in the cage-第6部分
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〃In seeing them?〃 At this the girl suddenly let herself go。 〃I
hate them。 There's that charm!〃
Mrs。 Jordan gaped again。 〃The REAL 'smarts'?〃
〃Is that what you call Mrs。 Bubb? Yesit comes to me; I've had
Mrs。 Bubb。 I don't think she has been in herself; but there are
things her maid has brought。 Well; my dear!〃and the young person
from Cocker's; recalling these things and summing them up; seemed
suddenly to have much to say。 She didn't say it; however; she
checked it; she only brought out: 〃Her maid; who's horridSHE
must have her!〃 Then she went on with indifference: 〃They're TOO
real! They're selfish brutes。〃
Mrs。 Jordan; turning it over; adopted at last the plan of treating
it with a smile。 She wished to be liberal。 〃Well; of course; they
do lay it out。〃
〃They bore me to death;〃 her companion pursued with slightly more
temperance。
But this was going too far。 〃Ah that's because you've no
sympathy!〃
The girl gave an ironic laugh; only retorting that nobody could
have any who had to count all day all the words in the dictionary;
a contention Mrs。 Jordan quite granted; the more that she shuddered
at the notion of ever failing of the very gift to which she owed
the voguethe rage she might call itthat had caught her up。
Without sympathyor without imagination; for it came back again to
thathow should she get; for big dinners; down the middle and
toward the far corners at all? It wasn't the combinations; which
were easily managed: the strain was over the ineffable
simplicities; those that the bachelors above all; and Lord Rye
perhaps most of any; threw offjust blew off like cigarette…puffs…
…such sketches of。 The betrothed of Mr。 Mudge at all events
accepted the explanation; which had the effect; as almost any turn
of their talk was now apt to have; of bringing her round to the
terrific question of that gentleman。 She was tormented with the
desire to get out of Mrs。 Jordan; on this subject; what she was
sure was at the back of Mrs。 Jordan's head; and to get it out of
her; queerly enough; if only to vent a certain irritation at it。
She knew that what her friend would already have risked if she
hadn't been timid and tortuous was: 〃Give him upyes; give him
up: you'll see that with your sure chances you'll be able to do
much better。〃
Our young woman had a sense that if that view could only be put
before her with a particular sniff for poor Mr。 Mudge she should
hate it as much as she morally ought。 She was conscious of not; as
yet; hating it quite so much as that。 But she saw that Mrs。 Jordan
was conscious of something too; and that there was a degree of
confidence she was waiting little by little to arrive at。 The day
came when the girl caught a glimpse of what was still wanting to
make her friend feel strong; which was nothing less than the
prospect of being able to announce the climax of sundry private
dreams。 The associate of the aristocracy had personal
calculationsmatter for brooding and dreaming; even for peeping
out not quite hopelessly from behind the window…curtains of lonely
lodgings。 If she did the flowers for the bachelors; in short;
didn't she expect that to have consequences very different from
such an outlook at Cocker's as she had pronounced wholly desperate?
