"You know, darling," she said, playful and serious, sitting on the edge of the desk by his side in a manner most unmatronly. "Either you eat to-morrow, or I shall have the doctor in. Oh! I shall have the doctor in! It's for you to decide, but I've made up my mind. You must admit——"
And then the shop door opened and someone entered. Violet sprang off the desk to the switches, illuminated7 the shop, and beheld8 Dr. Raste. Henry also beheld Dr.[Pg 183] Raste. Although a perfectly9 innocent woman, Violet's face at once changed to that of a wicked conspirator10 who has been caught in the act. Try as she would she could not get rid of that demeanour of guilt11, and the more she tried the less she succeeded. She dared not look at Henry. Certainly she could not murmur12 to Henry; "I swear to you I didn't send for him. His coming's just as much a surprise to me as it is to you." She thought: "This is that girl Elsie's doing." And she was angry and resentful against Elsie, and yet timorously13 glad that Elsie had been interfering14. What Henry was thinking no one could guess. Henry's mind to him a kingdom was, and a kingdom never invaded. All that could be positively15 stated of Henry was that the moment he recognized the doctor he rose vigorously from his chair and limped about with vivacity16 to prove that he was not an invalid17, or in any way in need of any doctor. And, strange to say, he really felt quite well. Dr. Raste startled Violet by offering to shake hands.
"Ha! How d'ye do, Mrs. Earlforward," said he, in his sprightly18, professional, high-voiced style. "Not seen you for a long time."
Violet recalled the Sunday morning in Riceyman Square when he had spoken to Henry on the pavement. She was happy then, and expectant of happiness. She was girlish then, exuberant20, dominating, self-willed, free. None could withstand her. A year ago! The change in twelve months suddenly presented itself to her with a sinister21 significance; but she imagined that the change was confined to her circumstances, and that an unchanged Violet had survived.
The doctor with his fresh eyes saw a shrunken woman, subject to some kind of neurosis which he could not diagnose. He greeted the oncoming Mr. Earlforward, and shook a hand of parchment. Mr. Earlforward's appearance indeed astonished him, and he said to himself that perhaps he had done well to call, and that anyhow Elsie had not exaggerated her report, Mr. Earlforward was worse than shrunken—he was emaci[Pg 184]ated; his jaws22 were hollowed, his little eyes had receded23, his complexion24 was greyish, his lips were pale and dry—the lower lip had lost its heavy fullness; his ears were nearly white. And there he was moving nervously25 about in the determination to be in excellent health in the presence of the doctor. Amazing, thought Dr. Raste, that Mrs. Earlforward had not summoned medical assistance weeks earlier! But then Mrs. Earlforward saw her husband every day and nearly all day. Amazing that no customer had dropped a word of alarm! But then Mr. Earlforwaid's amiable26 and bland27 relations with customers were not such as to permit any kind of intimacy. You got a certain distance with Mr. Earlforward, but you never got any further.
"You remember I bought a Shakspere here last year," Dr. Raste began cheerily, and somewhat loudly. (He often spoke19 more loudly than he need: result of imposing28 himself on the resistant29 stupidity of the proletariat.) Relief spread through the shop like a sweet odour. The professional man's visit was a pure coincidence after all. Violet ceased to look guilty. Henry ceased to ape the person of vigorous health.
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Earlforward; and to his wife: "Just reach down that 'Shakspere with Illustrations,' will you?"
"Shakspere with Illustrations" was the shop's title for the work (Valpy's edition of Shakspere's plays and poems), because these three words were the only words on the binding30.
"You don't mean to say you've not sold it yet—a year, isn't it?" cried Dr. Raste.
And Mr. Earlforward recalled from their previous interview in the shop an impression that the doctor was apt to be impudent31. What right had the man to express surprise at the work not having been sold? Mr. Earlforward had in stock books bought ten years ago, fifteen years ago.
"I could have sold it," said he. "But the truth is I've been keeping it for you. I felt sure you'd be looking[Pg 185] in one of these days. I meant to drop you a postcard to say I'd found it; but somehow——"
All this was true. For at least ten months Mr. Earlforward had intended to drop the postcard, and had never dropped it. Yet his conviction that one day he would drop it had remained fresh and strong throughout the period.
"Here! It's up in that corner, my dear," said Mr. Earlforward.
"Yes, I know. I'm just going to get the steps."
"Where are they? They ought to be here."
"I don't know. Elsie must have had them for her windows, and forgotten to bring them back."
"Shakspere's been having considerable success in my house," Dr. Raste went on, when the two men were alone, with an arch smile at his own phrasing. "You'd scarcely believe it, but my little daughter simply devours33 him. And as it's her birthday next week I thought I'd give her my Globe edition for herself, and get another one with a wee bit larger type for myself. My eyes aren't what they were.... Simply devours him! Scarcely believe it, would you?" The doctor was growing human. His eyes sparkled with ingenuous34 paternal35 pride. Then he checked himself.
