every afternoon with
Mrs. Wannop in the dilapidated little suburban house, Valentine
Wannop hardly ever saw him. The only free afternoon she had was
the Friday, and on that day she still regularly chaperoned Mrs.
Duchemin: meeting her at Charing Cross towards noon and taking
her back to the same station in time to catch the last train to Rye.
On Saturdays and Sundays she was occupied all day in typing her
mother's manuscript.
Of Tietjens, then, she saw almost nothing. She knew that his poor
mind was empty of facts and of names; but her mother said he was
a great help to her. Once provided with facts his mind worked out
sound Tory conclusions—or quite startling and attractive theories—
with extreme rapidity. This Mrs. Wannop found of the greatest use to
her whenever—though it wasn't now very often—she had an article

to write for an excitable newspaper. She still, however, contributed to
her failing organ of opinion, though it paid her nothing. . . .
Mrs. Duchemin, then, Valentine Wannop still chaperoned, though
there was no bond any more between them. Valentine knew, for
instance, perfectly well that Mrs. Duchemin, after she had been seen
off by train from Charing Cross, got out at Clapham Junction, took a
taxicab back to Gray's Inn after dark and spent the night with
Macmaster, and Mrs. Duchemin knew quite well that Valentine knew.
It was a sort of parade of circumspection and rightness, and they
kept it up even after, at a sinister registry office, the wedding had
taken place, Valentine being the one witness and an obscure-looking
substitute for the usual pew opener another. There seemed to be, by
then, no very obvious reason why Valentine should support Mrs.
Macmaster any more on these rather dreary occasions, but Mrs.
Macmaster said she might just as well, until they saw fit to make the
marriage public. There were, Mrs. Macmaster said, censorious
tongues, and even if these were confuted afterwards it is difficult, if
not impossible, to outrun scandal. Besides, Mrs. Macmaster was of
opinion that the Macmaster afternoons with these geniuses must be
a liberal education for Valentine. But, as Valentine sat most of the
time at the tea-table near the door, it was the backs and side faces
of the distinguished rather than their intellects with which she was
most acquainted. Occasionally, however, Mrs. Duchemin would show
Valentine, as an enormous privilege, one of the letters to herself
from men of genius: usually North British, written, as a rule, from
the Continent or more distant and peaceful climates, for most of
them believed it their duty in these hideous times to keep alive in
the world the only glimmering spark of beauty. Couched in terms so
eulogistic as to resemble those used in passionate love-letters by
men more profane, these epistles recounted, or consulted Mrs.
Duchemin as to, their love affairs with foreign princesses, the
progress of their ailments or the progresses of their souls towards
those higher regions of morality in which floated their so beautiful-
souled correspondent.

The letters entertained Valentine and, indeed, she was entertained
by that whole mirage. It was only the Macmaster's treatment of her
mother that finally decided Valentine that this friendship had died;
for the friendships of women are very tenacious things, surviving
astonishing disillusionments, and Valentine Wannop was a woman of
more than usual loyalty. Indeed, if she couldn't respect Mrs.
Duchemin on the old grounds, she could very really respect her for
her tenacity of purpose, her determination to advance Macmaster
and for the sort of ruthlessness that she put into these pursuits.
Valentine's affection had, indeed, survived even Edith Ethel's
continued denigrations of Tietjens—for Edith Ethel regarded Tietjens
as a clog round her husband's neck, if only because he was a very
unpopular man, grown personally rather unpresentable and always
extremely rude to the geniuses on Fridays. Edith Ethel, however,
never made these complaints that grew more and more frequent as
more and more the distinguished flocked to the Fridays, before
Macmaster. And they ceased very suddenly and in a way that struck
Valentine as odd.
Mrs. Duchemin's grievance against Tietjens was that, Macmaster
being a weak man, Tietjens had acted as his banker until, what with
interest and the rest of it, Macmaster owed Tietjens a great sum:
several thousand pounds. And there had been no real reason:
Macmaster had spent most of the money either on costly furnishings
for his rooms or on his costly journeys to Rye. On the one hand Mrs.
Duchemin could have found Macmaster all the bric-a-brac he could
possibly have wanted from amongst the things at the rectory, where
no one would have missed them and, on the other, she, Mrs.
Duchemin, would have paid all Macmaster's travelling expenses. She
had had unlimited money from her husband, who never asked for
accounts. But, whilst Tietjens still had influence with Macmaster, he
had used it uncompromisingly against this course, giving him the
delusion—it enraged Mrs. Duchemin to think!—that it would have
been dishonourable. So that Macmaster had continued to draw upon
him.

