The Essential W. Somerset Maugham Collection. W. Somerset Maugham

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СКАЧАТЬ you have all the makings of a perfect prig."

      "D'you think so?"

      "You must try to be less moral. The moral young man is rather funny for a change, but he palls after a time."

      "If I bore you, you have only to say so, and I won't bother you again."

      "And moral young men shouldn't get cross; it's very bad manners," she answered, smiling.

      Before he knew what had happened, James found himself madly in love with Mrs. Wallace. But what a different passion was this, resembling not at all that pallid flame which alone he had experienced! How could he recognise the gentle mingling of friendship and of common-sense which he called love in that destroying violence which troubled his days like a fever? He dreamed of the woman at night; he seemed only to live when he was with her. The mention of her name made his heart beat, and meeting her he trembled and turned cold. By her side he found nothing to say; he was like wax in her hands, without will or strength. The touch of her fingers sent the blood rushing through his veins insanely; and understanding his condition, she took pleasure in touching him, to watch the little shiver of desire that convulsed his frame. In a very self-restrained man love works ruinously; and it burnt James now, this invisible, unconscious fire, till he was consumed utterly--till he was mad with passion. And then suddenly, at some chance word, he knew what had happened; he knew that he was in love with the wife of his good friend, Pritchard-Wallace; and he thought of Mary Clibborn.

      There was no hesitation now, nor doubt; James had only been in danger because he was unaware of it. He never thought of treachery to his friend or to Mary; he was horror-stricken, hating himself. He looked over the brink of the precipice at the deadly sin, and recoiled, shuddering. He bitterly reproached himself, taking for granted that some error of his had led to the catastrophe. But his duty was obvious; he knew he must kill the sinful love, whatever pain it cost him; he must crush it as he would some noxious vermin.

      James made up his mind never to see Mrs. Wallace again; and he thought that God was on his side helping him, since, with her husband, she was leaving in a month for England. He applied for leave. He could get away for a few weeks, and on his return Mrs. Wallace would be gone. He managed to avoid her for several days, but at last she came across him by chance, and he could not escape.

      "I didn't know you were so fond of hide-and-seek," she said, "I think it's rather a stupid game."

      "I don't understand," replied James, growing pale.

      "Why have you been dodging round corners to avoid me as if I were a dun, and inventing the feeblest excuses not to come to me?"

      James stood for a moment, not knowing what to answer; his knees trembled, and he sweated with the agony of his love. It was an angry, furious passion, that made him feel he could almost seize the woman by the throat and strangle her.

      "Did you know that I am engaged to be married?" he asked at length.

      "I've never known a sub who wasn't. It's the most objectionable of all their vicious habits. What then?" She looked at him, smiling; she knew very well the power of her dark eyes, fringed with long lashes. "Don't be silly," she added. "Come and see me, and bring her photograph, and you shall talk to me for two hours about her. Will you come?"

      "It's very kind of you. I don't think I can."

      "Why not? You're really very rude."

      "I'm extremely busy."

      "Nonsense! You must come. Don't look as if I were asking you to do something quite horrible. I shall expect you to tea."

      She bound him by his word, and James was forced to go. When he showed the photograph, Mrs. Pritchard-Wallace looked at it with a curious expression. It was the work of a country photographer, awkward and ungainly, with the head stiffly poised, and the eyes hard and fixed; the general impression was ungraceful and devoid of charm, Mrs. Wallace noticed the country fashion of her clothes.

      "It's extraordinary that subalterns should always get engaged to the same sort of girl."

      James flushed, "It's not a very good one of her."

      "They always photograph badly," murmured Mrs. Wallace.

      "She's the best girl in the world. You can't think how good, and kind, and simple she is; she reminds me always of an English breeze."

      "I don't like east winds myself," said Mrs. Wallace. "But I can see she has all sorts of admirable qualities."

      "D'you know why I came to see you to-day?"

      "Because I forced you," said Mrs. Wallace, laughing.

      "I came to say good-bye; I've got a month's leave."

      "Oh, but I shall be gone by the time you come back."

      "I know. It is for that reason."

      Mrs. Wallace looked at him quickly, hesitated, then glanced away.

      "Is it so bad as that?"

      "Oh, don't you understand?" cried James, breaking suddenly from his reserve. "I must tell you. I shall never see you again, and it can't matter. I love you with all my heart and soul. I didn't know what love was till I met you. God help me, it was only friendship I had for Mary! This is so different. Oh, I hate myself! I can't help it; the mere touch of your hand sends me mad with passion. I daren't see you again--I'm not a blackguard. I know it's quite hopeless. And I've given my word to Mary."

      The look of her eyes, the sound of her voice, sent half his fine intentions flying before the wind. He lost command over himself--but only for a moment; the old habits were strong.

      "I beg your pardon! I oughtn't to have spoken. Don't be angry with me for what I've said. I couldn't help it. You thought me a fool because I ran away from you. It was all I could do. I couldn't help loving you. You understand now, don't you? I know that you will never wish to see me again, and it's better for both of us. Good-bye."

      He stretched out his hand.

      "I didn't know it was so bad as that," she said, looking at him with kindly eyes.

      "Didn't you see me tremble when the hem of your dress touched me by accident? Didn't you hear that I couldn't speak; the words were dried up in my throat?" He sank into a chair weakly; but then immediately gathering himself together, sprang up. "Good-bye," he said. "Let me go quickly."

      She gave him her hand, and then, partly in kindness, partly in malice, bent forward and kissed his lips. James gave a cry, a sob; now he lost command over himself entirely. He took her in his arms roughly, and kissed her mouth, her eyes, her hair--so passionately that Mrs. Wallace was frightened. She tried to free herself; but he only held her closer, madly kissing her lips.

      "Take care," she said. "What are you doing? Let me go!" And she pushed him away.

      She was a cautious woman, who never allowed flirtation to go beyond certain decorous lengths, and she was used to a milder form of philandering.

      "You've disarranged my hair, you silly boy!" She СКАЧАТЬ