There had been four inquests, all upon the bodies of air-raid victims: a road-man, his wife, an orphan3 baby—all belonging to the thick central mass of the proletariat, for a West End slum had received a bomb full in the face—and Lady Queenie Paulle. The policemen were stolid2; the reporters were stolid; the proletariat was stolid; the majority of the witnesses were stolid, and in particular the representatives of various philanthropic agencies who gave the most minute evidence about the habits and circumstances of the slum; and the jurymen were very stolid, and never more so than when, with stubby fingers holding ancient pens, they had to sign quantities of blue forms under the strict guidance of a bareheaded policeman.
The world of Queenie's acquaintances made a strange, vivid contrast to this grey, grim, blockish world; and the two worlds regarded each other with the wonder and the suspicious resentment5 of foreigners. Queen's world came expecting to behave as at a cause célèbre of, for example, divorce. Its representatives were quite ready to tolerate unpleasing contacts and long stretches of tedium6 in return for some glimpse of the squalid and the privilege of being able to say that they had been present at the inquest. But most of them had arrived rather late, and they had reckoned without the Coroner, and comparatively few obtained even admittance.
The Coroner had arrived on the stroke of the hour, in a silk hat and frock coat, with a black bag, and had sat down at his desk and begun to rule the proceedings7 with an absolutism that no High Court Judge would have attempted. He was autocrat8 in a small, close, sordid9 room; but he was autocrat. He had already shown his quality in some indirect collisions with the Marquis of Lechford. The Marquis felt that he could not stomach the exposure of his daughter's corpse10 in a common mortuary with other corpses12 of he knew not whom. Long experience of the marquisate had taught him to believe that everything could be arranged. He found, however, that this matter could not be arranged. There was no appeal from the ukase of the Coroner. Then he wished to be excused from giving evidence, since his evidence could have no direct bearing on the death. But he was informed by a mere13 clerk, who had knowledge of the Coroner's ways, that if he did not attend the inquest would probably be adjourned14 for his attendance. The fact was, the Coroner had appreciated as well as anybody that heaven and the war had sent him a cause célèbre of the first-class. He saw himself the supreme15 being of a unique assize. He saw his remarks reproduced verbatim in the papers, for, though localities might not be mentioned, there was no censor's ban upon the obiter dicta of coroners. His idiosyncrasy was that he hid all his enjoyment16 in his own breast. Even had he had the use of a bench, instead of a mere chair, he would never have allowed titled ladies in mirific black hats to share it with him. He was an icy radical17, sincere, competent, conscientious18 and vain. He would be no respecter of persons, but he was a disrespecter of persons above a certain social rank. He said, "Open that window." And that window was opened, regardless of the identity of the person who might be sitting under it. He said: "This court is unhealthily full. Admit no more." And no more could be admitted, though the entire peerage waited without.
The Marquis had considered that the inquest on his daughter might be taken first. The other three cases were taken first, and, even taken concurrently19, they occupied an immense period of time. All the bodies were, of course, "viewed" together, and the absence of the jury seemed to the Marquis interminable; he thought the despicable tradesmen were gloating unduly20 over the damaged face of his daughter. The Coroner had been marvellously courteous21 to the procession of humble22 witnesses. He could not have been more courteous to the exalted23; and he was not. In the sight of the Coroner all men were equal.
G.J. encountered him first. "I did my best to persuade her ladyship to come down," said G.J. very formally. "I am quite sure you did," said the Coroner with the dryest politeness. "And you failed." The policeman had related events from the moment when G.J. had fetched him in from the street. The policeman could remember everything, what everybody had said, the positions of all objects, the characteristics and extent of the wire-netting, the exact posture24 of the deceased girl, the exact minute of his visit. He and the Coroner played to each other like well-rehearsed actors. Mrs. Carlos Smith's ordeal25 was very brief, and the Coroner dismissed her with an expression of sympathy that seemed to issue from his mouth like carved granite26. With the doctor alone the Coroner had become human; the Coroner also was a doctor. The doctor had talked about a relatively27 slight extravasation of blood, and said that death had been instantaneous. Said the Coroner: "The body was found on the wire-netting; it had fallen from the chimney. In your opinion, was the fall a contributory cause of death?" The doctor said, No. "In your opinion death was due to an extremely small piece of shrapnel which struck the deceased's head slightly above the left ear, entering the brain?" The doctor said, Yes.