And, most enraging of all, at a period when she had had a power of
attorney over all Mr. Duchemin's fortune and could, perfectly easily,
have sold out something that no one would have missed for the
couple of thousand or so that Macmaster owed, Tietjens had very
forcibly refused to allow Macmaster to agree to anything of the sort.
He had again put into Macmaster's weak head that it would be
dishonourable. But Mrs. Duchemin—and she closed her lips
determinedly after she had said it—knew perfectly well Tietjens'
motive. So long as Macmaster owed him money he imagined that
they couldn't close their doors upon him. And their establishment
was beginning to be a place where you meet people of great
influence who might well get for a person as lazy as Tietjens a
sinecure that would suit him. Tietjens, in fact, knew which side his
bread was buttered.
For what, Mrs. Duchemin asked, could there have been
dishonourable about the arrangement she had proposed? Practically
the whole of Mr. Duchemin's money was to come to her: he was by
then insane; it was therefore, morally, her own. But immediately
after that, Mr. Duchemin having been certified, the estate had fallen
into the hands of the Lunacy Commissioners and there had been no
further hope of taking the capital. Now, her husband being dead, it
was in the hands of trustees, Mr. Duchemin having left the whole of
his property to Magdalen College and merely the income to his
widow. The income was very large; but where, with their expenses,
with the death duties and taxation, which were by then merciless,
was Mrs. Duchemin to find the money? She was to be allowed,
under her husband's will, enough capital to buy a pleasant little
place in Surrey, with rather a nice lot of land—enough to let
Macmaster know some of the leisures of a country gentleman's lot.
They were going in for shorthorns, and there was enough land to
give them a small golf-course and, in the autumn, a little—oh,
mostly rough!—shooting for Macmaster to bring his friends down to.
It would just run to that. Oh, no ostentation. Merely a nice little
place. As an amusing detail the villagers there already called
Macmaster "squire" and the women curtsied to him. But Valentine

Wannop would understand that, with all these expenses, they
couldn't find the money to pay off Tietjens. Besides, Mrs. Macmaster
said she wasn't going to pay off Tietjens. He had had his chance
once: now he could go without, for her. Macmaster would have to
pay it himself and he would never be able to, his contribution to
their housekeeping being what it was. And there were going to be
complications. Macmaster wondered about their little place in Surrey,
saying that he would consult Tietjens about this and that alteration.
But over the doorsill of that place the foot of Tietjens was never
going to go! Never! It would mean a good deal of unpleasantness;
or rather it would mean one sharp: "C-r-r-unch!" And then: Napoo
finny! Mrs. Duchemin sometimes, and with great effect,
condescended to use one of the more picturesque phrases of the
day.
To all these diatribes Valentine Wannop answered hardly anything. It
was no particular concern of her's; even if, for a moment, she felt
proprietarily towards Christopher as she did now and then, she felt
no particular desire that his intimacy with the Macmasters should be
prolonged, because she knew he could have no particular desire for
its prolongation. She imagined him turning them down with an
unspoken and good-humoured gibe. And, indeed, she agreed on the
whole with Edith Ethel. It was demoralising for a weak little man like
Vincent to have a friend with an ever-open purse beside him.
Tietjens ought not to have been princely: it was a defect, a quality
that she did not personally admire in him. As to whether it would or
wouldn't have been dishonourable for Mrs. Duchemin to take her
husband's money and give it to Macmaster, she kept an open mind.
To all intents and purposes the money was Mrs. Duchemin's, and if
Mrs. Duchemin had then paid Christopher off it would have been
sensible. She could see that later it had become very inconvenient.
There were, however, male standards to be considered, and
Macmaster, at least, passed for a man. Tietjens, who was wise
enough in the affairs of others, had, in that, probably been wise; for
there might have been great disagreeablenesses with trustees and
heirs-at-law had Mrs. Duchemin's subtraction of a couple of

