The Complete Works of George Bernard Shaw. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ she said, in her most gracious manner. “I wonder whether you will allow me to ask for another and greater favor.”

      “What is it?” said Jack, suspiciously.

      “Mrs Herbert,” replied Lady Geraldine, with a polite simulation of embarrassment,” is going to make use of my box at the theatre this evening; and she and has asked Miss Sutherland there. We are very anxious that you should accompany us, if you have no important engagement. As I am the nominal owner of the box, may I beg you to come with us.”

      Jack was not satisfied. The invitation was unaccountable to him, as he knew perfectly well what Lady Geraldine thought of him. Instead of answering, he stood looking at her in a perplexity which expressed itself unconsciously in hideous grimaces.

      “Will you allow me to send my carriage to your house,” she said, when the pause became unbearable.

      “Yes. No. I’ll join you at the theatre. Will that do?”

      Lady Geraldine, resenting his manner, put strong constraint on herself, as, with careful courtesy she told him the name of the theatre and the hour of the performance. He listened to her attentively, but gave no sign of assent. When she had finished speaking, he looked absently up the staircase; shewed his teeth; and hammered a tune on his chin with the edge of his hat. The strain on Lady Geraldine’s forbearance became very great indeed.

      “May we depend on your coming?” she said at last.

      “Why do you want me to come?” he exclaimed suddenly. “You don’t like me.”

      Lady Geraldine drew back a step. Then, losing patience, she said sharply, “What answer do you expect me to make to that, Mr. Jack?”

      “None,” said he with mock gravity. “It is unanswerable. From Capharsalama on eagle wings I fly.” And after making her another bow, he left the house chuckling. As he disappeared, Mrs Herbert came downstairs and joined Lady Geraldine.

      “Well,” she said. “Is Mary to be made happy at our expense?”

      “Yes,” said Lady Geraldine. “I bearded the monster here, and got what I deserved for my pains. The man is a savage.”

      “I told you what to expect.”

      “That did not make it a bit pleasanter. You had better come and dine with me. Sir John is going to Greenwich; and we may as well enjoy ourselves together up to the last moment.”

      That evening Mary Sutherland reluctantly accompanied Mrs Herbert and Lady Geraldine to the theatre, to witness the first performance in England of a newly translated French drama. When she had been a few minutes seated in their box, she was surprised by the entry of Jack, whose black silk kerchief, which he persisted in wearing instead of a necktie, was secured with a white pin, shewing that he had dressed himself with unusual care.

      “Mr Jack!” exclaimed Mary.

      “Just so, Mr Jack,” he said, hanging his only hat, which had suffered much from wet weather and bad use on a peg behind the door. “Did you not expect him?”

      Mary, about to say no, hesitated, and glanced at Lady Geraldine.

      “I see you did not,” said Jack, placing his chair behind hers. “A surprise, eh?”

      “An agreeable surprise,” said Mrs Herbert smoothly, with her fan before her lips.

      “An accidental one,” said Lady Geraldine. “I forgot to tell Miss Sutherland that you had been good enough to promise to come.”

      Mrs Herbert is laughing at me,” said Jack, goodhumoredly. “So are you. It was you who were good enough to ask me, not I who was good enough to come. Listen to the band. Those eighteen or twenty bad players cost more than six good ones would, and are not half so agreeable to listen to. Do you hear what they are playing? Can you imagine anyone writing such stuff?”

      “It certainly sounds exceedingly ugly; but I am notoriously unmusical, so my opinion is not worth anything.”

      “Still, so far as you can judge, you don’t like it?”

      “Certainly not.”

      I am beginning to like it,” said Mrs Herbert, coolly. “I am quite aware that it is one of your own compositions — or some arrangement of one.”

      “Ha! ha! Souvenirs de Jack, they call it. This is what a composer has to surfer whenever he goes to a public entertainment, Lady Geraldine.”

      “In revenge for which, he ungenerously lays traps for others, Mr Jack.”

      “You are right,” said Jack, suddenly becoming moody. “It was ungenerous; but I shared the discomfiture. There they go at my fantasia. Accursed be the man — Hark! The dog has taken it upon himself to correct the harmony.” He ceased speaking, and leaned forward on his elbows, grinding his teeth and muttering. Mary, in low spirits herself, made an effort to soothe him.

      “Surely you do not care about such a trifle as that,” she began. “What harm—”

      “You call it a trifle,” he said, interrupting her threateningly.

      “Certainly,” interposed Lady Geraldine, in ironically measured tones. “A composer such as you can afford to overlook an ephemeral travesty to which nobody is listening. Were I in your place, I would not suffer a thought of resentment to ruffle the calm surface of my contempt for it.”

      “Wouldn’t you?” said Jack, sarcastically. “Tell me one thing. You are very rich — as rich in money as I am in music. Would you like to be robbed of a sovereign?”

      “I am not fond of being robbed at all, Mr Jack.”

      “Aha! Neither am I. You wouldn’t miss the sovereign — people would think you stingy for thinking about it. Perhaps I can afford to be misrepresented by a rascally fiddler for a few nights here as well as you could afford the pound. But I don’t like it.”

      “You are always unanswerable,” said Lady Geraldine, good humoredly.

      Jack stood up and looked round the theatre. “All the world and his wife are here tonight,” he said. That whitehaired gentleman hiding at the back of the balcony is the father of an old pupil of mine — a man cursed with an ungovernable temper. His name is Brailsford. The youth with the eyeglass in the stalls is a critic: he called me a promising young composer the other day. Who is that coming into the box nearly opposite? The Sczympliça, is it not’ I see Madame’s top-knot coming in through the inner gloom. She takes the best seat, of course, just as naturally as if she was a child at her first pantomime. There is a handsome gentleman with a fair beard dimly visible behind. It must be Master Adrian. He has a queer notion of life — he added, forgetting that he was in the presence of “that chap’s” mother.

      Mrs Herbert looked round gravely at him; and Lady Geraldine frowned. He did not notice them: he was watching Mary, who had shrunk for a moment behind the curtain, but was now sitting in full view of Herbert, looking at the stage, from which the curtain had just gone up.

      Nothing more was said in the box until, at a few words words pronounced behind the scenes by a strange voice. Jack uttered an inarticulate sound and stood up.

      Then there came upon СКАЧАТЬ