"Hallo!" Lucas greeted. "How do you feel? Fit?"
"Fit?" said George enthusiastically "I feel so fit I could push in the side of a house."
"What did I tell you?" said Lucas.
George rubbed his hand all over Lucas's hair, and Lucas thereupon seized George's other hand and twisted his arm, and a struggle followed. In this way they would often lovingly salute5 each other of a morning. Lucas had infected George with the craze for physical exercises as a remedy for all ills and indiscretions, including even late nights and excessive smoking. The competition between them to excel in the quality of fitness was acute, and sometimes led to strange challenges. After a little discussion about springing from the toes, Lucas now accused George's toes of a lack of muscularity, and upon George denying the charge, he asserted that George could not hang from the mantelpiece by his toes. They were both men of the world, capable of great heights of dignity, figures in an important business, aspirants to a supreme6 art and profession. They were at that moment in a beautiful late-eighteenth-century house of a stately and renowned7 square, and in a room whose proportions and ornament8 admittedly might serve as an exemplar to the student; and not the least lovely feature of the room was the high carved mantelpiece. The morning itself was historic, for it was the very morning upon which, President McKinley having expired, Theodore Roosevelt ascended9 the throne and inaugurated a new era. Nevertheless, such was their peculiar10 time of life that George, a minute later, was as a fact hanging by his toes from the mantelpiece, while Lucas urged him to keep the blood out of his head. George had stood on his hands on a box and lodged11 his toes on the mantelpiece, and then raised his hands—and Lucas had softly pushed the box away. George's watch was dangling12 against his flushed cheek.
"Put that box back, you cuckoo!" George exploded chokingly.
Then the door opened and Mr. Enwright appeared. Simultaneously13 some shillings slipped out of George's pocket and rolled about the floor. The hour was Mr. Enwright's customary hour of arrival, but he had no fair excuse for passing through that room instead of proceeding14 along the corridor direct to the principals' room. His aspect, as he gazed at George's hair and at the revealed sateen back of George's waistcoat, was unusual. Mr. Enwright commonly entered the office full of an intense and aggrieved15 consciousness of his own existence—of his insomnia16, of the reaction upon himself of some client's stupidity, of the necessity of going out again in order to have his chin lacerated by his favourite and hated Albanian barber. But now he had actually forgotten himself.
"What is this?" he demanded.
Lucas having quickly restored the box, George subsided17 dangerously thereon, and arose in a condition much disarrayed18 and confused, and beheld19 Mr. Enwright with shame.
"I—I was just looking to see if the trap of the chimney was shut," said George. It was foolish in the extreme, but it was the best he could do, and after all it was a rather marvellous invention. Lucas sat down and made no remark.
"You might respect the mantelpiece," said Mr. Enwright bitterly, and went into the principals' room, where John Orgreave could be heard dictating20 letters. George straightened his clothes and picked up his money, and the two men of the world giggled21 nervously22 at each other.
Mr. Haim next disturbed them. The shabby, respectable old man smiled vaguely23, with averted24 glance.
"I think he's heard the result," said he.
Both men knew that 'he' was Mr. Enwright, and that the 'result' was the result of the open competition for the £150,000 Law Courts which a proud provincial25 city proposed to erect26 for itself. The whole office had worked very hard on the drawings for that competition throughout the summer, while cursing the corporation which had chosen so unusual a date for sending-in day. Even Lucas had worked. George's ideas for certain details, upon which he had been engaged on the evening of his introduction to Mr. Haim's household, had been accepted by Mr. Enwright. As for Mr. Enwright, though the exigencies27 of his beard, and his regular morning habit of inveighing28 against the profession at great length, and his inability to decide where he should lunch, generally prevented him from beginning the day until three o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Enwright had given many highly concentrated hours of creative energy to the design. And Mr. Haim had adorned29 the sheets with the finest lettering. The design was held to be very good. The principals knew the identity of all the other chief competitors and their powers, and they knew also the idiosyncrasies of the Assessor; and their expert and impartial30 opinion was that the Lucas & Enwright design ought to win and would win. This view, indeed, was widespread in the arcana of the architectural world. George had gradually grown certain of victory. And yet, at Mr. Haim's words, his hopes sank horribly away.
