The Hypocrite. Thorne Guy

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СКАЧАТЬ he got out his cheque-book and wrote it. Gobion took it without saying anything, but he stretched out his hand and looked him in the face. With wonderful intuition he knew exactly what the other expected, and Scott felt repaid by his warm grasp and silence, which, as Gobion expected, he mistook for emotion.

      After a melancholy cigarette Gobion got up and said, "You'll come and see me off, of course? I've got a lot to do, but I will have tea here at four and you can come to the station after. My train leaves at 5.30. Do you mind telling Robertson and Fleming, and anyone else you come across, and getting them to come too?"

      The sun was shining when Gobion got out, and he thought that his first success was a good omen for the future. He strolled up to the bank feeling well fed and happy, and the strangeness of his position induced a pleasing sense of excitement and anticipation. He liked to think that he would be in the Strand that same evening.

      When he had got his money he went to Condamine's rooms in Grove Street, where, as he expected, he found Sturtevant. He wore the yellow silk tie this morning.

      They were having breakfast, and Condamine, unwashed and unshaven, dressed in pyjamas, with his feet thrust into a venerable pair of dancing pumps with the bows gone, was indignantly holding forth on the unapproachable manner of some barmaid or other whom he had discovered.

      Gobion took the proffered drink. "First this mornin'," he said, and then, "I'm going down to-day."

      "Game up?" said Sturtevant. These men were never excited.

      "Exactly. When shall you be up?"

      "I shall be in my chambers, 6, Middle Temple Lane, in three weeks' time, ready for a campaign in Fleet Street; we'll work together."

      "Right you are; but aren't you afraid of my queering your pitch?"

      "I'll take the risk of that. When do you go?"

      "Five-thirty train."

      "Shall we come to the station?" said Condamine.

      "No, don't, the 'good' set will be there, and as I hope to carry off most of their spare cash, I think it would be wiser to depart in the odour of sanctity, and you'd rather spoil it."

      "Right oh!" said the president, using one of his favourite phrases, and then raising his glass to his lips, "The old toast?"

      "The old toast," said Condamine, "the three consonants"; and they drank it and said good-bye.

      These three men were bound together by many an orgie, many a shady intrigue and modest swindle; they had no illusions about each other, but now they all felt a keen pang of regret that their little society was to be broken up.

      Gobion went out feeling sorry, but he had too much to do to indulge in sentiment. He hoped to turn his twenty pounds into forty before lunch.

      As he went into the High, bells were ringing, tutors hurrying along, and men going to lectures in cap and gown. A group of men in "Newmarkets" came round the corner of King Edward Street, going to hunt, and nearly knocked down Professor Max Müller, who was carrying a brown paper parcel and walking very fast. The Jap shop-girl in a new hat passed with a smile, and a Christchurch man and rowing blue came out of the "Mitre," where, no doubt, he had been looking over the morning paper, and gleaning information about his own state of health. The scene was bright and animated, and the winter's sun cast a glamour over everything.

      Nearly every other man stopped and spoke to Gobion, and he felt strangely moved to think that he would soon be out of it all and forgotten.

      He turned into the stable-yard of the "Bell," and stood there for a moment irresolutely, frowning, and then with a quick movement went into the private bar.

      It was quite empty of customers, and a girl sat before the fire with her feet on the fender reading a novel.

      She jumped up when Gobion came in, and he put his arm round her waist and kissed her. She was a pretty, fresh-looking girl, and would have been prettier still if she had not so obviously darkened her eyelashes with a burnt hairpin.

      Gobion sat down on the chair, and pulled her on to his knee, smiling at her, and puffing rings of cigarette smoke at her.

      She settled herself comfortably, leaning back in his arms, and began to rattle away in a rather high-pitched voice about a raid of the proctors the night before.

      As is the habit of the more "swagger" sort of barmaid, she used the word "awfully" (with the accent on the aw) once or twice in nearly every sentence, and it was curious to hear how glibly the Varsity slang and contractions slipped from her.

      He played with a loose curl of hair, thinking what a pretty little fool she was.

      "Maudie dear, I'm going away."

      "Do you mean for good?"

      "I'm afraid so, darling."

      She opened her eyes wide and puckered up her forehead. She looked very nice, and he kissed her again.

      "I don't understand," she said.

      "Well, the fact is the guvnor has stopped supplies, and I'm sent down."

      "And you're going to leave me?.. and we've had such an awfully jolly time … oh, you cruel boy!"

      And she began to sob.

      He grinned perplexedly over her head.

      "… Never mind, dearest, I'll write to you and come down and see you soon."

      "I don't know what I shall do… I l-liked you s-so much better than the others… Don't go."

      "But, Maudie, I must. Look here, I will come in after lunch and arrange things properly. I'm in a fearful hurry now, and I shan't go till to-morrow."

      "Really!"

      "Oh, rather; now give me a B. and S. I really must depart."

      She got up from his knee, and went behind the counter in the corner of the room.

      "I'm going to have some first," she said.

      "You're a naughty little girl!"

      "Am I? you rather like it, don't you?"… She looked tempting when she smiled.

      "May I?"

      "You've had such a lot!"

      "Just one to keep me going till after lunch."

      "Stupid boy; well, there – "

      "That was ve-ry nice. Good-bye for the present, dear."

      She made a little mock curtsey. "I shall expect you at two … dear!"

      He kissed his hand and shut the door, breathing a sigh of relief when he got outside.

      "She won't see me again. I'm well out of that," he thought, his cheeks still burning with her hot kisses.

      "Now for the worst ordeal."

      Father Gray came out of the private chapel of the clergy-house in his cassock and biretta.

      He had been hearing the somewhat long confession of an innocuous but unnecessary Keble man, and felt СКАЧАТЬ