There seemed in very truth something auspicious in the mixture of
bachelors and flowers; though; when looked hard in the eye; Mrs。
Jordan was not quite prepared to say she had expected a positive
proposal from Lord Rye to pop out of it。 Our young woman arrived
at last; none the less; at a definite vision of what was in her
mind。 This was a vivid foreknowledge that the betrothed of Mr。
Mudge would; unless conciliated in advance by a successful rescue;
almost hate her on the day she should break a particular piece of
news。 How could that unfortunate otherwise endure to hear of what;
under the protection of Lady Ventnor; was after all so possible
CHAPTER IX
Meanwhile; since irritation sometimes relieved her; the betrothed
of Mr。 Mudge found herself indebted to that admirer for amounts of
it perfectly proportioned to her fidelity。 She always walked with
him on Sundays; usually in the Regent's Park; and quite often; once
or twice a month he took her; in the Strand or thereabouts; to see
a piece that was having a run。 The productions he always preferred
were the really good onesShakespeare; Thompson or some funny
American thing; which; as it also happened that she hated vulgar
plays; gave him ground for what was almost the fondest of his
approaches; the theory that their tastes were; blissfully; just the
same。 He was for ever reminding her of that; rejoicing over it and
being affectionate and wise about it。 There were times when she
wondered how in the world she could 〃put up with〃 him; how she
could put up with any man so smugly unconscious of the immensity of
her difference。 It was just for this difference that; if she was
to be liked at all; she wanted to be liked; and if that was not the
source of Mr。 Mudge's admiration; she asked herself what on earth
COULD be? She was not different only at one point; she was
different all round; unless perhaps indeed in being practically
human; which her mind just barely recognised that he also was。 She
would have made tremendous concessions in other quarters: there
was no limit for instance to those she would have made to Captain
Everard; but what I have named was the most she was prepared to do
for Mr。 Mudge。 It was because HE was different that; in the oddest
way; she liked as well as deplored him; which was after all a proof
that the disparity; should they frankly recognise it; wouldn't
necessarily be fatal。 She felt that; oleaginoustoo oleaginous
as he was; he was somehow comparatively primitive: she had once;
during the portion of his time at Cocker's that had overlapped her
own; seen him collar a drunken soldier; a big violent man who;
having come in with a mate to get a postal…order cashed; had made a
grab at the money before his friend could reach it and had so
determined; among the hams and cheeses and the lodgers from
Thrupp's; immediate and alarming reprisals; a scene of scandal and
consternation。 Mr。 Buckton and the counter…clerk had crouched
within the cage; but Mr。 Mudge had; with a very quiet but very
quick step round the counter; an air of masterful authority she
shouldn't soon forget; triumphantly interposed in the scrimmage;
parted the combatants and shaken the delinquent in his skin。 She
had been proud of him at that moment; and had felt that if their
affair had not already been settled the neatness of his execution
would have left her without resistance。
Their affair had been settled by other things: by the evident
sincerity of his passion and by the sense that his high white apron
resembled a front of many floors。 It had gone a great way with her
that he would build up a business to his chin; which he carried
quite in the air。 This could only be a question of time; he would
have all Piccadilly in the pen behind his ear。 That was a merit in
itself for a girl who had known what she had known。 There were
hours at which she even found him good…looking; though; frankly
there could be no crown for her effort to imagine on the part of
the tailor or the barber some such treatment of his appearance as
would make him resemble even remotely a man of the world。 His very
beauty was the beauty of a grocer; and the finest future would
offer it none too much room consistently to develop。 She had
engaged herself in short to the perfection of a type; and almost
anything square and smooth and whole had its weight for a person
still conscious herself of being a mere bruised fragment of
wreckage。 But it contributed hugely at present to carry on the two
parallel lines of her experience in the cage and her experience out
of it。 After keeping quiet for some time about this opposition she
suddenlyone Sunday afternoon on a penny chair in the Regent's
Parkbroke; for him; capriciously; bewilderingly; into an
intimation of what it came to。 He had naturally pressed more and
more on the point of her again placing herself where he could see
her hourly; and for her to recognise that she had as yet given him
no sane reason for delay he had small need to describe himself as
unable to make out what she was up to。 As if; with her absurd bad
reasons; she could have begun to tell him! Sometimes she thought
it would be amusing to let him have them full in the face; for she
felt she should die of him unless she once in a while stupefied
him; and sometimes she thought it would be disgusting and perhaps
even fatal。 She liked him; however; to think her silly; for that
gave her the margin which at the best she would always require; and
the only difficulty about this was that he hadn't enough
imagination to oblige her。 It produced none the less something of
the desired effectto leave him simply wondering why; over the
matter of their reunion; she didn't yield to his arguments。 Then
at last; simply as if by accident and out of mere boredom on a day
that was rather flat; she preposterously produced her own。 〃Well;
wait a bit。 Where I am I still see things。〃 And she talked to him
even worse; if possible; than she had talked to Jordan。
Little by little; to her own stupefaction; she caught that he was
trying to take it as she meant it and that he was neither
astonished nor angry。 Oh the British tradesmanthis gave her an
idea of his resources! Mr。 Mudge would be angry only with a person
who; like the drunken soldier in the shop; should have an
unfavourable effect on business。 He seemed positively to enter;
for the time and without the faintest flash of irony or ripple of
laughter; into the whimsical grounds of her enjoyment of Cocker's
custom; and instantly to be casting up whatever it might;