Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated)

by William Somerset Maugham

  Of course you’re nothing of the sort. But I don’t want Violet to feel that I am making any attempt to — to monopolise you. She’s been charming to me. The more I know her the more delightful I find her.

  Arthur.

  It’s very nice of you to say so.

  Anne.

  You know I’ve always had a great admiration for you. I’m so glad to see you married to a girl who’s not unworthy of you.

  Arthur.

  I suppose it was a dangerous experiment for a man of my age to marry a girl of nineteen.

  Anne.

  I think one can admit that. But you’ve always been one of the favourites of the gods. You’ve made a wonderful success of it.

  Arthur.

  It needs on a husband’s part infinite tact, patience, and tolerance.

  Anne.

  You have the great advantage that Violet is genuinely in love with you.

  Arthur.

  I suppose only a fatuous ass would confess that a beautiful girl was in love with him.

  Anne.

  You make her very happy.

  Arthur.

  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to achieve that. I’m more desperately in love with Violet even than when I first married her.

  Anne.

  I’m so glad. I want nothing but your happiness.

  Arthur.

  Here is Christina.

  [The door opens as he says these words and an English Butler ushers in Mrs. Pritchard. She is a tall, spare woman, with hair turning grey, comely, upright in her carriage, with decision of character indicated by every gesture; but though masterful and firm to attain her ends, she is an honest woman, direct, truthful and not without humour. She is admirably gowned in a manner befitting her station and importance.]

  Butler.

  Mrs. Pritchard.

  [Exit.]

  Arthur.

  I knew it was you, Christina. I felt a sense of responsibility descend upon the house.

  Christina.

  [Kissing him.] How is Violet?

  Arthur.

  Lovely.

  Christina.

  I was inquiring about her health.

  Arthur.

  Her health is perfect.

  Christina.

  At her age one’s always well, I suppose. [Kissing Anne.] How d’you do? And how are you, my poor Arthur?

  Arthur.

  You ask me as though I was a doddering old gentleman, crippled with rheumatism. I’m in the best of health, thank you very much, and very active for my years. [Christina has seen a flower on the table that has fallen from a bowl, and picks it up and puts it back in its place.] Why do you do that?

  Christina.

  I don’t like untidiness.

  Arthur.

  I do.

  [He takes the flower out again and places it on the table.]

  Christina.

  I was expecting to find you in your office.

  Arthur.

  Do you think I’m neglecting my work? I thought it more becoming to wait for you here.

  Christina.

  I wanted to see you on a matter of business.

  Arthur.

  So I understood from your message. I feel convinced you’re going to put me in the way of making my fortune.

  Anne.

  I’ll leave you, shall I?

  Christina.

  Oh, no, pray don’t. There’s not the least reason why you shouldn’t hear what it’s all about.

  Arthur.

  You’re not going to make my fortune after all. You’re going to ask me to do something.

  Christina.

  What makes you think that?

  Arthur.

  You want a third person present to be witness to my brutal selfishness when I refuse. I know you, Christina.

  Christina.

  [Smiling.] You’re much too sensible to refuse a perfectly reasonable request.

  Arthur.

  Let us hear it. [She sits down on the sofa. The cushions have been disordered by people sitting on them and she shakes them out, and pats them and arranges them in their place.] I wish you’d leave the furniture alone, Christina.

  Christina.

  I cannot make out what pleasure people take in seeing things out of their proper place.

  Arthur.

  You’re very long in coming to the point.

  Christina.

  I hear that the Khedive has quarrelled with his secretary.

  Arthur.

  You’re a marvellous woman, Christina. You get hold of all the harem gossip.

  Christina.

  It’s true, isn’t it?

  Arthur.

  Yes. But I only heard of it myself just before luncheon. How did it come to your ears?

  Christina.

  That doesn’t matter, does it? I have a way of hearing things that may be of interest to me.

  Arthur.

  I’m afraid I’m very dense, but I don’t see how it can be of any particular interest to you.

  Christina.

  [Smiling.] Dear Arthur. The Khedive has asked you to recommend him an English secretary.

  Anne.

  Has he really? That’s a change. He’s never had an English secretary before.

  Arthur.

  Never.

  Anne.

  It’s a wonderful opportunity.

  Arthur.

  If we get the right man he can be of the greatest possible help. If he’s tactful, wise, and courteous, there’s no reason why in time he shouldn’t attain very considerable influence over the Khedive. If we can really get the Khedive to work honestly and sincerely with us, instead of hampering us by all kinds of secret devices, we can do miracles in this country.

  Anne.

  What a splendid chance for the man who gets the job!

  Arthur.

  I suppose it is. If he has the right qualities he may achieve anything. And after all, it’s a splendid chance to be able to render such great service to our own old country.

  Christina.

  Has the Khedive given any particulars about the sort of man he wants?

  Arthur.

  He naturally wants a young man and a good sportsman. It’s important that he should be able to speak Arabic. But the qualifications which will satisfy the Khedive are nothing beside those which will satisfy me. The wrong man may cause irreparable damage to British interests.

  Christina.

