The Essential Somerset Maugham: 33 Books in One Edition. Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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СКАЧАТЬ let him be sent to prison! Couldn’t he have the money instead of my going away?”

      Basil sat down at his desk to think out the matter, and, resting his face thoughtfully on his hands, sought to avoid Jenny’s fixed, appealing gaze; he did not want her to see the consternation, the abject shame, with which her news oppressed him. But all the same she saw.

      “What are you thinking about, Basil?”

      “Nothing particular. I was wondering how to raise the money.”

      “You don’t think because he’s my brother I must be tarred with the same brush?”

      He looked at her without answering; it was certainly unfortunate that his wife’s mother should drink more than was seemly and her brother have but primitive ideas about property.

      “It’s not my fault,” she cried, with bitter pain, interrupting his silence. “Don’t think too hardly of me.”

      “No, it’s not your fault,” he answered, with involuntary coldness. “You must go away to Brighton all the same, but I’m afraid it means no holiday in the summer.”

      He wrote a cheque and then a letter to his bank begging them to advance a hundred pounds on securities they held.

      “There he is,” cried Jenny, hearing a ring. “I told him to come back in half an hour.”

      Basil got up.

      “You’d better give the cheque to your brother at once. Say that I don’t wish to see him.”

      “Isn’t he to come here any more, Basil?”

      “That is as you like, Jenny. If you wish, we’ll pretend he was unfortunate rather than—dishonest; but I’d rather he didn’t refer to the matter. I want neither his thanks nor his excuses.”

      Without answering, Jenny took the cheque. She would have given a great deal to fling her arms gratefully round Basil’s neck, begging him to forgive, but there was a hardness in his manner which frightened her. All the evening he sat in moody silence, and Jenny dare not speak; his kiss when he bade her good-night had never been so frigid, and, unable to sleep, she cried bitterly. She could not understand the profound abhorrence with which he looked upon the incident; to her mind, it was little more than a mischance occasioned by Jimmie’s excessive sharpness, and she was disposed to agree with her brother that only luck had been against him. She somewhat resented Basil’s refusal to hear any defence and his complete certainty that the very worst must be true.

      A few days later, coming unexpectedly, Kent found Jenny in earnest conversation with her brother, who had quite regained his jaunty air and betrayed no false shame at Basil’s knowledge of his escapade.

      “Well met, ‘Oratio!” he cried, holding out his hand. “I just come in on the chance of seeing you. I wanted to thank you for that loan.”

      “I’d rather you didn’t speak of it.”

      “Why, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I ’ad a bit of bad luck, that’s all. I’ll pay you back, you know; you needn’t fear about that.”

      He gave a voluble account of the affair, proving how misfortune may befall the deserving, and what a criminal complexion the most innocent acts may wear. Basil, against his will admiring the fellow’s jocose effrontery, listened with chilling silence.

      “You need not excuse yourself,” he said, at length. “My reasons for helping you were purely selfish. Except for Jenny, it would have been a matter of complete indifference to me if you had been sent to prison or not.”

      “Oh, that was all kid! They wouldn’t have prosecuted. Don’t I tell you they had no case. You believe me, don’t you?”

      “No, I don’t.”

      “What d’you mean by that?” asked James, angrily.

      “We won’t discuss it.”

      The other did not answer, but shot at Basil a glance of singular malevolence.

      “You can whistle for your money, young feller,” he muttered, under his breath. “You won’t get much out of me.”

      He had but small intention of paying back the rather large sum, but now abandoned even that. During the six months since Jenny’s marriage he had never been able to surmount the freezing politeness with which Basil used him; he hated him for his supercilious air, but, needing his help, took care, though sometimes he could scarcely keep his temper, to preserve a familiar cordiality. He knew his brother-in-law would welcome an opportunity to forbid him the house, and this, especially now that he was out of work, he determined to avoid; he stomached the affront as best he could, but solaced his pride with the determination sooner or later to revenge himself.

      “Well, so long,” he cried, with undiminished serenity, “I’ll be toddling.”

      Jenny watched this scene with some alarm, but with more irritation, since Basil’s frigid contempt for her brother seemed a reflection on himself.

      “You might at least be polite to him,” she said, when Jimmie was gone.

      “I’m afraid I’ve pretty well used up all my politeness.”

      “After all, he is my brother.”

      “That is a fact I deplore with all my heart,” he answered.

      “You needn’t be so hard on him now he’s down. He’s no worse than plenty more.”

      Basil turned to her with flaming eyes.

      “Good God, don’t you realise the man’s a thief! Doesn’t it mean anything to you that he’s dishonest? Don’t you see how awful it is that a man—”

      He broke off with a gesture of disgust. It was the first quarrel they ever had, and a shrewish look came to Jenny’s face, her pallor gave way to an angry flush. But quickly Basil recovered himself; recollecting his wife’s illness and her bitter disappointment at the poor babe’s death, he keenly regretted the outburst.

      “I beg your pardon, Jenny. I didn’t mean to say that. I should have remembered you were fond of him.”

      But, since she did not answer, looking away somewhat sulkily, he sat down on the arm of her chair and stroked her wonderful, rich tresses.

      “Don’t be cross, darling. We won’t quarrel, will we?”

      Unable to resist his tenderness, tears came to her eyes, and passionately she kissed his caressing hands.

      “No, no,” she cried. “I love you too much. Don’t ever speak angrily to me; it hurts so awfully.”

      The momentary cloud passed, and they spoke of the approaching visit to Brighton. Jenny was to take lodgings, and she made him promise faithfully that he would come every Saturday. Frank had offered a room in Harley Street, and while she was away Basil meant to stay with him.

      “You won’t forget me, Basil?”

      “Of course not! СКАЧАТЬ