"I notice your old clock isn't going," said he, in a more conventional, a conversation-making tone, and glanced at his wrist.
"No," Mr. Earlforward quietly admitted, thinking: "What's it got to do with you—my 'old clock' not going?" The clock had not gone for months.
Violet, who had further illuminated the shop as she passed out, was rather long in returning, partly because she had had to hunt for the steps, and partly because she had popped into the bedroom to see that it was in order. Dr. Raste gallantly36 took the volumes from her as she stood half-way up the steps.
"Fifteen volumes—that's right," said Mr. Earlforward. "I told you there were eight, didn't I?"[Pg 186]
"Did you?" said Dr. Raste, wondering at the bookseller's memory.
"Yes. I was mixing it up with another edition. Easy to make a mistake of that kind. Well, just look at it. Biography. Notes. Beautiful clear type. Nice, modest binding, in very good taste. Light and handy to hold. Clean as a pin. Nearly two hundred illustrations—from the Boydell edition. I told you Flaxman's illustrations, didn't I? Yes, I did. That was wrong. I somehow got the idea they were Flaxman's because they're in outline. But I see there's quite a selection of artists." He peered at the names engraved37 in microscopic38 characters under the illustrations, and passed on volume after volume to the prospective39 customer. "Pretty edition."
"I'm afraid it'll be too dear for my purse," said the doctor, affrighted by the thought of nearly two hundred illustrations from Boydell.
"Twenty-five shillings."
"I'd better take it," said the doctor, looking up from the books into Mr. Earlforward's little eyes; he was startled at the lowness of the price, and immediately counted out the money—two notes and two new half-crowns, which Mr. Earlforward gazed at passionately41, and in a bravura42 of self-control left lying on the desk.
"Make them up into two parcels, will you?" said the doctor. "I'll carry them home myself. I suppose you wouldn't be able to deliver to-night? Too late?"
"Yes. Too late to-night, I'm afraid," answered Mr. Earlforward calmly, well aware that he had long since ceased to deliver any goods under any circumstances. "My dear, some nice brown paper and string. Oh! The string's here, isn't it?" He bent43 down to a drawer of the desk, and drew out a tangle44 of all manner of pieces of string.
Violet now became important in the episode, and took[Pg 187] charge of the wrapping; her mien45 showed a conviction that she could make up a parcel as well as her husband.
"Hospitals are getting in a bad way," said Dr. Raste, and Mr. Earlforward thought to himself that the doctor was one of those distressing46 persons who from nervousness could not endure a silence.
"Yes?"
"Yes. Haven't you read about it in the papers?"
"Well, I may have seen something about it," said Mr. Earlforward. But he had not seen anything about it, nor did he care anything about it. He held the common view that hospitals were maintained by magic, or if not by magic, then by the cheques of millionaires in great houses in the West End who paid subscriptions47 as they paid their rates and taxes.
"Yes. The London Hospital—our largest hospital—unparalleled work in the East End, you know—the London's thinking of closing a hundred beds. A calamity48, but there seems to be no alternative. My wife's interesting herself in Lord Knutsford's special effort to save the beds; she used to be on the staff. I was just wondering whether you'd care to give me something for her list. ... I thought I might mention it—as I'm not here professionally. Here as a customer, you see." He gave one of his little, nervous laughs.
Mr. Earlforward perceived that the doctor had not been merely breaking a silence. He perceived also that Violet, mysteriously excited by the name of the legendary49 subscription-collecting peer who directed the London Hospital, was "willing" him to practise charity on this occasion. He keenly regretted, as the doctor developed his subject, that he had left the price of the Shakspere on the desk. There it lay, waiting to be given, asking to be given! There it lay and could not be ignored. The doctor was, of course, being impudent again; but there the money lay. Half a crown? Too little. Two half-crowns, those bright and lovely objects? Too little—or at any rate too little so long as the notes lay beside them. A note? Impossible! Fantastic! The situation was[Pg 188] desperate, and Mr. Earlforward in agony. He could not in decency50 refuse—he a Londoner, fond of London and its institutions—he an established tradesman; neither could he part with his money. He was about to martyrize51 himself; his hand, each finger separately suffering, hovered52 over one of the notes, when deliverance occurred to him.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said he, and picked up a thin, tattered53, quarto volume that was lying on the desk. "I'll make you a sporting offer. Here's one of the earliest collected editions of Gray's Poems."
"Yes. This is the Glasgow edition, and I can't remember now whether it or the London edition was the first—the first collected edition, I mean. They are both dated 1768. I'll give you this for your hospital. You take it to Sotherans or Bain, and see what it'll fetch."
The doctor opened the book.
