Название: The Complete Works of George Bernard Shaw
Автор: GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066388058
isbn:
One afternoon he went to the house of Mr Phipson, who had been of service to him at the Antient Orpheus. Among the guests there was Lady Geraldine Porter, Mrs Herbert’s friend, whom Jack did not know. She was a lady of strong common sense, resolutely intolerant of the eccentricities and affectations of artists. No man who wore a velveteen jacket and long hair had a chance of an introduction to or an invitation from Lady Geraldine. These people, she said, can behave themselves properly if they like. We have to learn manners before we go into society: let them do the same, since they are so clever. As to Jack, he was her pet aversion. Society, in her opinion, had one clear duty to Jack — to boycott him until he conformed to its reasonable usages. And she set an unavailing example, by refusing all intercourse with him in the drawing rooms where they frequently found themselves together.
When the inevitable entreaty from Mrs Phipson brought Jack to the piano, Lady Geraldine was sitting close behind him and next to Mrs Herbert. There was a buzz of conversation going on; and he struck a few chords to stop it. Those who affected Jack-worship h’shed at the talkers, and assumed an expression of enthusiastic expectation. The buzz subsided, but did not quite cease. Jack waited patiently, thrumming the keyboard. Still there was not silence. He turned round, and saw Lady Geraldine speaking earnestly to Mrs Herbert, heedless of what was passing in the room. He waited still, with his body twisted towards her and his right hand behind him on the keys, until her unconscious breach of good manners, becoming generally observed, brought about an awful pause. Mrs Herbert hastily warned her by a stealthy twitch. She stopped; looked up; took in the situation; and regarded Jack’s attitude with marked displeasure.
“You mustn’t talk,” he said, corrugating his nose. “You must listen to me.”
Lady Geraldine’s color rose slightly, a phenomenon which no one present had ever witnessed before. “I beg your pardon,” she said, bowing. Jack appreciated the dignity of her tone and gesture. He nodded approvingly — to her disappointment, for she had intended to abash him$mdash;and, turning to the piano, gave out his theme in the form of a stately minuet. Upon this he improvised for twenty-five minutes, to the delight of a few genuine amateurs present. The rest, though much fatigued, were loud in admiration of Jack’s genius; and many of them crowded about him in the hope of inducing him to give a similar performance at their own houses.
“Oh, how I adore music!”said one of them to him later on, when he came and sat by her. If I were only a great genius like you!” Instead of replying he looked indignantly at her. “I really don’t see why I am not supposed capable of appreciating anything,” she continued, “I am very fond of music.”
“Nobody says you’re not,” said Jack. “You are fond enough of music when it walks in its silver slippers — as Mr By-ends was fond of religion.”
The lady, who was a born Irish Protestant, a Roman Catholic by conversion, a sort of freethinker, after the fashionable broad-church manner, by habit, by conviction nothing at all, and very superstitious by nature, always suspected some personal application in allusions to religion. She looked askance at him, and said pettishly, “I wonder you condescend to converse with me at all, since you have such a low opinion of me.”
“I like talking to you — except when you go into rhapsodies over music. Do you know why?”
“I am sure I don’t,” she said, with a little laugh and a glance at him. “Why?”
“Because you are a chatterbox,” said Jack, relishing the glance. “Don’t think, madame, that it is because you are a kindred spirit and musical. I hate musical people. Who is that lady sitting next Mrs Herbert?”
“What! You don’t know! That explains your temerity. She is Lady Geraldine Porter; and you are the first mortal that ever ventured to rebuke her. It was delicious.”
“Is that the lady who would not have me at her house?”
Yes. You have revenged yourself, though.”
Plenty of fools will say so; and therefore I am sorry I spoke to her. However. I cannot be expected to know trifles of this kind, though I am in the confidence of pretty Mrs Saunders. Have you any wicked stories to tell me to-day?”
“No. Except what everybody knows, and what I suppose you knew before anybody — about your friend Miss Sutherland and Adrian Herbert.”
“What about them? Tell me nothing about Miss Sutherland unless you are sure it is true. I do not want to hear anything unpleasant of her.”
“You need not be so cross,” said Mrs. Saunders coolly. “You can ask her for the particulars. The main fact is that Mr Herbert, who was engaged to her, is going to marry Szczympliça, the pianist.”
“Pshaw! That is an old story. He has been seen speaking to her once or twice; and of course—”
“Now, Mr Jack, let me tell you that it is not the old story, which was mere gossip. I never repeat gossip. It is a new story, and a true one. Old Madame Szczympliça told me all about it. Her daughter actually refused Mr Herbert because of his former engagement; and then he went straight to Mary Sutherland, and asked her to give up her claim — which of course she had to do, poor girl. Then he went back to the Sczympliça, and prevailed with her. Miss Sutherland, with all her seriousness shewed that she knows her métier as well as the most frivolous of her sex — as myself, if you like; for she set to work at once to express her remorse at having jilted him. How transparent all our little artifices are after all Mr Jack.”
“I don’t believe a word of it.”
“You shall see. I did not believe it myself at first. But Miss Sutherlan told me in this very room the day before yesterday that Mr Herbert was no longer engaged to her, and that she particularly wished it to be understood that if there was any blame in the matter, it was due to her and not to him. Of course I took in the situation at once. She said it admirably, almost implying that she was magnanimously eager to shield poor Adrian Herbert from my busy tongue. Poor Mary! she is well rid of him if she only knew it. I wonder who will be the next candidate for the post he has deserted Mrs. Saunders, as she wondered, glanced at Jack’s eyes.
“Why need she fill it at all? Every woman’s head is not occupied with stuff of that sort.” Jack spoke gruffly, and seemed troubled, After a few moments, during which she leaned back lazily, and smiled at him, he rose. “Goodbye,” he said. “You are not very amusing to-day. I suppose you are telling this fine story of yours to whoever has time to listen to it.”
“Not at all, Mr Jack. Everybody is telling it to me. I am quite tired of it.”
Jack uttered a grunt, and left her. СКАЧАТЬ