The Marquis of Lechford had to answer questions as to his parental28 relations with his daughter. How long had he been away in the country? How long had the deceased been living in Lechford House practically alone? How old was his daughter? Had he given any order to the effect that nobody was to be on the roof of his house during an air-raid? Had he given any orders at all as to conduct during an air-raid? The Coroner sympathised deeply with his lordship's position, and felt sure that his lordship understood that; but his lordship would also understand that the policy of heads of households in regard to air-raids had more than a domestic interest—it had, one might say, a national interest; and the force of prominent example was one of the forces upon which the Government counted, and had the right to count, for help in the regulation of public conduct in these great crises of the most gigantic war that the world had ever seen. "Now, as to the wire-netting," had said the Coroner, leaving the subject of the force of example. He had a perfect plan of the wire-netting in his mind. He understood that the chimney-stack rose higher than the wire-netting, and that the wire-netting went round the chimney-stack at a distance of a foot or more, leaving room so that a person might climb up the perpendicular29 ladder. If a person fell from the top of the chimney-stack it was a chance whether that person fell on the wire-netting, or through the space between the wire-netting and the chimney on to the roof itself. The jury doubtless understood. (The jury, however, at that instant had been engaged in examining the bit of shrapnel which had been extracted from the brain of the only daughter of a Marquis.) The Coroner understood that the wire-netting did not extend over the whole of the house. "It extends over all the main part of the house," his lordship had replied. "But not over the back part of the house?" His lordship agreed. "The servants' quarters, probably?" His lordship nodded. The Coroner had said: "The wire-netting does not extend over the servants' quarters," in a very even voice. A faint hiss30 in court had been extinguished by the sharp glare of the Coroner's eyes. His lordship, a thin, antique figure, in a long cloak that none but himself would have ventured to wear, had stepped down, helpless.
There had been much signing of depositions31. The Coroner had spoken of The Hague Convention, mentioning one article by its number. The jury as to the first three cases—in which the victims had been killed by bombs—had returned a verdict of wilful33 murder against the Kaiser. The Coroner, suppressing the applause, had agreed heartily34 with the verdict. He told the jury that the fourth case was different, and the jury returned a verdict of death from shrapnel. They gave their sympathy to all the relatives, and added a rider about the inadvisability of running unnecessary risks, and the Coroner, once more agreeing heartily, had thereon made an effective little speech to a hushed, assenting35 audience.
There were several motor-cars outside. G.J. signalled across the street to the taxi-man who telephoned every morning to him for orders. He had never owned a motor-car, and, because he had no ambition to drive himself, had never felt the desire to own one. The taxi-man experienced some delay in starting his engine. G.J. lit a cigarette. Concepcion came out, alone. He had expected her to be with the Marquis, with whom she had arrived. She was dressed in mourning. Only on that day, and once before—on the day of her husband's funeral—had he seen her in mourning. She looked now like the widow she was.
Nevertheless, he had not quite accustomed himself to the sight of her in mourning.
"I wonder whether I can get a taxi?" she asked.
"You can have mine," said he. "Where do you want to go?"
She named a disconcerting address near Shepherd's Market.
At that moment a Pressman with a camera came boldly up and snapped her. The man had the brazen36 demeanour of a racecourse tout37. But Concepcion seemed not to mind at all, and G.J. remembered that she was deeply inured38 to publicity39. Her portrait had already appeared in the picture papers along with that of Queen, but the papers had deemed it necessary to remind a forgetful public that Mrs. Carlos Smith was the same lady as the super-celebrated Concepcion Iquist. The taxi-man hesitated for an instant on hearing the address, but only for an instant. He had earned the esteem40 and regular patronage41 of G.J. by a curious hazard. One night G.J. had hailed him, and the man had said in a flash, without waiting for the fare to speak, "The Albany, isn't it, sir? I drove you home about two months ago." Thenceforward he had been for G.J. the perfect taxi-man.
In the taxi Concepcion said not a word, and G.J. did not disturb her. Beneath his superficial melancholy42 he was sustained by the mere joy of being alive. The common phenomena43 of the streets were beautiful to him. Concepcion's calm and grieved vitality44 seemed mysteriously exquisite45. He had had similar sensations while walking along Coventry Street after his escape from the explosion of the bomb. Fatigue46 and annoyance47 and sorrow had extinguished them for a time, but now that the episode of Queen's tragedy was closed they were born anew. Queen, the pathetic victim of the indiscipline of her own impulses, was gone. But he had escaped. He lived. And life was an affair miraculous48 and lovely.
"I think I've been here before," said he, when they got out of the taxi in a short, untidy, indeterminate street that was a cul-de-sac. The prospect49 ended in a garage, near which two women chauffeurs50 were discussing a topic that interested them. A hurdy-gurdy was playing close by, and a few ragged51 children stared at the hurdy-gurdy, on the end of which a baby was cradled. The fact that the street was midway between Curzon Street and Piccadilly, and almost within sight of the monumental new mansion52 of an American duchess, explained the existence of the building in front of which the taxi had stopped. The entrance to the flats was mean and soiled. It repelled53, but Concepcion unapologetically led G.J. up a flight of four stone steps and round a curve into a little corridor. She halted at a door on the ground floor.
