按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃It's a beautiful day … there'll be a great crowd。 We're going to
look at the people； to look at types；〃 the girl went on。 〃We shall
sit under the trees； we shall walk by the Row。〃
〃I go once a year … on business；〃 said St。 George； who had
overheard Paul's question。
〃Or with a country cousin； didn't you tell me？ I'm the country
cousin！〃 she continued over her shoulder to Paul as their friend
drew her toward a hansom to which he had signalled。 The young man
watched them get in； he returned； as he stood there； the friendly
wave of the hand with which； ensconced in the vehicle beside her；
St。 George took leave of him。 He even lingered to see the vehicle
start away and lose itself in the confusion of Bond Street。 He
followed it with his eyes； it put to him embarrassing things。
〃She's not for ME！〃 the great novelist had said emphatically at
Summersoft； but his manner of conducting himself toward her
appeared not quite in harmony with such a conviction。 How could he
have behaved differently if she HAD been for him？ An indefinite
envy rose in Paul Overt's heart as he took his way on foot alone； a
feeling addressed alike strangely enough； to each of the occupants
of the hansom。 How much he should like to rattle about London with
such a girl！ How much he should like to go and look at 〃types〃
with St。 George！
The next Sunday at four o'clock he called in Manchester Square；
where his secret wish was gratified by his finding Miss Fancourt
alone。 She was in a large bright friendly occupied room； which was
painted red all over； draped with the quaint cheap florid stuffs
that are represented as coming from southern and eastern countries；
where they are fabled to serve as the counterpanes of the
peasantry； and bedecked with pottery of vivid hues； ranged on
casual shelves； and with many water…colour drawings from the hand
（as the visitor learned） of the young lady herself； commemorating
with a brave breadth the sunsets； the mountains； the temples and
palaces of India。 He sat an hour … more than an hour； two hours …
and all the while no one came in。 His hostess was so good as to
remark； with her liberal humanity； that it was delightful they
weren't interrupted； it was so rare in London； especially at that
season； that people got a good talk。 But luckily now； of a fine
Sunday； half the world went out of town； and that made it better
for those who didn't go； when these others were in sympathy。 It
was the defect of London … one of two or three； the very short list
of those she recognised in the teeming world…city she adored … that
there were too few good chances for talk； you never had time to
carry anything far。
〃Too many things … too many things！〃 Paul said； quoting St。
George's exclamation of a few days before。
〃Ah yes； for him there are too many … his life's too complicated。〃
〃Have you seen it NEAR？ That's what I should like to do； it might
explain some mysteries；〃 her visitor went on。 She asked him what
mysteries he meant； and he said： 〃Oh peculiarities of his work；
inequalities； superficialities。 For one who looks at it from the
artistic point of view it contains a bottomless ambiguity。〃
She became at this； on the spot； all intensity。 〃Ah do describe
that more … it's so interesting。 There are no such suggestive
questions。 I'm so fond of them。 He thinks he's a failure …
fancy！〃 she beautifully wailed。
〃That depends on what his ideal may have been。 With his gifts it
ought to have been high。 But till one knows what he really
proposed to himself … ？ Do YOU know by chance？〃 the young man
broke off。
〃Oh he doesn't talk to me about himself。 I can't make him。 It's
too provoking。〃
Paul was on the point of asking what then he did talk about； but
discretion checked it and he said instead： 〃Do you think he's
unhappy at home？〃
She seemed to wonder。 〃At home？〃
〃I mean in his relations with his wife。 He has a mystifying little
way of alluding to her。〃
〃Not to me；〃 said Marian Fancourt with her clear eyes。 〃That
wouldn't be right； would it？〃 she asked gravely。
〃Not particularly； so I'm glad he doesn't mention her to you。 To
praise her might bore you； and he has no business to do anything
else。 Yet he knows you better than me。〃
〃Ah but he respects YOU！〃 the girl cried as with envy。
Her visitor stared a moment； then broke into a laugh。 〃Doesn't he
respect you？〃
〃Of course； but not in the same way。 He respects what you've done
… he told me so； the other day。〃
Paul drank it in； but retained his faculties。 〃When you went to
look at types？〃
〃Yes … we found so many： he has such an observation of them！ He
talked a great deal about your book。 He says it's really
important。〃
〃Important！ Ah the grand creature！〃 … and the author of the work
in question groaned for joy。
〃He was wonderfully amusing； he was inexpressibly droll； while we
walked about。 He sees everything； he has so many comparisons and
images； and they're always exactly right。 C'est d'un trouve； as
they say。〃
〃Yes； with his gifts； such things as he ought to have done！〃 Paul
sighed。
〃And don't you think he HAS done them？〃
Ah it was just the point。 〃A part of them； and of course even that
part's immense。 But he might have been one of the greatest。
However； let us not make this an hour of qualifications。 Even as
they stand；〃 our friend earnestly concluded； 〃his writings are a
mine of gold。〃
To this proposition she ardently responded； and for half an hour
the pair talked over the Master's principal productions。 She knew
them well … she knew them even better than her visitor； who was
struck with her critical intelligence and with something large and
bold in the movement in her mind。 She said things that startled
him and that evidently had come to her directly； they weren't
picked…up phrases … she placed them too well。 St。 George had been
right about her being first…rate； about her not being afraid to
gush； not remembering that she must be proud。 Suddenly something
came back to her； and she said： 〃I recollect that he did speak of
Mrs。 St。 George to me once。 He said； apropos of something or
other； that she didn't care for perfection。〃
〃That's a great crime in an artist's wife；〃 Paul returned。
〃Yes； poor thing！〃 and the girl sighed with a suggestion of many
reflexions； some of them mitigating。 But she presently added： 〃Ah
perfection； perfection … how one ought to go in for it！ I wish I
could。〃
〃Every one can in his way；〃 her companion opined。
〃In HIS way； yes … but not in hers。 Women are so hampered … so
condemned！ Yet it's a kind of dishonour if you don't； when you
want to DO something； isn't it？〃 Miss Fancourt pursued； dropping
one train in her quickness to take up another； an accident that was
common with her。 So these two young persons sat discussing high
themes in their eclectic drawing…