Название: The Complete Works of George Bernard Shaw
Автор: GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066388058
isbn:
“I am very sorry, Clara. Why did he behave so? Did you say anything rude to him?”
“Not likely, Miss. I hope I respect myself more than to stop and bandy words. His door was wide open; and he had his portmanteau in the middle of the floor, and was heaping his things into it as fast as he could. He was grinding his teeth, too, and looked reg’lar wicked.”
“Well, Clara, as Mr Jack will be leaving very soon, I think you had better pass it over.”
“Indeed, Miss? Is Mr Jack going?”
“Yes,” said Mary, turning to her easel.
“Oh!” said the housemaid slowly. After lingering a moment in vain for further information, she hastened to the kitchen to tell the news. She had closed the door; but it did not fasten, and presently a draught from an open window in the hall blew it softly open. Though Mary wanted it shut, so that Jack should not see her if he passed on his way out, she was afraid to stir. She had never been so unreasonably nervous in her life before; and she sat there helpless pretending to draw until she heard the dreaded footstep on the stairs. Her heart beat in a terrible crescendo as the steps approached, passed, stopped, returned, and entered the room. When she forced herself to look up, he was standing there eying her, with her father’s letter in his hand.
“What does this mean?” he said.
Mary glanced round as it to escape from his eyes but had to look at him as she replied faintly, “You had better ask Mr Sutherland.”
“Mr Sutherland has nothing to do with it. You are mistress here.”
He waited long enough for an answer to shew that she had none to make. Then, shaking his head, he deliberately tore the letter into fragments. That stung her into saying:
“I do not wish to pursue the subject with you.”
“I have not asked your leave,” he replied. “I give you a lesson for the benefit cf the next wretch that will hold my position at the mercy of your ignorant caprice. You have spoiled the labor of the past three months for me; upset my plans; ruined me, for aught I know. Tell your father, who wants to discharge me at the end of the month, that I discharge myself now. I am not a dog, to sit at his table after the injustice he has done me.”
“He has done you no injustice, Mr Jack. He has a perfect right to choose who shall remain in his household. And I think he has acted rightly. So does Mr Herbert.”
Jack laughed gruffly. “Poor devil!” he said, “he fancies he can give ideas to the world because a few great men have given some to him. I am sorry I let his stiff manners put me out of temper with him the other night. He hates me instinctively because he feels in me what he misses in himself. But you ought to know better. Why, he hated that drunken rascal I had here, because he could handle his clarinet like a man with stuff in him. I have no more time for talking now. I have been your friend and have worked hard with your brother for your sake, because I thought you helped me to this place when I was desperately circumstanced. But now I shall not easily forgive you.” He shook his head again at her, and walked out, shutting the door behind him. The housemaid was in the hall. “My portmanteau and a couple of other things are on the landing outside my door,” he said, stopping as he passed her. “You will please give them to the man I send.”
“And by whose orders am I to trouble myself about your luggage, pray?”
Jack turned and slowly advanced upon her until she, retreating, stood against the wall. “By my orders, Mrs. Boldface,” he said. “Do as you are bid — and paid for, you hussy.”
“Well, certainly,” began the housemaid, as he turned away, “that’s—”
Jack halted and looked round wickedly at her. She retired quickly, grumbling. As he left the house, Herbert, coming in at the gate, was surprised to see him laughing heartily; for he had never seen him in good humor before.
“Good morning, Mr Jack,” said Adrian as they passed.
“Goodbye,” said Jack, derisively. And he went on. Before Adrian reached the doorstep, he heard the other roaring with laughter in the road.
Jack, when he had had his laugh out, walked quickly away, chuckling, and occasionally shaking his fist at the sky. When he came to Colonel Beatty’s house, he danced fantastically past the gate, snapping his fingers. He laughed boisterously at this performance at intervals until he came into the streets. Here, under the eye of the town, he was constrained to behave himself less remarkably; and the constraint made him so impatient that he suddenly gave up an intention he had formed of taking a lodging there, and struck off to the railway station at Slough.
“When is there a train to London?” he said, presenting himself at the booking-office.
“There’s one going now,” replied the clerk coolly.
“Now!” exclaimed Jack. “Give me a ticket — third class — single.”
“Go to the other window. First class only here.”
“First class, then,” cried Jack, exasperated. “Quick.” And he pushed in a half sovereign.
The clerk, startled by Jack’s voice, hastily gave him a ticket and an installment of the change. Jack left the rest, and ran to the platform just in time to hear the engine whistle.
“Late, sir. You’re late,” said a man in the act of slamming the barrier. By way of reply, Jack dragged it violently back and rushed after the departing train. There was a shout and a rush of officials to stop him; and one of them seized him, but, failing to hold him, was sent reeling by the collision. The next moment Jack opened the door of a first-class carriage, and plunged in in great disorder. The door was shut after him by an official, who stood on the footboard to cry out, “You will be summonsed for this, sir, so you shall. You shall be sum—”
“Go to the deuce,” retorted Jack, in a thundering voice. As the man jumped off, he turned from the door, and found himself confronted by a tall thin old gentleman, sprucely dressed, who cried in a high voice:
“Sir, this is a private compartment. I have engaged this compartment. You have no business here.”
“You should have had the door locked then,” said Jack, with surly humor, seating himself, and folding his arms with an air of concentrated doggedness.
“I — I consider your intrusion most unwarrantable — most unjustifiable,” continued the the gentleman.
Jack chuckled too obviously, at the old gentleman’s curious high voice and at his discomfiture. Then, deferring a little to white hairs, he said, “Well, well: I can get into another carriage at the next station.”
“You can do nothing of the sort, sir,” cried the gentleman, more angrily than before. “This is an express train. It does not stop.”
“Then I do, — where I am,” aid Jack curtly, with a new and more serious expression of indignation; for he had just remarked that there was one other person in the carriage — a young lady.
СКАЧАТЬ