  Have you thought that Henry would be admirably suited?

  Arthur.

  I can’t say I have, Christina.

  Christina.

  He’s young and he’s very good at games. He speaks Arabic.

  Arthur.

  Quite well, I believe. I think he’s very well suited to the post he has. It would be a pity to disturb him when he’s just got at home with the work.

  Christina.

  Arthur, you can’t compare a very badly paid job in the Ministry of Education with a private secretaryship to the Khedive.

  Arthur.

  The best job for a man is the one he’s most fitted to do.

  Christina.

  You’ve got no fault to find with Henry. He’s a very good worker, he’s honest, industrious, and painstaking.

  Arthur.

  You don’t praise a pair of boots because you can walk in them without discomfort; if you can’t you chuck them away.

  Christina.

  What d’you mean by that?

  Arthur.

  The qualities you mention really don’t deserve any particular reward. If Henry hadn’t got them I’d fire him without a moment’s hesitation.

  Christina.

  I have no doubt you’d welcome the opportunity. It’s the greatest misfortune of Henry’s life that he happens to be your nephew.

  Arthur.

  On the other hand, it’s counterbalanced by his extraordinary good luck in being your son.

  Christina.

  You’ve stood in his way on every possible occasion.
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  Arthur.

  [Good-humouredly.] You know that’s not true, Christina. I’ve refused to perpetrate a number of abominable jobs that you’ve urged me to. He’s had his chances as everyone else has. You’re an admirable mother. If I’d listened to you he’d be Commander-in-Chief and Prime Minister by now.

  Christina.

  I’ve never asked you to do anything for Henry that wasn’t perfectly reasonable.

  Arthur.

  It’s evident then that we have different views upon what is reasonable.

  Christina.

  I appeal to you, Anne: do you see any objection to suggesting Henry to the Khedive as a private secretary?

  Arthur.

  I knew that’s what she wanted you here for, Anne, to be a witness to my pig-headed obstinacy.

  Christina.

  Don’t be absurd, Arthur. I’m asking Anne for an unprejudiced opinion.

  Arthur.

  Anne is unlikely to have an opinion of any value on a matter she knows nothing about.

  Anne.

  [With a chuckle.] That is a very plain hint that I can’t do better than hold my tongue. I’ll take it, Christina.

  Christina.

  It’s so unreasonable of you, Arthur. You won’t listen to any argument.

  Arthur.

  The only one you’ve offered yet is: here’s a good job going, Henry’s your nephew, give it him. My dear, don’t you see the Khedive would never accept such a near relation of mine?

  Christina.

  I don’t agree with you at all. The fact of his asking you to recommend an English secretary shows that he wants to draw the connection between you and himself closer. After all, you might give the boy a chance.

  Arthur.

  This is not an occasion when one can afford to give a chance. It’s hit or miss. If the man I choose is a failure the Khedive will never ask me to do such a thing for him again. I can’t take any risks.

  Christina.

  Will you tell me what qualifications Henry lacks to make him suitable for the post?

  Arthur.

  Certainly. It’s true he speaks Arabic, but he doesn’t understand the native mind. Grammars can’t teach you that, my dear, only sympathy. He has the mind of an official. I often think that you must have swallowed a ramrod in early life and poor Henry was born with a foot-rule in his inside.

  Christina.

  I am not amused, Arthur.

  Arthur.

  I have no doubt in course of time he’ll become a very competent official, but he’ll never be anything else. He lacks imagination, and that is just as necessary to a statesman as to a novelist. Finally he has no charm.

  Christina.

  How can you judge? You’re his uncle. You might just as well say I have no charm.

  Arthur.

  You haven’t. You’re an admirable woman, with all the substantial virtues which make you an ornament to your sex, but you have no charm.

  Christina.

  [With a grim smile.] I should be a fool if I expected you to pay me compliments, shouldn’t I?

  Arthur.

  You would at all events be a woman who is unable to learn by experience.

  Christina.

  Besides, I don’t agree with you. I think Henry has charm.

  Arthur.

  Why do we all call him Henry? Why does Henry suit him so admirably? If he had charm we would naturally call him Harry.

  Christina.

  Really, Arthur, it amazes me that a man in your position can be influenced by such absurd trifles. It’s so unfair, when a boy has a dozen solid real virtues that you should refuse to recommend him for a job because he hasn’t got in your opinion a frivolous, unsubstantial advantage like charm.

  Arthur.

  Unsubstantial it may be, but frivolous it certainly isn’t. Believe me, charm is the most valuable asset that any man can have. D’you think it sounds immoral to say it compensates for the lack of brains and virtue? Alas! it happens to be true. Brains may bring you to power, but charm enables you to keep it. Without charm you will never lead men.

  Christina.

  And do you imagine you’re likely to find a young Englishman who’s a sportsman and an Arabic scholar, who has tact, imagination, sympathy, wisdom, courtesy and charm?

  Anne.

  If you do, Arthur, I’m afraid he won’t remain here very long, because I warn you, I shall insist on marrying him.

  Arthur.

