Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated)
Page 360
I’m very glad. What do you use — Phenacetin?
Boulger.
It went away of its own accord — after dinner.
Alec.
[Smiling.] So you resolved to give the girls a treat by coming to Lady Kelsey’s dance? How nice of you not to disappoint them! [He turns to Lucy and holds out his hand. They look into one another’s eyes. She takes his hand.] I sent you a paper this evening.
Lucy.
It was very good of you.
[Carbery comes forward and offers his arm.
Carbery.
I think this is my dance, Miss Allerton. May I take you in?
Alec.
Carbery? I saw you in Piccadilly just now! You were darting about just like a young gazelle. I had no idea you could be so active.
Carbery.
I didn’t see you.
Alec.
I observed that you were deeply interested in the shop windows as I passed. How are you?
[He holds out his hand, and for a moment Carbery hesitates to take it. But Alec’s steady gaze compels him.
Carbery.
How d’you do?
Alec.
[With an amused smile.] So glad to see you again, old man.
[Dick gives an audible chuckle, and Carbery, reddening, draws his hand away angrily. He goes to Lucy and offers his arm.
Boulger.
[To Mrs. Crowley.] Shall I take you back?
Mrs. Crowley.
Do!
Lady Kesley.
Won’t you come, Mr. Mackenzie?
Alec.
If you don’t mind I’ll stay and smoke just one cigarette with Dick Lomas. You know I’m not a dancing man.
Lady Kelsey.
Very well.
[All go out except Alec and Dick.
Dick.
I suppose you know we were all beseeching Providence you’d have the grace to stay away to-night?
Alec.
[With a smile.] I suspected it, I confess. I shouldn’t have come only I wanted to see Lucy. I’ve been in the country all day, and I knew nothing about Macinnery’s letter till I saw the placards at the station.
Dick.
Macinnery proposes to make things rather uncomfortable, I imagine.
Alec.
[With a smile.] I made a mistake, didn’t I? I ought to have dropped him in the river when I had no further use for him.
Dick.
What are you going to do?
Alec.
It’s not easy to clear myself at a dead man’s expense. The earth covers his crime and his sins and his weakness.
Dick.
D’you mean to say that you are going to sit still and let them throw mud at you?
Alec.
When George was dead I wrote to Lucy that he died like a brave man. I can’t now publish to the whole world that he was a coward and a rogue. I can’t rake up again the story of her father’s crime.
Dick.
[Impatiently.] Surely, that’s absolutely quixotic.
Alec.
No, it isn’t. I tell you I can’t do anything else. I’m bound hand and foot. Lucy has talked to me of George’s death, and the only thing that has consoled her is the idea that in a manner he had redeemed his father’s good name. How can I rob her of that? She placed all her hopes in George. How could she face the world with the knowledge that her brother was rotten to the core, as rotten as her father.
Dick.
It seems awfully hard.
Alec.
Besides, when all is said and done, the boy did die game. Don’t you think that should count for something? No, I tell you I can’t give him away now. I should never cease to reproach myself. I love Lucy far too much to cause her such bitter pain.
Dick.
And if it loses you her love?
Alec.
I think she can do without love better than without self-respect.
[Lucy comes in with Mrs. Crowley.
Lucy.
I’ve sent my partner away. I felt I must have a few words alone with you.
Dick.
Shall I take Mrs. Crowley into a retired corner?
Lucy.
No, we have nothing to say that you can’t hear. You and Nellie know that we’re engaged to be married. [To Alec.] I want you to dance with me.
Alec.
It’s very good of you.
Mrs. Crowley.
Don’t you think that’s rather foolish, Lucy?
Lucy.
[To Alec.] I want to show them all that I don’t believe that you’re guilty of an odious crime.
Alec.
They’ve said horrible things about me?
Lucy.
Not to me. They wanted to hide it from me, but I knew they were talking.
Alec.
You’ll grow used to hearing shameful things said of me. I suppose I shall grow used to it, too.
Lucy.
Oh, I hate them.
Alec.
Ah, it’s not that I mind. What torments me is that it was so easy to despise their praise, and now I can’t despise their blame.
Mrs. Crowley.
[Smiling.] I believe you have some glimmerings of human nature in you after all.
Lucy.
When you came to-night, so calm and self-possessed, I admired you as I’d never admired you before.
Alec.
It’s easy enough to command one’s face. I learnt to do that in Africa when often my life depended on my seeming to have no fear. But in my heart ... I never knew that I could feel so bitter. And yet, after all, it’s only your good opinion that I care for.
Lucy.
I’ve trusted you implicitly from the first day I saw you.
Alec.
Thank God for that! To-day is the first time I’ve wanted to be assured that I was trusted. And yet I’m ashamed to want it.
Lucy.
Ah, don’t be too hard upon yourself. You’re so afraid of letting your tenderness appear.
Alec.
The only way to be strong is never to surrender to one’s weakness. Strength is merely a habit like everything else. I want you to be strong, too. I want you never to doubt me whatever you may hear said.