"Yes," said G.J. with admirable calm, "I do believe you've got the very flat I once looked at with a friend of mine. If I remember it didn't fill the bill because the tenant54 wouldn't sub-let it unfurnished. When did you get hold of this?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Concepcion answered. "Quick work. But these feats55 can be accomplished56. I've only taken it for a month. Hotels seem to be all full. I couldn't open my own place at a moment's notice, and I didn't mean to stay on at Lechford House, even if they'd asked me to."
G.J.'s notion of the vastness and safety of London had received a shock. He was now a very busy man, and would quite sincerely have told anybody who questioned him on the point that he hadn't a moment to call his own. Nevertheless, on the previous morning he had spent a considerable time in searching for a nest in which to hide his Christine and create romance; and he had come to this very flat. More, there had been two flats to let in the block. He had declined them—the better one because of the furniture, the worse because it was impossibly small, and both because of the propinquity of the garage. But supposing that he had taken one and Concepcion the other! He recoiled57 at the thought....
Concepcion's new home, if not impossibly small, was small, and the immensity and abundance of the furniture made it seem smaller than it actually was. Each little room had the air of having been furnished out of a huge and expensive second-hand58 emporium. No single style prevailed. There were big carved and inlaid antique cabinets and chests, big hanging crystal candelabra, and big pictures (some of them apparently59 family portraits, the rest eighteenth-century flower-pieces) in big gilt60 frames, with a multiplicity of occasional tables and bric-à-brac. Gilt predominated. The ornate cornices were gilded61. Human beings had to move about like dwarfs62 on the tiny free spaces of carpet between frowning cabinetry. The taste and the aim of the author of this home defied deduction63. In the first room a charwoman was cleaning. Concepcion greeted her like a sister. In the next room, whose window gave on to a blank wall, tea was laid for one in front of a gas-fire. Concepcion reached down a cup and saucer from a glazed64 cupboard and put a match to the spirit-lamp under the kettle.
"Let me see, the bedroom's up here, isn't it?" said G.J., pointing along a passage that was like a tunnel.
Concepcion, yielding to his curiosity, turned on lights everywhere and preceded him. The passage, hung with massive canvases, had scarcely more than width enough for G.J.'s shoulders. The tiny bedroom was muslined in every conceivable manner. It had a colossal65 bed, surpassing even Christine's. A muslined maid was bending over some drapery-shop boxes on the floor and removing garments therefrom. Concepcion greeted her like a sister. "Don't let me disturb you, Emily," she said, and to G.J., "Emily was poor Queenie's maid, and she has come to me for a little while." G.J. amicably66 nodded. Tears came suddenly into the maid's eyes. G.J. looked away and saw the bathroom, which, also well muslined, was completely open to the bedroom.
"Whose is this marvellous home?" he added when they had gone back to the drawing-room.
"How simple the explanation is!" said G.J. "But I should never have guessed it."
They started the tea in a strange silence. After a minute or two G.J. said:
"I mustn't stay long."
"Neither must I." Concepcion smiled.
"Got to go out?"
"Yes."
There was another silence. Then Concepcion said:
"I'm going to Sarah Churcher's. And as I know she has her Pageant68 Committee at five-thirty, I'd better not arrive later than five, had I?"
"What is there between you and Lady Churcher?"
"Well, I'm going to offer to take Queen's place on the organising Committee."
In an instant the atmosphere of the little airless, electric-lit, gas-fumed apartment was charged with a fluid that no physical chemistry could have traced. Concepcion said mildly:
"I am. I owe it to Queen's memory to take her place if I can. Of course I'm no dancer, but in other things I expect I can make myself useful."
G.J. replied with equal mildness:
"You aren't going to mix yourself up with that crowd again—after all you've been through! The Pageant business isn't good enough for you, Con, and you know it. You know it's odious70."
She murmured:
"I feel it's my duty. I feel I owe it to Queen. It's a sort of religion with me, I expect. Each person has his own religion, and I doubt if one's more dogmatic than another."
He was grieved; he had a sense almost of outrage71. He hated to picture Concepcion subduing72 herself to the horrible environment of the Pageant enterprise. But he said nothing more. The silence resumed. They might have conversed73, with care, about the inquest, or about the funeral, which was to take place at the Castle, in Cheshire. Silence, however, suited them best.
"Also I thought you needed repose," said G.J. when Concepcion broke the melancholy enchantment74 by rising to look for cigarettes.
"I must be allowed to work," she answered after a pause, putting a cigarette between her teeth. "I must have something to do—unless, of course, you want me to go to the bad altogether."