  It’s not so formidable as it sounds. I’m going to suggest Ronny.

  Christina.

  [Astounded.] Ronald Parry! That’s the very last person I should have thought you’d be inclined to suggest.

  Arthur.

  [Sharply.] Why?

  Anne.

  [With dismay.] You don’t really mean that, Arthur?

  Arthur.

  Why not?

  Christina.

  [To Anne.] Didn’t you know?

  Anne.

  It’s the last thing that would ever have entered my head.

  Christina.

  I thought you’d made all arrangements for sending him away.

  Arthur.

  I made no arrangements at all. I received a telegram from the F.O. saying that he’d been appointed to Paris.

  Anne.

  [After a very short pause.] Don’t you think you’d better leave it at that?

  Arthur.

  No, I don’t. I’m going to wire to London explaining the circumstances and suggesting that I think him very suitable for the post that’s just offered itself.

  Anne.

  [Trying to take it lightly.] I feel rather aggrieved, after all the efforts I’ve made to get him appointed to Paris.

  Christina.

  Oh, he owes that to you, does he? You thought it would be better for him to leave here?

  Arthur.

  [Deliberately.] I don’t quite understand what you’re driving at, Christina.

  Christina.

  [Taking him up defiantly.] I cannot imagine anyone more unsuitable than Ronald Parry.

  Arthur.

  That is for me to judge, isn’t it?

  Anne.

  Perhaps the Foreign Office will say they see no reason to change their mind.

  Arthur.

  I don’t think so.

  Anne.

  Have you told Ronny?

  Arthur.

  No, I thought it unnecessary till I’d found out whether the Khedive would be willing to take him.

  Christina.

  I’m amazed, Arthur. When Henry told me Ronald Parry was going I couldn’t help thinking it was very desirable.

  Arthur.

  Why?

  [She looks at him, about to speak, then hesitates. She does not dare, and resolves to be silent. Anne comes to the rescue.]

  Anne.

  Christina knows that I shall be very little in Egypt in future and how fond Ronny and I are of one another. We naturally want to be as near each other as we can.

  Christina.

  [With a chuckle.] It really amuses me that you should refuse to give a good job to Henry because you’ve made up your mind to give it to Ronald Parry.

  [Arthur walks up to her deliberately and faces her.]

  Arthur.

  If you’ve got anything to say against him say it.

  [They stare at one another for a moment in silence.]

  Christina.

  If you have nothing against him there’s no reason why I should.

  Arthur.

  I see. I have a good deal to do this afternoon. If you have nothing more to say to me I’d like to get back to my work.

  Christina.

  Very well, I’ll go.

  Arthur.

  You won’t stop and see Violet?

  Christina.

  I don’t think so, thank you.

  [She goes out. He opens the door for her.]

  Anne.

  Why didn’t you tell me just now that you’d decided to keep Ronny in Cairo?
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br />   Arthur.

  I thought it was unnecessary till everything was settled. I daresay you’ll be good enough to hold your tongue about it.

  Anne.

  Have you definitely made up your mind?

  Arthur.

  Definitely.

  [They look at one another steadily.]

  Anne.

  I think I’ll go up to my room. I keep to my old habit of a siesta after luncheon.

  Arthur.

  I wish I could get Violet to take it.

  Anne.

  She’s so young, she doesn’t feel the need of it yet.

  Arthur.

  Yes, she’s so young.

  [Anne goes out. For a moment Arthur gives way to discouragement. He feels old and tired. But he hears a footstep and pulls himself together. He is his usual self, gay, gallant and humorous, when Violet enters the room.]

  Violet.

  I saw Christina drive away. What did she want?

  Arthur.

  The earth.

  Violet.

  I hope you gave it her.

  Arthur.

  No, I’m trying to get the moon for you just now, darling, and I thought if I gave her the earth it really would upset the universe a little too much.

  Violet.

  I thought I’d better do these invitations before I dressed.

  Arthur.

  You’re not going to put on a different frock to go and have tea with the Khedive’s mother? You look charming in that.

  Violet.

  I think it’s a little too young. It was all right for the morning.

  Arthur.

  Of course you are older this afternoon, that’s quite true.

  Violet.

  Can you spare Ronny just now?

  Arthur.

  [After an instant’s pause.] Yes, I’ll send him to you at once.

  Violet.

  [As he is going.] I shall be back in time to give you your tea.

  Arthur.

  That will be very nice. Good-bye till then.

  [He goes out. She is meditative. She gives a slight start as Ronny comes in.]

  Violet.

  I hope I haven’t torn you away from anything very important.

  Ronny.

  I was only typing a very dull report. I’d just finished it.

  Violet.

  You mustn’t ever bother about me if it’s not convenient, you know.

  Ronny.

  I shan’t have much chance, shall I?

  Violet.

  No.... Look, here’s the list.

  [She hands him a sheet of paper on which names are scribbled, and he reads it.]

  Ronny.

  It looks rather a stodgy party, doesn’t it? I see you’ve crossed my name out.

  Violet.

  It’s not much good asking you when you won’t be here. Whom d’you advise me to ask in your place?