Lucy.
I gave my brother into your hands, and told you that if he died a brave man’s death I could ask for no more.
Alec.
I should tell you that I’ve made up my mind to make no answer to the charges that are made against me.
[There is a very short pause, while he looks at her steadily.
Mrs. Crowley.
But why?
Alec.
[To Lucy.] I can give you my word of honour that I’ve done nothing which I regret. I know that what I did was right with regard to George, and if it were all to come again I would do exactly as I did before.
Lucy.
I think I can trust you.
Alec.
I thought of you always, and everything I did was for your sake. Every single act of mine during these four years in Africa has been done because I loved you.
Lucy.
You must love me always, Alec, for now I have only you. [He bends down and kisses her hand.] Come!
[He gives her his arm and they walk out.
Mrs. Crowley.
I feel as if I should rather like to cry.
Dick.
Do you really? So do I.
Mrs. Crowley.
Don’t be so silly.
Dick.
By the way, you don’t want to dance with me, do you?
Mrs. Crowley.
Certainly not. You dance abominably.
Dick.
It’s charming of you to say so. It puts me at my ease at once.
Mrs. Crowley.
Come and sit on the sofa and talk seriously.
Dick.
Ah, you want to flirt with me, Mrs. Crowley.
Mrs. Crowley.
Good heavens, what on earth makes you think that?
It’s what a woman always means when she asks you to talk sensibly.
Mrs. Crowley.
I can’t bear a man who thinks women are in love with him.
Dick.
Bless you, I don’t think that. I only think they want to marry me.
Mrs. Crowley.
That’s equally detestable.
Dick.
Not at all. However old, ugly, and generally undesirable a man is, he’ll find a heap of charming girls who are willing to marry him. Marriage is still the only decent means of livelihood for a really nice girl.
Mrs. Crowley.
But, my dear friend, if a woman really makes up her mind to marry a man, nothing on earth can save him.
Dick.
Don’t say that, you terrify me.
Mrs. Crowley.
You need not be in the least alarmed, because I shall refuse you.
Dick.
Thanks, awfully. But all the same I don’t think I’ll risk a proposal.
Mrs. Crowley.
My dear Mr. Lomas, your only safety is in immediate flight.
Dick.
Why?
Mrs. Crowley.
It must be obvious to the meanest intelligence that you’ve been on the verge of proposing to me for the last month.
Dick.
Oh, I assure you, you’re quite mistaken.
Mrs. Crowley.
Then I shan’t come to the play with you to-morrow?
Dick.
But I’ve taken the seats, and I’ve ordered an exquisite dinner at the Carlton.
Mrs. Crowley.
What have you ordered?
Dick.
Potage Bisque... [She makes a little face.]
Sole Normande... [She shrugs her shoulders.]
Wild Duck.
Mrs. Crowley.
With an orange salad?
Dick.
Yes.
Mrs. Crowley.
I don’t positively dislike that.
Dick.
And I’ve ordered a soufflé with an ice in the middle of it.
Mrs. Crowley.
I shan’t come.
Dick.
I shouldn’t have thought you kept very well abreast of dramatic art if you insist on marrying every man who takes you to a theatre.
Mrs. Crowley.
[Demurely.] I was very nicely brought up.
Dick.
Of course, if you’re going to make yourself systematically disagreeable unless I marry you, I suppose I shall have to do it in self-defence.
Mrs. Crowley.
I don’t know if you have the least idea what you’re talking about. I’m sure I haven’t!
Dick.
I was merely asking you in a rather well-turned phrase to name the day. The lamb shall be ready for the slaughter!
Mrs. Crowley.
Couldn’t you infuse a little romance into it? You might begin by going down on your bended knees.
Dick.
I assure you that’s quite out of fashion. Lovers, nowadays, are much too middle-aged, and their joints are creaky. Besides, it ruins the trousers.
Mrs. Crowley.
At all events, there can be no excuse for your not saying that you know you’re utterly unworthy of me.
Dick.
Wild horses wouldn’t induce me to make a statement which is so remote from the truth.
Mrs. Crowley.
And, of course, you must threaten to commit suicide if I don’t consent.
Dick.
Women are such sticklers for routine. They have no originality.
Mrs. Crowley.
Very well, have it your own way. But I must have a proposal in due form.
Dick.
Only four words are needed. [Counting them on his fingers.] Will you marry me?
Mrs. Crowley.
That is both clear and simple. I reply in one: No!
Dick.
[As though he were not sure that he had heard correctly.] I beg your pardon?
Mrs. Crowley.
The answer is in the negative.
Dick.
You’re joking. You’re certainly joking.
Mrs. Crowley.
I will be a sister to you.
Dick.
Do you mean to say you deliberately refuse me?
Mrs. Crowley.
[Smiling.] I promised you I would.
Dick.
[With much seriousness.] I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Mrs. Crowley.
[Puzzled.] The man’s mad. The man’s nothing short of a raving lunatic.
Dick.