"Have we won?" he asked sharply.
"That I can't say, Mr. Cannon," answered Haim.
"Well, then, how do you know he's heard? Has he told you?"
"No," said the factotum31 mysteriously. "But I think he's heard." And upon this Mr. Haim slouched off quite calmly. Often he had assisted at the advent32 of such vital news in the office—news obtained in advance by the principals through secret channels—and often the news had been bad. But the firm's calamities33 seemed never to affect the smoothness of Mr. Haim's earthly passage.
The door into the principals' room opened, and Mr. Enwright's head showed. The gloomy, resenting eyes fixed34 George for an instant.
"Well, you've lost that competition," said Mr. Enwright, and he stepped into full view. His unseen partner had ceased to dictate35, and the shorthand-clerk could be heard going out by the other door.
"No!" said George, in a long, outraged36 murmur38. The news seemed incredible and quite disastrous39; and yet at the same time had he not, in one unvisited corner of his mind, always foreknown it? Suddenly he was distressed40, discouraged, disillusioned41 about the whole of life. He thought that Everard Lucas, screwing up a compass, was strangely unmoved. But Mr. Enwright ignored Lucas.
"Who's got it?" George asked.
"Whinburn."
"That chap!... Where are we ?"
"Nowhere."
"Not placed?"
"Not in it. Skelting's second. And Grant third. I shouldn't have minded so much if Grant had got it. There was something to be said for his scheme. I knew we shouldn't get it. I knew that perfectly42 well—not with Corver assessing."
George wondered that his admired principal should thus state the exact opposite of what he had so often affirmed during the last few weeks. People were certainly very queer, even the best of them. The perception of this fact added to his puzzled woe43.
"Of course it is."
"Then why does Sir Hugh Corver go and give him the award? Surely he must know——"
"Know!" Mr. Enwright growled45, destroying Sir Hugh and his reputation and his pretensions46 with one single monosyllable.
"Then why did they make him Assessor—that's what I can't understand."
"It's quite simple," rasped Mr. Enwright. "They made him assessor because he's got so much work to do it takes him all his time to trot47 about from one job to another on his blooming pony48. They made him assessor because his pony's a piebald pony. Couldn't you think of that for yourself? Or have you been stone deaf in this office for two years? It stands to reason that a man who's responsible for all the largest new eyesores in London would impress any corporation. Clever chap, Corver! Instead of wasting his time in travel and study, he made a speciality of learning how to talk to committees. And he was always full of ideas like the piebald pony, ever since I knew him."
"It's that façade that did for us," broke in another voice. John Orgreave stood behind Mr. Enwright. He spoke49 easily; he was not ruffled50 by the immense disappointment, though the mournful greatness of the topic had drawn51 him irresistibly52 into the discussion. John Orgreave had grown rather fat and coarse. At one period, in the Five Towns, he had been George's hero. He was so no longer. George was still fond of him, but he had torn him down from the pedestal and established Mr. Enwright in his place. George in his heart now somewhat patronized the placid53 Orgreave, regarding him as an excellent person who comprehended naught54 that was worth comprehending, and as a husband who was the dupe of his wife.
"You couldn't have any other façade," Mr. Enwright turned on him, "unless you're absolutely going to ignore the market on the other side of the Square. Whinburn's façade is an outrage37—an outrage. Give me a cigarette. I must run out and get shaved."
While Mr. Enwright was lighting55 the cigarette, George reflected in desolation upon the slow evolving of the firm's design for the Law Courts. Again and again in the course of the work had he been struck into a worshipping enthusiasm by the brilliance56 of Mr. Enwright's invention and the happy beauty of his ideas. For George there was only one architect in the world; he was convinced that nobody could possibly rival Mr. Enwright, and that no Law Courts ever had been conceived equal to those Law Courts. And he himself had contributed something to the creation. He had dreamed of the building erected57 and of being able to stand in front of some detail of it and say to himself: "That was my notion, that was." And now the building was destroyed before its birth. It would never come into existence. It was wasted. And the prospect58 for the firm of several years' remunerative59 and satisfying labour had vanished. But the ridiculous, canny60 Whinburn would be profitably occupied, and his grotesque building would actually arise, and people would praise it, and it would survive for centuries—at any rate for a century.
