Henry was one of those men—and there exist, perhaps, more of them than may be imagined—who are capable of plunging3 off the roof of a house, and then reconsidering the enterprise and turning back. With Henry it was never too late for discretion4. He would stop and think at the most extraordinary moments. Thirty-six hours after the roseate evening at the Louvre and the Alhambra, just when he ought to have been laying a scheme for meeting Geraldine at once by sheer accident, Henry was coldly remarking to himself: 'Let me see exactly where I am. Let me survey the position.' He liked Geraldine, but now it was with a sober liking5, a liking which is not too excited to listen to Reason. And Reason said, after the position had been duly surveyed: 'I have nothing against this charming lady, and much in her favour. Nevertheless, there need be no hurry.' Geraldine wrote to thank Henry for the most enjoyable evening she had ever spent in her life, and Henry found the letter too effusive6. When they next saw each other, Henry meant to keep strictly7 private the advice which he had accepted from Reason; but Geraldine knew all about it within the first ten seconds, and Henry knew that she knew. Politeness reigned8, and the situation was felt to be difficult. Geraldine intended to be sisterly, but succeeded only in being resentful, and thus precipitated9 too soon the second stage of the entanglement10, the stage in which a man, after seeing everything in a woman, sees nothing in her; this second stage is usually of the briefest, but circumstances may render it permanent. Then Geraldine wrote again, and asked Henry to tea at the flat in Chenies Street on a Saturday afternoon. Henry went, and found the flat closed. He expected to receive a note of bewitching, cajoling, feminine apology, but he did not receive it. They met again, always at Kenilworth Mansions, and in an interview full of pain at the start and full of insincerity at the finish Henry learnt that Geraldine's invitation had been for Sunday, and not Saturday, that various people of much importance in her eyes had been asked to meet him, and that the company was deeply disappointed and the hostess humiliated11. Henry was certain that she had written Saturday. Geraldine was certain that he had misread the day. He said nothing about confronting her with the letter itself, but he determined12, in his masculine way, to do so. She gracefully13 pretended that the incident was closed, and amicably14 closed, but the silly little thing had got into her head the wild, inexcusable idea that Henry had stayed away from her 'at home' on purpose, and Henry felt this.
He rushed to Dawes Road to find the letter, but the letter was undiscoverable; with thespiteful waywardness which often characterizes such letters, it had disappeared. So Henry thought it would be as well to leave the incident alone. Their cheery politeness to each other when they chanced to meet was affecting to witness. As for Henry, he had always suspected in Geraldine the existence of some element, some quality, some factor, which was beyond his comprehension, and now his suspicions were confirmed.
He fell into a habit of saying, in his inmost heart: 'Women!'
This meant that he had learnt all that was knowable about them, and that they were all alike, and that—the third division of the meaning was somewhat vague.
Just as he was ascending15 with the beautiful flunkey in the Kenilworth lift, a middle-aged16 and magnificently-dressed woman hastened into the marble hall from the street, and, seeing the lift in the act of vanishing with its precious burden, gave a slight scream and then a laugh. The beautiful flunkey permitted himself a derisive17 gesture, such as one male may make to another, and sped the lift more quickly upwards18.
'Who's she?' Henry demanded.
'I don't know, sir,' said the flunkey. 'But you'll hear her ting-tinging at the bell in half a second. There!' he added in triumphant19 disgust, as the lift-bell rang impatiently. 'There's some people,' he remarked, 'as thinks a lift can go up and down at once.'
Geraldine with a few bright and pleasant remarks ushered20 Henry directly into the presence of Mark Snyder. Her companion was not in the office.
'Anything wrong?' Henry asked.
In his letters Mr. Snyder always referred to A Question of Cubits as the Q. C.
'What on earth for?' exclaimed Henry.
He was not pleased. In strict truth, no one of his innumerable admirers was more keenly anxious for the appearance of that book than Henry himself. His appetite for notoriety and boom grew by what it fed on. He expected something colossal23, and he expected it soon.
'Both in England and America,' said Snyder.
'But why?'
'Serial24 rights,' said Snyder impressively. 'I told you some time since I might have a surprise for you, and I've got one. I fancied I might sell the serial rights in England to Macalistairs, at my own price, but they thought the end was too sad. However, I've done business in New York with Gordon's Weekly. They'll issue the Q. C. in four instalments. It was really settled last week, but I had to arrange with Spring Onions. They've paid cash. I made 'em. How much d'you think?'
'I don't know,' Henry said expectantly.
'Guess,' Mark Snyder commanded him.
But Henry would not guess, and Snyder rang the bell for Geraldine.
'Miss Foster,' he addressed the puzzling creature in a casual tone, 'did you draw that cheque for Mr. Knight25?'
'Yes, Mr. Snyder.'
'Bring it me, please.'
And she respectfully brought in a cheque, which Mr. Snyder signed.
'There!' said he, handing it to Henry. 'What do you think of that?'
It was a cheque for one thousand and eighty pounds. Gordon and Brothers, the greatest publishing firm of the United States, had paid six thousand dollars for the right to publish serially26 A Question of Cubits, and Mark Snyder's well-earned commission on the transaction amounted to six hundred dollars.
'It's nearly a record price,' said Snyder complacently29. 'But you're a sort of a record man. And when they believe in a thing over there, they aren't afraid of making money talk and say so.'
'Nay30, nay!' thought Henry. 'This is too much! This beats everything! Either I shall wake up soon or I shall find myself in a lunatic asylum31.' He was curiously32 reminded of the conjuring33 performance at the Alhambra.
He said:
'That's all I have to say to you,' said Mark Snyder pawkily.