It was a remarkable75 saying, but it seemed to admit that he was legitimately76 entitled to his critical interest in her.
"If I'd known that," he said, suddenly inspired, "I should have asked you to take on something for me." He waited; she made no response, and he continued: "I'm secretary of my small affair since yesterday. The paid secretary, a nice enough little thing, has just run off to the Women's Auxiliary77 Corps11 in France and left me utterly78 in the lurch79. Just like domestic servants, these earnest girl-clerks are, when it comes to the point! No imagination. Wanted to wear khaki, and no doubt thought she was doing a splendid thing. Never occurred to her the mess I should be in. I'd have asked you to step into the breach80. You'd have been frightfully useful."
"But I'm no girl-clerk," Concepcion gently and carelessly protested.
"Well, she wasn't either. I shouldn't have wanted you to be a typist. We have a typist. As a matter of fact, her job needed a bit more brains than she'd got. However—"
Another silence. G.J. rose to depart. Concepcion did not stir. She said softly:
"I don't think anybody realises what Queen's death is to me. Not even you." On her face was the look of sacrifice which G.J. had seen there as they talked together in Queen's boudoir during the raid.
He thought, amazed:
"And they'd only had about twenty-four hours together, and part of that must have been spent in making up their quarrel!"
Then aloud:
"I quite agree. People can't realise what they haven't had to go through. I've understood that ever since I read in the paper the day before yesterday that 'two bombs fell close together and one immediately after the other' in a certain quarter of the West End. That was all the paper said about those two bombs."
"Why! What do you mean?"
"And I understood it when poor old Queen gave me some similar information on the roof."
"What do you mean?"
"I was between those two bombs when they fell. One of 'em blew me against a house. I've been to look at the place since. And I'm dashed if I myself could realise then what I'd been through."
She gave a little cry. Her face pleased him.
"And you weren't hurt?"
"I had a pain in my side, but it's gone," he said laconically81.
"And you never said anything to us! Why not?"
"Well—there were so many other things...."
"G.J., you're astounding82!"
"No, I'm not. I'm just myself."
"And hasn't it upset your nerves?"
"Not as far as I can judge. Of course one never knows, but I think not. What do you think?"
"You remember that night I said it was a message direct from Potsdam? Well, naturally it wasn't. But do you know the thought that tortures me? Supposing the shrapnel that killed Queen was out of a shell made at my place in Glasgow!... It might have been.... Supposing it was!"
"Con," he said firmly, "I simply won't listen to that kind of talk. There's no excuse for it. Shall I tell you what, more than anything else, has made me respect you since Queen was killed? Ninety-nine women out of a hundred would have managed to remind me, quite illogically and quite inexcusably, that I was saying hard things about poor old Queen at the very moment when she was lying dead on the roof. You didn't. You knew I was very sorry about Queen, but you knew that my feelings as to her death had nothing whatever to do with what I happened to be saying when she was killed. You knew the difference between sentiment and sentimentality. For God's sake, don't start wondering where the shell was made."
She looked up at him, saying nothing, and he savoured the intelligence of her weary, fine, alert, comprehending face. He did not pretend to himself to be able to fathom83 the enigmas84 of that long glance. He had again the feeling of the splendour of what it was to be alive, to have survived. Just as he was leaving she said casually85:
"Very well. I'll do what you want."
"What I want?"
"I won't go to Sarah Churcher's."
"You mean you'll come as assistant secretary?"
She nodded. "Only I don't need to be paid."
And he, too, fell into a casual tone:
"That's excellent."
Thus, by this nonchalance86, they conspired87 to hide from themselves the seriousness of that which had passed between them. The grotesque88, pretentious89 little apartment was mysteriously humanised; it was no longer the reception-room of a furnished flat by chance hired for a month; they had lived in it.
She finished, eagerly smiling:
"I can practise my religion just as much with you as with Sarah Churcher, can't I? Queen was on your committee, too. Yes, I shan't be deserting her."
The remark disquieted90 his triumph. That aspect of the matter had not occurred to him.
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1
stolidity
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| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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concurrently
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| adv.同时地 | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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depositions
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| 沉积（物）( deposition的名词复数 )； （在法庭上的）宣誓作证； 处置； 罢免 | |
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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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wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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assenting
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| 同意，赞成( assent的现在分词 ) | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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chauffeurs
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| n.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的名词复数 ) | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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dwarfs
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| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
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deduction
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| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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amicably
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| adv.友善地 | |
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interned
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| v.拘留，关押( intern的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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subduing
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| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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legitimately
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| ad.合法地；正当地，合理地 | |
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auxiliary
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| adj.辅助的，备用的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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laconically
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| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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enigmas
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| n.难于理解的问题、人、物、情况等，奥秘( enigma的名词复数 ) | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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