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

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СКАЧАТЬ still tried to excuse himself, but finding everyone insistent, went at last, with very bad grace, to the piano. He not only sang badly, but knew it, and was irritated that he should be forced to make a fool of himself. Mr. Dryland sang badly, but perfectly satisfied with himself, needed no pressing when his turn came. He made a speciality of old English songs, and thundered out in his most ecclesiastical manner a jovial ditty entitled, "Down Among the Dead Men."

      The afternoon was concluded by an adjournment to the dining-room to play bagatelle, the most inane of games, to which the billiard-player goes with contempt, changed quickly to wrath when he cannot put the balls into absurd little holes. Mary was an adept, and took pleasure in showing James how the thing should be done. He noticed that she and the curate managed the whole affair between them, arranging partners and advising freely. Mrs. Clibborn alone refused to play, saying frankly it was too idiotic a pastime.

      At last the party broke up, and in a group bade their farewells.

      "I'll walk home with you, Mary, if you don't mind," said James, "and smoke a pipe."

      Mary suddenly became radiant, and Colonel Parsons gave her a happy little smile and a friendly nod.... At last James had his opportunity. He lingered while Mary gathered together her music, and waited again to light his pipe, so that when they came out of the Vicarage gates the rest of the company were no longer in sight. The day had become overcast and sombre; on the even surface of the sky floated little ragged black clouds, like the fragments cast to the wind of some widowed, ample garment. It had grown cold, and James, accustomed to a warmer air, shivered a little. The country suddenly appeared cramped and circumscribed; in the fading light a dulness of colour came over tree and hedgerow which was singularly depressing. They walked in silence, while James looked for words. All day he had been trying to find some manner to express himself, but his mind, perplexed and weary, refused to help him. The walk to Mary's house could not take more than five minutes, and he saw the distance slipping away rapidly. If he meant to say anything it must be said at once; and his mouth was dry, he felt almost a physical inability to speak. He did not know how to prepare the way, how to approach the subject; and he was doubly tormented by the absolute necessity of breaking the silence.

      But it was Mary who spoke first.

      "D'you know, I've been worrying a little about you, Jamie."

      "Why?"

      "I'm afraid I hurt your feelings yesterday. Don't you remember, when we were visiting my patients--I think I spoke rather harshly. I didn't mean to. I'm very sorry."

      "I had forgotten all about it," he said, looking at her. "I have no notion what you said to offend me."

      "I'm glad of that," she answered, smiling, "but it does me good to apologise. Will you think me very silly if I say something to you?"

      "Of course not!"

      "Well, I want to say that if I ever do anything you don't like, or don't approve of, I wish you would tell me."

      After that, how could he say immediately that he no longer loved her, and wished to be released from his engagement?

      "I'm afraid you think I'm a very terrifying person," answered James.

      Her words had made his announcement impossible; another day had gone, and weakly he had let it pass.

      "What shall I do?" he murmured under his breath. "What a coward I am!"

      They came to the door of the Clibborns' house and Mary turned to say good-bye. She bent forward, smiling and blushing, and he quickly kissed her.

      * * *

      In the evening, James was sitting by the fire in the dining-room, thinking of that one subject which occupied all his thoughts. Colonel Parsons and his wife were at the table, engaged upon the game of backgammon which invariably filled the interval between supper and prayers. The rattle of dice came to James indistinctly, as in a dream, and he imagined fantastically that unseen powers were playing for his life. He sat with his head between his hands, staring at the flames as though to find in them a solution to his difficulty; but mockingly they spoke only of Mrs. Wallace and the caress of her limpid eyes. He turned away with a gesture of impatience. The game was just finished, and Mrs. Parsons, catching the expression on his face, asked:

      "What are you thinking of, Jamie?"

      "I?" he answered, looking up quickly, as though afraid that his secret had been divined. "Nothing!"

      Mrs. Parsons put the backgammon board away, making up her mind to speak, for she too suffered from a shyness which made the subjects she had nearest at heart precisely those that she could least bear to talk about.

      "When do you think of getting married, Jamie?"

      James started.

      "Why, you asked me that yesterday," He tried to make a joke of it. "Upon my word, you're very anxious to get rid of me."

      "I wonder if it's occurred to you that you're making Mary a little unhappy?"

      James stood up and leaned against the mantelpiece, his face upon his hand.

      "I should be sorry to do that, mother."

      "You've been home four days, and you've not said a word to show you love her."

      "I'm afraid I'm not very demonstrative."

      "That's what I said!" cried the Colonel, triumphantly.

      "Can't you try to say a word or two to prove you care for her, Jamie? She _is_ so fond of you," continued his mother. "I don't want to interfere with your private concerns, but I think it's only thoughtlessness on your part; and I'm sure you don't wish to make Mary miserable. Poor thing, she's so unhappy at home; she yearns for a little affection.... Won't you say something to her about your marriage?"

      "Has she asked you to speak to me?" inquired James.

      "No, dear. You know that she would never do anything of the kind. She would hate to think that I had said anything."

      James paused a moment.

      "I will speak to her to-morrow, mother."

      "That's right!" said the Colonel, cheerfully. "I know she's going to be in all the morning. Colonel and Mrs. Clibborn are going into Tunbridge Wells."

      "It will be a good opportunity."

      IX

      In the morning Mrs. Parsons was in the hall, arranging flowers, when James passed through to get his hat.

      "Are you going to see Mary now?"

      "Yes, mother."

      "That's a good boy."

      She did not notice that her son's usual gravity was intensified, or that his very lips were pallid, and his eyes careworn and lustreless.

      It СКАЧАТЬ