thousand pounds from the Duchemin estate afterwards come to
light. The Wannops had never been large property owners as a
family, but Valentine had heard enough of collateral wranglings over
small family dishonesties to know how very disagreeable these could
be.
So she had made little or no comment; sometimes she had even
faintly agreed as to the demoralisation of Macmaster and that had
sufficed. For Mrs. Duchemin had been certain of her rightness and
cared nothing at all for the opinion of Valentine Wannop, or else took
it for granted.
And when Tietjens had been gone to France for a little time Mrs.
Duchemin seemed to forget the matter, contenting herself with
saying that he might very likely not come back. He was the sort of
clumsy man who generally got killed. In that case, since no I.O.U.s
or paper had passed, Mrs. Tietjens would have no claim. So that
would be all right.
But two days after the return of Christopher—and that was how
Valentine knew he had come back!—Mrs. Duchemin with a lowering
brow exclaimed:
"That oaf, Tietjens, is in England, perfectly safe and sound. And now
the whole miserable business of Vincent's indebtedness . . . Oh!"
She had stopped so suddenly and so markedly that even the
stoppage of Valentine's own heart couldn't conceal the oddness from
her. Indeed it was as if there were an interval before she completely
realised what the news was and as if, during that interval, she said
to herself:
"It's very queer. It's exactly as if Edith Ethel has stopped abusing
him on my account . . . As if she knew!" But how could Edith Ethel
know that she loved the man who had returned? It was impossible!
She hardly knew herself. Then the great wave of relief rolled over
her: he was in England. One day she would see him, there: in the
great room. For these colloquies with Edith Ethel always took place
in the great room where she had last seen Tietjens. It looked

suddenly beautiful and she was resigned to sitting there, waiting for
the distinguished.
It was indeed a beautiful room: it had become so during the years.
It was long and high—matching the Tietjens'. A great cut-glass
chandelier from the rectory hung dimly coruscating in the centre,
reflected and re-reflected in convex gilt mirrors, topped by eagles. A
great number of books had gone to make place on the white
panelled walls for the mirrors, and for the fair orange and brown
pictures by Turner, also from the rectory. From the rectory had come
the immense scarlet and lapis lazuli carpet, the great brass fire-
basket and appendages, the great curtains that, in the three long
windows, on their peacock blue Chinese silk showed parti-coloured
cranes ascending in long flights—and all the polished Chippendale
arm-chairs. Amongst all these, gracious, trailing, stopping with a
tender gesture to rearrange very slightly the crimson roses in the
famous silver bowls, still in dark blue silks, with an amber necklace
and her elaborate black hair, waved exactly like that of Julia Domna
of the Musée Lapidaire at Arles, moved Mrs. Macmaster—also from
the rectory. Macmaster had achieved his desire: even to the
shortbread cakes and the peculiarly scented tea that came every
Friday morning from Princes Street. And, if Mrs. Macmaster hadn't
the pawky, relishing humour of the great Scots ladies of past days,
she had in exchange her deep aspect of comprehension and
tenderness. An astonishingly beautiful and impressive woman: dark
hair; dark, straight eyebrows; a straight nose; dark blue eyes in the
shadows of her hair and bowed, pomegranate lips in a chin curved
like the bow of a Greek boat. . . .
The etiquette of the place on Fridays was regulated as if by a royal
protocol. The most distinguished and, if possible, titled person was
led to a great walnut-wood fluted chair that stood askew by the
fireplace, its back and seat of blue velvet, heaven knows how old.
Over him would hover Mrs. Duchemin: or, if he were very
distinguished, both Mr. and Mrs. Macmaster. The not so distinguished
were led up by turns to be presented to the celebrity and would then
arrange themselves in a half-circle in the beautiful arm-chairs; the

less distinguished still, in outer groups in chairs that had no arms:
the almost undistinguished stood, also in groups or languished,
awestruck on the scarlet leather window seats. When all were there
Macmaster would establish himself on the incredibly unique
hearthrug and would address wise sayings to the celebrity;
occasionally, however, saying a kind thing to the youngest man
present—to give him a chance of distinguishing himself. Macmaster's
hair, at that date, was still black, but not quite so stiff or so well
brushed; his beard had in it greyish streaks and his teeth, not being
quite so white, looked less strong. He wore also a single eyeglass,
the retaining of which in his right eye gave him a slightly agonised
expression. It gave him, however, the privilege of putting his face
very close to the face of anyone upon whom he wished to make a
deep impression. He had lately become much interested in the
drama, so that there were usually several large—and, of course, very
reputable and serious actresses in the room. On rare occasions Mrs.
Duchemin would say across the room in her deep voice:
"Valentine, a cup of tea for his highness," or "Sir Thomas," as the
case might be, and when Valentine had threaded her way through
the chairs with a cup of tea Mrs. Duchemin, with a kind, aloof smile,
would say: "Your highness, this is my little brown bird." But as a rule
Valentine sat alone at the tea-table, the guests fetching from her
what they wanted.
Tietjens came to the Fridays twice during the five months of his stay
at Ealing. On each occasion he accompanied Mrs. Wannop.
In earlier days—during the earliest Fridays—Mrs. Wannop, if she
ever came, had always been installed, with her flowing black, in the
throne and, like an enlarged Queen Victoria, had sat there whilst
suppliants were led up to this great writer. But now: on the first
occasion Mrs. Wannop got a chair without arms in the outer ring,
whilst a general officer commanding lately in chief somewhere in the
East, whose military success had not been considerable, but whose
despatches were considered very literary, occupied, rather blazingly,
the throne. But Mrs. Wannop had chatted very contentedly all the