I wanted to see if you were really attached to me. You have given me a proof of esteem which I promise you I will never forget.
Mrs. Crowley.
[Laughing.] You’re a perfect idiot, Mr. Lomas!
Dick.
It’s one of my cherished convictions that a really nice woman is never so cruel as to marry a man she cares for.
Mrs. Crowley.
You’re much too flippant to marry anybody, and you’re perfectly odious into the bargain.
[She goes out. Dick, chuckling, lights a cigarette. Alec comes in and lies down lazily on the sofa.
Alec.
Why, Dick, what’s the matter? You look as pleased as Punch.
Dick.
My dear fellow, I feel like the Terrible Turk. I’ve been wrestling, and I thought I was going to have a fall. But by the display of considerable agility I’ve managed to keep my legs.
Alec.
What do you mean?
Dick.
Nothing. It’s merely the gaiety of forty-two.
[Boulger comes into the room, followed immediately by Mallins and Carbery. He starts slightly when he sees Alec, but then goes over to the table on which is the whiskey.
Mallins.
May we smoke here, Bobby?
Boulger.
Certainly. Dick insisted that this room should be particularly reserved for that purpose.
[The Butler comes in with a small silver salver, and takes up one or two dirty glasses.
Dick.
Lady Kelsey is the most admirable of all hostesses.
Alec.
[Taking a cigarette from his case.] Give me a match, Bobby, there’s a good boy. [Boulger, with his back turned to Alec, takes no notice. He pours himself out some whiskey. Alec smiles slightly.] Bobby, throw me over the matches!
Boulger.
[With his back still turned.] Miller!
Butler.
Yes, sir?
Boulger.
Mr. Mackenzie is asking for something.
Butler.
Yes, sir!
Alec.
You might give me a light, will you?
Butler.
Yes, sir!
[The Butler takes the matches to Alec, who lights his cigarette.
Alec.
Thank you. [Complete silence is preserved till the Butler leaves the room.] I perceive, Bobbie, that during my absence you have not added good manners to your other accomplishments.
Boulger.
If you want things, you can ask the servants for them.
Alec.
[Good-humouredly.] Don’t be foolish, Bobbie!
Boulger.
Would you be so kind as to remember that my name is Boulger?
Alec.
[Smiling.] Perhaps you would like me to call you Sir Robert?
Boulger.
I should prefer that you would call me nothing at all. I have absolutely no wish to know you.
Alec.
Which shows that your taste is as bad as your breeding.
Boulger.
[Angrily, walking up to him.] By God, I’ll knock you down!
Alec.
You could hardly do that when I’m already lying on my back.
Boulger.
Look here, Mackenzie, I’m not going to let you play the fool with me. I want to know what answe
r you have to make to all these charges that have been brought against you.
Alec.
Might I suggest that only Miss Allerton has the least right to receive answers to her questions? And she hasn’t questioned me.
Boulger.
I’ve given up trying to understand her attitude. If I were she, it would make me sick with horror to look at you. Since this morning you’ve rested under a direct accusation of causing George’s death, and you’ve said nothing in self-defence.
Alec.
Nothing.
Boulger.
You’ve been given an opportunity to explain yourself, and you haven’t taken it.
Alec.
Quite true.
Boulger.
Are you not going to deny the charge?
Alec.
I’m not.
Boulger.
Then I can only draw one conclusion. There appears to be no means of bringing you to justice, but at least I can refuse to know you.
Alec.
All is over between us. And shall I return your letters and your photograph?
Boulger.
I’m not joking.
Alec.
It’s singular that though I’m Scotch and you are English I should be able to see how ridiculous you are, while you’re quite blind to your own absurdity.
Dick.
Come, Alec! Remember he’s only a boy.
Boulger.
[To Dick Lomas.] I’m perfectly able to look after myself, and I’ll thank you not to interfere. [To Alec.] If Lucy’s so indifferent to her brother’s death that she’s willing to keep up with you, that’s her own affair ...
Dick.
[Interrupting.] Come, Bobbie, don’t make a scene.
Boulger.
[Furiously.] Leave me alone, confound you!
Alec.
Do you think this is quite the place for an altercation? Wouldn’t you gain more notoriety if you attacked me in my club or at Church parade on Sunday?
Boulger.
It’s mere shameless impudence that you should come here to-night. You’re using these wretched women as a shield, because you know that as long as Lucy sticks to you there are people who won’t believe the story.
Alec.
I came for the same reason as yourself, dear boy. Because I was invited.
Dick.
Now then, Bobbie, shut up!
Boulger.
I shan’t shut up. The man’s got no right to force himself here.
Dick.
Remember that you’re Lady Kelsey’s nephew.
Boulger.
I didn’t ask him. D’you think I’d have come if I knew he was going to be here? He’s acknowledged that he has no defence.
Alec.
Pardon me, I acknowledge nothing and deny nothing.
Boulger.
That won’t do for me. I want the truth, and I’m going to get it. I’ve got a right to know.