Mr. Enwright did not move.
"It's no use regretting the façade, Orgreave," he said suddenly. "There's such a thing as self-respect."
"I don't see that self-respect's got much to do with it," Orgreave replied lightly.
("Of course you don't," George thought. "You're a decent sort, but you don't see, and you never will see. Even Lucas doesn't see. I alone see." And he felt savage61 and defiant62.)
"Better shove my self-respect away into this cupboard, I suppose!" said Mr. Enwright, with the most acrid63 cynicism, and he pulled open one door of a long, low cupboard whose top formed a table for portfolios64, dusty illustrated65 books, and other accumulations.
The gesture was dramatic, and none knew it better than Mr. Enwright. The cupboard was the cupboard which contained the skeleton. It was full of designs rejected in public competitions. There they lay, piles and piles of them, the earliest dating from the late seventies. The cupboard was crammed66 with the futility67 of Enwright's genius. It held monuments enough to make illustrious a score of cities. Lucas & Enwright was a successful firm. But, confining itself chiefly to large public works, it could not escape from the competition system; and it had lost in far more competitions than it had won. It was always, and always would be, at the mercy of an Assessor. The chances had always been, and always would be, against the acceptance of its designs, because they had the fatal quality of originality68 combined with modest adherence69 to the classical tradition. When they conquered, it was by sheer force. George glanced at the skeleton, and he was afraid. Something was very wrong with architecture. He agreed with Mr. Enwright's tiresomely70 reiterated71 axiom that it was the Cinderella of professions and the chosen field of ghastly injustice72. He had embraced architecture; he had determined73 to follow exactly in the footsteps of Mr. Enwright; he had sworn to succeed. But could he succeed? Suppose he failed! Yes, his faith faltered74. He was intensely, miserably75 afraid. He was the most serious man in Russell Square. Astounding76 that only a few minutes ago he had hung triumphantly77 by his feet from the mantelpiece!
Mr. Enwright kicked-to the door of the cupboard.
"Look here," he said to his partner, "I shan't be back just yet. I have to go and see Bentley. I'd forgotten it."
Nobody was surprised at this remark. Whenever Mr. Enwright was inconveniently78 set back he always went off to visit Bentley, the architect of the new Roman Catholic Cathedral at Westminster, on the plea of an urgent appointment.
" You had a look at the cathedral lately?" he demanded of George as he left.
"No, I haven't," said George, who, by reason of a series of unaccountable omissions79, and of the fullness of his life as an architect and a man of the world, had never seen the celebrated80 cathedral at all.
"Well," said Mr. Enwright sarcastically81, "better take just a glance at it—some time—before they've spoilt the thing with decorations. There's a whole lot of 'em only waiting till Bentley's out of the way to begin and ruin it."
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1
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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stylishness
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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5
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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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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renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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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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12
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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insomnia
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| n.失眠，失眠症 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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disarrayed
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| vt.使混乱（disarray的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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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dictating
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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21
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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25
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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exigencies
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| n.急切需要 | |
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inveighing
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| v.猛烈抨击，痛骂，谩骂( inveigh的现在分词 ) | |
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29
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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impartial
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| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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factotum
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| n.杂役；听差 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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calamities
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| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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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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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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39
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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40
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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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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43
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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44
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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45
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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46
pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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47
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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48
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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49
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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50
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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51
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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52
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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53
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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54
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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55
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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56
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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57
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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remunerative
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| adj.有报酬的 | |
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canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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61
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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62
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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portfolios
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| n.投资组合( portfolio的名词复数 )；（保险）业务量；（公司或机构提供的）系列产品；纸夹 | |
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65
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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66
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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67
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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adherence
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| n.信奉，依附，坚持，固着 | |
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70
tiresomely
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| adj. 令人厌倦的，讨厌的 | |
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71
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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73
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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74
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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75
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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76
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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77
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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78
inconveniently
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| ad.不方便地 | |
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79
omissions
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| n.省略( omission的名词复数 )；删节；遗漏；略去或漏掉的事（或人） | |
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80
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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81
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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