"'Full many a flower is born to blush unseen
And waste its sweetness on the desart air.'"
he read. "Funny way of spelling 'desert,' a, r, t. But this is very interesting. 'Full many a flower——' So that's Gray, is it? Very interesting." He was quite uplifted by the sight of familiar words in an old book. "It's very clean inside. Suppose it's worth a lot of money. I'm sure you're very generous, very generous indeed." Violet paused in making up the second parcel.
"Well," said Mr. Earlforward, uplifted in his turn by reason of the epithet55 "generous" applied56 to him. "I don't know without inquiring just what it is worth. That's the sporting offer."
"I wouldn't mind giving a couple of pounds for it myself. I should like it.
"'Far from the madding crowd——,'
"Well, well! And one of the earlier editions, you say?"[Pg 189]
"Not earliest of the Elegy. Earliest of the collected poems."
"Just so! Just so! Two pounds a fair price?"
"I'm afraid it's worth more than that, at the worst," said Mr. Earlforward, suddenly grieved. He saw to what an extent he was making a fool of himself—losing pounds in order to save a ten-shilling note! Ridiculous! Idiotic57! Mad! True, he had bought the book for ten shillings, and he strove to regard the transaction from the angle of his own disbursement58. But he could not deny that he was losing pounds. Yes, pounds and pounds. Still, he could not have let the ten-shilling note go. A ten-shilling note was a treasure, whereas a book was only a book. Illogical, but instinct was more powerful than logic59.
"Ah!" said the doctor. "If it's worth more than two pounds I must sell it. You're generous. Mr. Earlforward, you're generous. Thank you."
Violet rearranged the second parcel, including the Gray in it, while Dr. Raste expanded further in gratitude60.
"That type won't strain anybody's eyes," Mr. Earlforward commented on the Gray as it disappeared within brown paper.
"No."
"I'm thankful to say my eyesight doesn't give me any trouble now."
"Um!" said the doctor, gazing at the bookseller, and taking the chance to feel his way towards the matter which had brought him into the shop. "I shouldn't say you were looking quite the man you were when I saw you last."
"No, he is not!" Violet put in eagerly.
"Oh! I'm all right," Mr. Earlforward, defending himself against yet another example of the doctor's impudence61. "All I want is more exercise, and I can't get that because of my knee, you know."
"Yes," said the doctor. "I've always noticed you limp. You ought to go to Barker. I shouldn't be surprised if he could put you right in ten minutes. Not a[Pg 190] qualified62 man, of course; but wonderful cures!... You might never limp again."
"But he charges very heavy, doesn't he? I've heard of fifty pounds."
"I don't know. Supposing he does? Well worth it, isn't it, to be cured? What's money?"
Mr. Earlforward made no reply to this silly question. Fifty pounds, or anything like it, for just pulling your knee about! "What was money," indeed! He seized the money on the table. The doctor understood himself to have been definitely repulsed63. Being a philosopher, he felt resigned. He had done what he could at an expense of twenty-five shillings. He lodged64 one of the parcels under his left arm and he took the other in his left hand and assumed a demeanour, compulsory65 in a gentleman, to indicate to the world that the parcels were entirely66 without weight, and that he was carrying them out of caprice and not from necessity.
"Here, doctor," Violet most unexpectedly exclaimed. "As you are here I think I'll consult you."
"Not about me! Not about me!" Mr. Earlforward protested plaintively67, imploringly68, and yet implacably.
Violet leaned over him with an endearment69.
"No, darling, not about you," she cooed. "About myself."
"I didn't know there was anything particular wrong with you."
"Didn't you?" said Violet in a strange tone at once dry and affectionate. "Elsie did. Will you come upstairs, doctor?" She was no longer the packer of books. She had initiative, authority, dominion70. Horribly suspecting her duplicity, Henry watched her leave the office in front of the doctor, who had set down his parcels. Never, never, would he have a doctor!
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1
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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conspirator
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| n.阴谋者，谋叛者 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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timorously
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| adv.胆怯地，羞怯地 | |
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interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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resistant
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| adj.(to)抵抗的，有抵抗力的 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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devours
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| 吞没( devour的第三人称单数 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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acolyte
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| n.助手，侍僧 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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bravura
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| n.华美的乐曲；勇敢大胆的表现；adj.壮勇华丽的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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subscriptions
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| n.（报刊等的）订阅费( subscription的名词复数 )；捐款；（俱乐部的）会员费；捐助 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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51
martyrize
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| v.使殉难，把…作牺牲，使受难n.殉难，成为烈士 | |
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52
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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elegy
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| n.哀歌，挽歌 | |
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epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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disbursement
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| n.支付，付款 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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60
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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64
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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65
compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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66
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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69
endearment
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| n.表示亲爱的行为 | |
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dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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