The Painted Veil. Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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      XX

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      She got out of her rickshaw in the Victoria Road and walked up the steep, narrow lane till she came to the shop. She lingered outside a moment as though her attention were attracted by the bric-à-brac which was displayed. But a boy who was standing there on the watch for customers, recognising her at once, gave her a broad smile of connivance. He said something in Chinese to someone within and the master, a little, fat-faced man in a black gown, came out and greeted her. She walked in quickly.

      "Mr. Townsend no come yet. You go top-side, yes?"

      She went to the back of the shop and walked up the rickety, dark stairs. The Chinese followed her and unlocked the door that led into the bedroom. It was stuffy and there was an acrid smell of opium. She sat down on a sandalwood chest.

      In a moment she heard a heavy step on the creaking stairs. Townsend came in and shut the door behind him. His face bore a sullen look, but as he saw her it vanished, and he smiled in that charming way of his. He took her quickly in his arms and kissed her lips.

      "Now what's the trouble?"

      "It makes me feel better just to see you," she smiled.

      He sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette.

      "You look rather washed out this morning."

      "I don't wonder," she answered. "I don't think I closed my eyes all night."

      He gave her a look. He was smiling still, but his smile was a little set and unnatural. She thought there was a shade of anxiety in his eyes.

      "He knows," she said.

      There was an instant's pause before he answered.

      "What did he say?"

      "He hasn't said anything."

      "What!" He looked at her sharply. "What makes you think he knows then?"

      "Everything. His look. The way he talked at dinner."

      "Was he disagreeable?"

      "No, on the contrary, he was scrupulously polite. For the first time since we married he didn't kiss me good night."

      She dropped her eyes. She was not sure if Charlie understood. As a rule Walter took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers and would not let them go. His whole body grew tender and passionate with his kiss.

      "Why do you imagine he didn't say anything?"

      "I don't know."

      There was a pause. Kitty sat very still on the sandalwood box and looked with anxious attention at Townsend. His face once more was sullen and there was a frown between his brows. His mouth drooped a little at the corners. But all at once he looked up and a gleam of malicious amusement came into his eyes.

      "I wonder if he is going to say anything."

      She did not answer. She did not know what he meant.

      "After all, he wouldn't be the first man who's shut his eyes in a case of this sort. What has he to gain by making a row? If he'd wanted to make a row he would have insisted on coming into your room." His eyes twinkled and his lips broke into a broad smile. "We should have looked a pair of damned fools."

      "I wish you could have seen his face last night."

      "I expect he was upset. It was naturally a shock. It's a damned humiliating position for any man. He always looks a fool. Walter doesn't give me the impression of a fellow who'd care to wash a lot of dirty linen in public."

      "I don't think he would," she answered СКАЧАТЬ