A London Life, and Other Tales. Генри Джеймс

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СКАЧАТЬ violence, without passion or the sting of a new discovery; there was a familiar gaiety in his trivial little tone and he had the air of being so sure of what he said that he did not need to exaggerate in order to prove enough.

      'Oh, Lionel!' the girl murmured, turning pale. 'Is that the particular thing you wished to say to me?'

      'And you can't say it's my fault—you won't pretend to do that, will you?' he went on. 'Ain't I quiet, ain't I kind, don't I go steady? Haven't I given her every blessed thing she has ever asked for?'

      'You haven't given her an example!' Laura replied, with spirit. 'You don't care for anything in the wide world but to amuse yourself, from the beginning of the year to the end. No more does she—and perhaps it's even worse in a woman. You are both as selfish as you can live, with nothing in your head or your heart but your vulgar pleasure, incapable of a concession, incapable of a sacrifice!' She at least spoke with passion; something that had been pent up in her soul broke out and it gave her relief, almost a momentary joy.

      It made Lionel Berrington stare; he coloured, but after a moment he threw back his head with laughter. 'Don't you call me kind when I stand here and take all that? If I'm so keen for my pleasure what pleasure do you give me? Look at the way I take it, Laura. You ought to do me justice. Haven't I sacrificed my home? and what more can a man do?'

      'I don't think you care any more for your home than Selina does. And it's so sacred and so beautiful, God forgive you! You are all blind and senseless and heartless and I don't know what poison is in your veins. There is a curse on you and there will be a judgment!' the girl went on, glowing like a young prophetess.

      'What do you want me to do? Do you want me to stay at home and read the Bible?' her companion demanded with an effect of profanity, confronted with her deep seriousness.

      'It wouldn't do you any harm, once in a while.'

      'There will be a judgment on her—that's very sure, and I know where it will be delivered,' said Lionel Berrington, indulging in a visible approach to a wink. 'Have I done the half to her she has done to me? I won't say the half but the hundredth part? Answer me truly, my dear!'

      'I don't know what she has done to you,' said Laura, impatiently.

      'That's exactly what I want to tell you. But it's difficult. I'll bet you five pounds she's doing it now!'

      'You are too unable to make yourself respected,' the girl remarked, not shrinking now from the enjoyment of an advantage—that of feeling herself superior and taking her opportunity.

      Her brother-in-law seemed to feel for the moment the prick of this observation. 'What has such a piece of nasty boldness as that to do with respect? She's the first that ever defied me!' exclaimed the young man, whose aspect somehow scarcely confirmed this pretension. 'You know all about her—don't make believe you don't,' he continued in another tone. 'You see everything—you're one of the sharp ones. There's no use beating about the bush, Laura—you've lived in this precious house and you're not so green as that comes to. Besides, you're so good yourself that you needn't give a shriek if one is obliged to say what one means. Why didn't you grow up a little sooner? Then, over there in New York, it would certainly have been you I would have made up to. You would have respected me—eh? now don't say you wouldn't.' He rambled on, turning about the room again, partly like a person whose sequences were naturally slow but also a little as if, though he knew what he had in mind, there were still a scruple attached to it that he was trying to rub off.

      'I take it that isn't what I must sit up to listen to, Lionel, is it?' Laura said, wearily.

      'Why, you don't want to go to bed at nine o'clock, do you? That's all rot, of course. But I want you to help me.'

      'To help you—how?'

      'I'll tell you—but you must give me my head. I don't know what I said to you before dinner—I had had too many brandy and sodas. Perhaps I was too free; if I was I beg your pardon. I made the governess bolt—very proper in the superintendent of one's children. Do you suppose they saw anything? I shouldn't care for that. I did take half a dozen or so; I was thirsty and I was awfully gratified.'

      'You have little enough to gratify you.'

      'Now that's just where you are wrong. I don't know when I've fancied anything so much as what I told you.'

      'What you told me?'

      'About her being in Paris. I hope she'll stay a month!'

      'I don't understand you,' Laura said.

      'Are you very sure, Laura? My dear, it suits my book! Now you know yourself he's not the first.'

      Laura was silent; his round eyes were fixed on her face and she saw something she had not seen before—a little shining point which on Lionel's part might represent an idea, but which made his expression conscious as well as eager. 'He?' she presently asked. 'Whom are you speaking of?'

      'Why, of Charley Crispin, G–' And Lionel Berrington accompanied this name with a startling imprecation.

      'What has he to do–?'

      'He has everything to do. Isn't he with her there?'

      'How should I know? You said Lady Ringrose.'

      'Lady Ringrose is a mere blind—and a devilish poor one at that. I'm sorry to have to say it to you, but he's her lover. I mean Selina's. And he ain't the first.'

      There was another short silence while they stood opposed, and then Laura asked—and the question was unexpected—'Why do you call him Charley?'

      'Doesn't he call me Lion, like all the rest?' said her brother-in-law, staring.

      'You're the most extraordinary people. I suppose you have a certain amount of proof before you say such things to me?'

      'Proof, I've oceans of proof! And not only about Crispin, but about Deepmere.'

      'And pray who is Deepmere?'

      'Did you never hear of Lord Deepmere? He has gone to India. That was before you came. I don't say all this for my pleasure, Laura,' Mr. Berrington added.

      'Don't you, indeed?' asked the girl with a singular laugh. 'I thought you were so glad.'

      'I'm glad to know it but I'm not glad to tell it. When I say I'm glad to know it I mean I'm glad to be fixed at last. Oh, I've got the tip! It's all open country now and I know just how to go. I've gone into it most extensively; there's nothing you can't find out to-day—if you go to the right place. I've—I've–' He hesitated a moment, then went on: 'Well, it's no matter what I've done. I know where I am and it's a great comfort. She's up a tree, if ever a woman was. Now we'll see who's a beetle and who's a toad!' Lionel Berrington concluded, gaily, with some incongruity of metaphor.

      'It's not true—it's not true—it's not true,' Laura said, slowly.

      'That's just what she'll say—though that's not the way she'll say it. Oh, if she could get off by your saying it for her!—for you, my dear, would be believed.'

      'Get off—what do you mean?' the girl demanded, with a coldness she failed to feel, for she was tingling all over with shame and rage.

      'Why, what do you suppose I'm talking about? I'm going to haul her up and to have it out.'

      'You're going to make a scandal?'

      'Make СКАЧАТЬ