afternoon with Tietjens, and it had been comforting to Valentine to
see Tietjens' large, uncouth, but quite collected figure, and to
observe the affection that these two had for each other.
But, on the second occasion, the throne was occupied by a very
young woman who talked a great deal and with great assurance.
Valentine didn't know who she was. Mrs. Wannop, very gay and
distracted, stood nearly the whole afternoon by a window. And even
at that, Valentine was contented, quite a number of young men
crowding round the old lady and leaving the younger one's circle
rather bare.
There came in a very tall, clean run and beautiful, fair woman,
dressed in nothing in particular. She stood with extreme—with
noticeable—unconcern near the doorway. She let her eyes rest on
Valentine, but looked away before Valentine could speak. She must
have had an enormous quantity of fair tawny hair, for it was coiled in
a great surface over her ears. She had in her hand several visiting
cards which she looked at with a puzzled expression and then laid on
a card table. She was no one who had ever been there before.
Edith Ethel—it was for the second time!—had just broken up the ring
that surrounded Mrs. Wannop, bearing the young men tributary to
the young women in the walnut chair and leaving Tietjens and the
older woman high and dry in a window: thus Tietjens saw the
stranger, and there was no doubt left in Valentine's mind. He came,
diagonally, right down the room to his wife and marched her straight
up to Edith Ethel. His face was perfectly without expression.
Macmaster, perched on the centre of the hearthrug, had an emotion
that was extraordinarily comic to witness, but that Valentine was
quite unable to analyse. He jumped two paces forward to meet Mrs.
Tietjens, held out a little hand, half withdrew it, retreated half a
step. The eyeglass fell from his perturbed eye: this gave him actually
an expression less perturbed, but, in revenge, the hairs on the back
of his scalp grew suddenly untidy. Sylvia, wavering along beside her
husband, held out her long arm and careless hand. Macmaster
winced almost at the contact, as if his fingers had been pinched in a

vice. Sylvia wavered desultorily towards Edith Ethel, who was
suddenly small, insignificant and relatively coarse. As for the young
woman celebrity in the arm-chair, she appeared to be about the size
of a white rabbit.
A complete silence had fallen on the room. Every woman in it was
counting the pleats of Sylvia's skirt and the amount of material in it.
Valentine Wannop knew that because she was doing it herself. If one
had that amount of material and that number of pleats one's skirt
might hang like that. . . . For it was extraordinary: it fitted close
round the hips, and gave an effect of length and swing—yet it did
not descend as low as the ankles. It was, no doubt, the amount of
material that did that, like the Highlander's kilt that takes twelve
yards to make. And from the silence Valentine could tell that every
woman and most of the men—if they didn't know that this was Mrs.
Christopher Tietjens—knew that this was a personage of Illustrated
Weekly, as who should say of county family, rank. Little Mrs. Swan,
lately married, actually got up, crossed the room and sat down
beside her bridegroom. It was a movement with which Valentine
could sympathise.
And Sylvia, having just faintly greeted Mrs. Duchemin, and
completely ignored the celebrity in the arm-chair—in spite of the fact
that Mrs. Duchemin had tried half-heartedly to effect an introduction
—stood still, looking round her. She gave the effect of a lady in a
nurseryman's hot-house considering what flower should interest her,
collectedly ignoring the nurserymen who bowed round her. She had
just dropped her eyelashes, twice, in recognition of two staff officers
with a good deal of scarlet streak about them who were tentatively
rising from their chairs. The staff officers who came to the
Macmasters were not of the first vintages; still they had the labels
and passed as such.
Valentine was by that time beside her mother, who had been
standing all alone between two windows. She had dispossessed, in
hot indignation, a stout musical critic of his chair and had sat her

