The Essential G. B. Shaw: Celebrated Plays, Novels, Personal Letters, Essays & Articles. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ jingle-jingle with twelve notes? But at such times, Bach seems just as great a fool as I. Ask me at any time whether I cannot compose as good or better music than any Tom, Dick, or Harry now walking upon two legs in England; and I shall not trouble you with any cant about my humbleness or unworthiness.”

      “Can you compose better music than Mozart’s? I believe you are boasting out of sheer antipathy to poor Adrian.”

      “Does Mozart’s music express me? If not, what does it matter to me whether it is better or worse? I must make my own music, such as it is or such as I am — and I would as soon be myself as Mozart or Beethoven or any of them. To hear your Adrian talk one would think he would rather be anybody than himself. Perhaps he is right there, too.”

      “Let it be agreed, Mr Jack, that you have a low opinion of Adrian; and let us say no more about him.”

      “Very well. But let us go back to the other room. You are in a bad humor for a quiet chat, Miss Mary.”

      “Then go alone; and leave me here. I do not mind being here by myself at all. I know I am not gaily disposed; and I fear I am spoiling your evening.”

      “You are gay enough for me. I hate women who are always grinning. Besides, Miss Mary, I am fond of you, and find attraction in all your moods.”

      “Yes, I am sure you are very fond of me,” said Mary with listless irony, as she walked away with him. In the other room they came upon Herbert, seeking anxiously someone in the eddy near the door, formed by people going away. Mary did not attempt to disturb him; but he presently caught sight of her. Thinking that she was alone — for Jack, buttonholed by Phipson, had fallen behind for a moment — he made his way to her and said:

      “Where is Mrs Phipson, Mary? Are you alone?”

      “I have not seen her for some time.” She had all but added that she hoped he had not disturbed himself to come to her; but she refrained, feeling that spiteful speeches were unworthy of herself and of him.

      “Where did you vanish to for so long?” he said. “I have hardly seen you the whole evening.”

      “Were you looking for me?”

      He avoided her eyes, and stepped aside to make way for a lady who was passing. “Shall I get you an ice he said, after this welcome interruption. “It is very warm in here.”

      “No. thank you. You know that I never eat ices.”

      “I thought that this furnace of a room might have prevailed over your hygienic principles. Have you enjoyed yourself?”

      I have not been especially happy or the reverse. I enjoyed the music.”

      “Oh yes. Don’t you think Mlle. Sczympliça plays beautifully?”

      “I saw that you thought so. She is able to bring an expression into your face that I have never seen there before.”

      Herbert looked at her quickly: he became quite red. “Yes.” he said, “she certainly plays most poetically. By the bye, I think Mr. Jack behaved very badly in publicly making game of Mr. Maclagan. Everyone in the room was disgusted.”

      Mary was ready to retort in defence of Jack; but before she could utter it Mrs Phipson came up, aggrieved and and speaking more loudly than was at all necessary. “Well, Mr Herbert,” she was saying, “you really have behaved most charmingly to us all the evening. I think we may go now, Mary. Josefs has gone; and Szczympliça is going, so there is really nothing to stay for. Why Adrian Herbert is gone again! How excessively odd!”

      “He is gone to get Mdlle Sczympliça’s carriage,” said Mary, quietly. “Be careful,” she added, in a lower tone: “Mdlle Sczympliça is close behind us.”

      “Indeed! And who is to get our carriage?” said Mrs Phipson, crossly, declining to abate her voice in the least. “Oh, really, Mary, you must speak to him about this. What is the use of your being his fiancée if he never does anything for you? He has behaved very badly. Mr Phipson is with that Frenchwoman who sang. He is only happy when he is running errands for celebrities. I suppose we must either take care of ourselves, or wait until Adrian condescends to come back for us.”

      “We had better not wait. I see Charlie in the next room: he will look after us. Come.”

      The Polish lady passed them, and followed her mother down the staircase. The cloak room was crowded; but Madame Sczympliça fought her way in, and presently returned with an armful of furs. She was assisted into some of these by her daughter, who was about to wrap herself in a cloak, when it was taken from her by Herbert.

      “Allow me,” he said, placing the cloak on her shoulders. “I must not delay you: your servant has brought up your carriage; but—”

      “Let us go quickly, my child,” said Madame. “They scream like devils for us. Au revoir, Monsieur Herbert. Come, Aurélie!”

      “Adieu,” said Aurélie, hurrying away. He kept beside her until she stepped into the carriage. “Certainly not adieu,” he said eagerly. “May I not come to see you, as we arranged?”

      “No,” she replied. “Your place is beside Miss Sutherland, your affianced. Adieu.” The carriage sped off; and he stood, gaping, until a footman reminded him that he was in the way of the next party. He then returned to the hall, where Mrs Phipson informed him coldly that she was sorry she could not offer him a seat in her carriage, as there was no room. So he bade them goodnight, and walked home.

      CHAPTER XI

       Table of Contents

      Every day, from ten in the forenoon to twelve, Mademoiselle Sczympliça practiced or neglected the pianoforte, according to her mood, whilst her mother discussed household matters with the landlady, and accompanied her to market. On the second morning after the conversazione, Madame went out as usual. No sooner had she disappeared in the direction of Tottenham Court Road than Adrian Herbert crossed from the opposite angle of the square, and knocked at the door of the house she had just left.

      Whilst he waited on the doorstep, he could hear the exercise Aurélie was playing within. It was a simple affair, such as he had often heard little girls call “five-finger” exercises; and was slowly and steadily continued as if the player never meant to stop. The door was opened by a young woman, who, not expecting visitors at that hour, and being in a slatternly condition, hid her hand in her apron when she saw Adrian.

      “Will you ask Miss Szczympliça whether she can see me, if you please.”

      The servant hesitated, and then went into the parlor, closing the door behind her. Presently she came out, and said with some embarrassment, “Maddim Chimpleetsa is not at home, sir.”

      “I know that,” said he. “Tell mademoiselle that I have a special reason for calling at this hour, and that I beg her to see me for a few moments.” He put his hand into his pocket for half-a-crown as he spoke; but the maid was gone before he had made up his mind to give it to her. Bribing a servant jarred his sense of honor.

      “If it’s very particular, madamazel says will you please to walk in,” said she, returning.

      Adrian followed her to the parlor, a СКАЧАТЬ