Henry wanted to breathe instantly the ampler ether of the street, but on his way out he found Geraldine in rapid converse36 with the middle-aged and magnificently-dressed woman who thought that a lift could go up and down at once. They became silent.
'Good-morning, Miss Foster,' said Henry hurriedly.
Then a pause occurred, very brief but uncomfortable, and the stranger glanced in the direction of the window.
'Let me introduce you to Mrs. Ashton Portway,' said Geraldine. 'Mrs. Portway, Mr. Knight.'
'So glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Knight!' she burst out loudly and uncontrollably, as though Geraldine's magic formula had loosened a valve capable of withstanding enormous strains. Then she smiled, laughed, and sniggered: not because she imagined that she had achieved humour, but because that was her way of making herself agreeable. If anybody had told her that she could not open her mouth without sniggering, she would have indignantly disbelieved the statement. Nevertheless it was true. When she said the weather was changeable, she sniggered; when she hoped you were quite well, she sniggered; and if circumstances had required her to say that she was sorry to hear of the death of your mother, she would have sniggered.
Henry, however, unaccustomed to the phenomena38 accompanying her speech, mistook her at first for a woman determined to be witty39 at any cost.
'I was desolated41, simply desolated, not to see you at Miss Foster's "at home,"' Mrs. Ashton Portway was presently sniggering. 'Now, will you come to one of my Wednesdays? They begin in November. First and third. I always try to get interesting people, people who have done something.'
'Of course I shall be delighted,' Henry agreed. He was in a mood to scatter42 largesse43 among the crowd.
'That's so good of you,' said Mrs. Ashton Portway, apparently44 overcome by the merry jest. 'Now remember, I shall hold you to your promise. I shall write and remind you. I know you great men.'
When Henry reached the staircase he discovered her card in his hand. He could not have explained how it came there. Without the portals of Kenilworth Mansions a pair of fine horses were protesting against the bearing-rein, and throwing spume across the street.
He walked straight up to the Louvre, and there lunched to the sound of wild Hungarian music. It was nearly three o'clock when he returned to his seat at Powells.
'The governor's pretty nearly breaking up the happy home,' Foxall alarmingly greeted him in the inquiry45 office.
'Oh!' said Henry with a very passable imitation of guilelessness. 'What's amiss?'
'He rang for you just after you went out at a quarter-past twelve.' Here Foxall glanced mischievously46 at the clock. 'He had his lunch sent in, and he's been raving47 ever since.'
'What did you tell him?'
'I told him you'd gone to lunch.'
'Did he say anything?'
'He asked whether you'd gone to Brighton for lunch. Krikey! He nearly sacked me! You know it's his golfing afternoon.'
'So it is. I'd forgotten,' Henry observed calmly.
Then he removed his hat and gloves, found his note-book and pencil, and strode forward to joust48 with the knight.
The knight was taken aback.
'I had some urgent private business to attend to,' said Henry. 'And I've been to lunch. I went out at a quarter-past twelve.'
'And it's now three o'clock. Why didn't you tell me you were going out?'
'Because you were engaged, Sir George.'
'Listen to me,' said Sir George. 'You've been getting above yourself lately, my friend. And I won't have it. Understand, I will not have it. The rules of this office apply just as much to you as to anyone.'
'I'm sorry,' Henry put in coldly, 'if I've put you to any inconvenience.'
'Sorry be d——d, sir!' exclaimed Sir George.
'Where on earth do you go for your lunch?'
'That concerns no one but me, Sir George,' was the reply.
He would have given a five-pound note to know that Foxall and the entire staff were listening behind the door.
'If you think so, Sir George,' said Henry, 'I resign my position here.'
'And a fool!' the knight added.
'And did you say anything about the thousand pounds?' Aunt Annie asked, when, in the evening domesticity of Dawes Road, Henry recounted the doings of that day so full of emotions.
'Not I!' Henry replied. 'Not a word!'
'You did quite right, my dear!' said Aunt Annie. 'A pretty thing, that you can't go out for a few minutes!'
'Yes, isn't it?' said Henry.
'Whatever will Sir George do without you, though?' his mother wondered.
And later, after he had displayed for her inspection52 the cheque for a thousand and eighty pounds, the old lady cried, with moist eyes:
'My darling, your poor father might well insist on having you called Shakspere! And to think that I didn't want it! To think that I didn't want it!'
'Mark my words!' said Aunt Annie. 'Sir George will ask you to stay on.'
And Aunt Annie was not deceived.
'I hope you've come to your senses,' the lawyer began early the next morning, not unkindly, but rather with an intention obviously pacific. 'Literature, or whatever you call it, may be all very well, but you won't get another place like this in a hurry. There's many an admitted solicitor earns less than you, young man.'
'Thanks very much, Sir George,' Henry answered. 'But I think, on the whole, I had better leave.'
'As you wish,' said Sir George, hurt.
'Still,' Henry proceeded, 'I hope our relations will remain pleasant. I hope I may continue to employ you.'
'Yes,' said Henry. 'I got you to invest some moneys for me some time ago. I have another thousand now that I want a sound security for.'
It was one of those rare flashes of his—rare, but blindingly brilliant.
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1
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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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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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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effusive
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| adj.热情洋溢的；感情(过多)流露的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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amicably
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| adv.友善地 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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serial
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| n.连本影片，连本电视节目；adj.连续的 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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serially
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| adv.连续地，连续刊载地 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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grandiose
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| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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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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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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largesse
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| n.慷慨援助，施舍 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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47
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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48
joust
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| v.马上长枪比武，竞争 | |
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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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50
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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51
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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52
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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53
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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