mother in it. And, just as Mrs. Duchemin's deep voice sounded, yet a
little waveringly:
"Valentine . . . a cup of tea for . . ." Valentine was carrying a cup of
tea to her mother.
Her indignation had conquered her despairing jealousy, if you could
call it jealousy. For what was the good of living or loving when
Tietjens had beside him, for ever, the radiant, kind and gracious
perfection. On the other hand, of her two deep passions, the second
was for her mother.
Rightly or wrongly, Valentine regarded Mrs. Wannop as a great, an
august figure: a great brain, a high and generous intelligence. She
had written, at least, one great book, and if the rest of her time had
been frittered away in the desperate struggle to live that had taken
both their lives, that could not detract from that one achievement
that should last and for ever take her mother's name down time.
That this greatness should not weigh with the Macmasters had
hitherto neither astonished nor irritated Valentine. The Macmasters
had their game to play and, for the matter of that, they had their
predilections. Their game kept them amongst the officially
influential, the semi-official and the officially accredited. They moved
with such C.B.s, knights, presidents, and the rest as dabbled in
writing or the arts: they went upwards with such reviewers, art
critics, musical writers and archæologists as had posts in, if possible,
first-class public offices or permanent positions on the more august
periodicals. If an imaginative author seemed assured of position and
lasting popularity Macmaster would send out feelers towards him,
would make himself humbly useful, and sooner or later either Mrs.
Duchemin would be carrying on with him one of her high-souled
correspondences—or she wouldn't.
Mrs. Wannop they had formerly accepted as permanent leader writer
and chief critic of a great organ, but the great organ having
dwindled and now disappeared the Macmasters no longer wanted
her at their parties. That was the game—and Valentine accepted it.
But that it should have been done with such insolence, so obviously

meant to be noted—for in twice breaking up Mrs. Wannop's little
circle Mrs. Duchemin had not even once so much as said: "How d'ye
do?" to the elder lady!—that was almost more than Valentine could,
for the moment, bear, and she would have taken her mother away at
once and would never have re-entered the house, but for the
compensations.
Her mother had lately written and even found a publisher for a book
—and the book had showed no signs of failing powers. On the
contrary, having been perforce stopped off the perpetual journalism
that had dissipated her energies, Mrs. Wannop had turned out
something that Valentine knew was sound, sane and well done.
Abstractions caused by failing attention to the outside world are not
necessarily in a writer signs of failing, as a writer. It may mean
merely that she is giving so much thought to her work that her other
contacts suffer. If that is the case her work will gain. That this might
be the case with her mother was Valentine's great and secret hope.
Her mother was barely sixty: many great works have been written
by writers aged between sixty and seventy. . . .
And the crowding of youngish men round the old lady had given
Valentine a little confirmation of that hope. The book naturally, in the
maelstrom flux and reflux of the time, had attracted little attention,
and poor Mrs. Wannop had not succeeded in extracting a penny for
it from her adamantine publisher: she hadn't, indeed, made a penny
for several months, and they existed almost at starvation point in
their little den of a villa—on Valentine's earnings as athletic teacher. .
. . But that little bit of attention in that semi-public place had
seemed, at least, as a confirmation to Valentine: there probably was
something sound, sane and well done in her mother's work. That
was almost all she asked of life.
And, indeed, whilst she stood by her mother's chair, thinking with a
little bitter pathos that if Edith Ethel had left the three or four young
men to her mother the three or four might have done her poor
mother a little good, with innocent puffs and the like—and heaven
knew they needed that little good badly enough!—a very thin and

untidy young man did drift back to Mrs. Wannop and asked,
precisely, if he might make a note or two for publication as to what
Mrs. Wannop was doing. "Her book," he said, "had attracted so
much attention. They hadn't known that they had still writers among
them. . . ."
A singular, triangular drive had begun through the chairs from the
fireplace. That was how it had seemed to Valentine! Mrs. Tietjens
had looked at them, had asked Christopher a question and,
immediately, as if she were coming through waist-high surf, had
borne down Macmaster and Mrs. Duchemin, flanking her
obsequiously, setting aside chairs and their occupants, Tietjens and
the two, rather bashfully following staff officers, broadening out the
wedge.
Sylvia, her long arm held out from a yard or so away, was giving her
hand to Valentine's mother. With her clear, high, unembarrassed
voice she exclaimed, also from a yard or so away, so as to be heard
by every one in the room:
"You're Mrs. Wannop. The great writer! I'm Christopher Tietjens'
wife."
The old lady, with her dim eyes, looked up at the younger woman
towering above her.
"You're Christopher's wife!" she said. "I must kiss you for all the
kindness he has shown me."
Valentine felt her eyes filling with tears. She saw her mother stand
up, place both her hands on the other woman's shoulders. She
heard her mother say:
"You're a most beautiful creature. I'm sure you're good!"
Sylvia stood, smiling faintly, bending a little to accept the embrace.
Behind the Macmasters, Tietjens and the staff officers, a little crowd
of goggle eyes had ranged itself.
Valentine was crying. She slipped back behind the tea-urns, though
she could hardly feel the way. Beautiful! The most beautiful woman

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