William Somerset Maugham 17 страница

king. She walked through Connaught Square into the Edgware Road.

It was about five o'clock. There was a dense line of buses, taxis and

lorries; bicyclists dangerously threaded their way through the traffic.

The pavements were thronged. She sauntered slowly north. At first

she walked with her eyes straight in front of her, looking neither to

the right nor to the left, but soon realized that this was useless. She

must look at people if she wanted them to look at her. Two or three

times when she saw half a dozen persons gazing at a shop window

she paused and gazed too, but none of them took any notice of her.

She strolled on. People passed her in one direction and another.

They seemed in a hurry. No one paid any attention to her. When she

saw a man alone coming towards her she gave him a bold stare, but

he passed on with a blank face. It occurred to her that her expressi-

on was too severe, and she let a slight smile hover on her lips. Two

or three men thought she was smiling at them and quickly averted

their gaze. She looked back as one of them passed her and he lo-

oked back too, but catching her eye he hurried on. She felt a trifle

snubbed and decided not to look round again. She walked on and

on. She had always heard that the London crowd was the best beha-

ved in the world, but really its behaviour on this occasion was un-

conscionable.

" This couldn't happen to one in the streets of Paris, Rome or Ber-

lin, " she reflected.

She decided to go as far as the Marylebone Road, and then turn

back. It would be too humiliating to go home without being once ac-

costed. She was walking so slowly that passers-by sometimes jost-

led her. This irritated her.

" I ought to have tried Oxford Street, " she said. " That fool Evie.

The Edgware Road's obviously a wash-out. "

Suddenly her heart gave an exultant leap. She had caught a yo-

ung man's eye and she was sure that there was a gleam in it. He

passed, and she had all she could do not to turn round. She started,

for in a moment he passed her again, he had retraced his steps, and

this time he gave her a stare. She shot him a glance and then mo-

destly lowered her eyes. He fell back and she was conscious that he

was following her. It was all right. She stopped to look into a shop

window and he stopped too. She knew how to behave now. She pre-

tended to be absorbed in the goods that were displayed, but just be-

fore she moved on gave him a quick flash of her faintly smiling eyes.

He was rather short, he looked like a clerk or a shop-walker, he wore

a grey suit and a brown soft hat. He was not the man she would ha-

ve chosen to be picked up by, but there it was, he was evidently

trying to pick her up. She forgot that she was beginning to feel tired.

She did not know what would happen next. Of course she wasn't go-

ing to let the thing go too far, but she was curious to see what his

next step would be. She wondered what he would say to her. She

was excited and pleased; it was a weight off her mind. She walked

on slowly and she knew he was close behind her. She stopped at

another shop window, and this time when he stopped he was close

beside her. Her heart began to beat wildly. It was really beginning to

look like an adventure.

" I wonder if he'll ask me to go to a hotel with him. I don't suppose

he could afford that. A cinema. That's it. It would be rather fun. "

She looked him full in the face now and very nearly smiled. He to-

ok off his hat.

" Miss Lambert, isn't it? "

She almost jumped out of her skin. She was indeed so taken

aback that she had not the presence of mind to deny it.

" I thought I recognized you the moment I saw you, that's why I

turned back, to make sure, see, and I said to meself, if that's not

Julia Lambert I'm Ramsay Macdonald. Then you stopped to look in

that shop window and that give me the chance to 'ave a good look

at you. What made me 'esitate was seeing you in the Edgware Road.

It seems so funny, if you know what I mean. "

It was much funnier than he imagined. Anyhow it didn't matter if

he knew who she was. She ought to have guessed that she couldn't

go far in London without being recognized. He had a cockney accent

and a pasty face, but she gave him a jolly, friendly smile. He mustn't

think she was putting on airs.

" Excuse me talking to you, not 'aving been introduced and all

that, but I couldn't miss the opportunity. Will you oblige me with yo-

ur autograph? "

Julia caught her breath. It couldn't be that this was why he had

followed her for ten minutes. He must have thought that up as an

excuse for speaking to her. Well, she would play up.

" I shall be delighted. But I can't very well give it you in the street.

People would stare so. "

" That's right. Look here, I was just going along to 'ave my tea.

There's a Lyons at the next corner. Why don't you come in and 'ave

a cup too? "

She was getting on. When they'd had tea he'd probably suggest

going to the pictures.

" All right, " she said.

They walked along till they came to the shop and took their pla-

ces at a small table.

" Two teas, please, miss, " he ordered. " Anything to eat? " And

when Julia declined: " Scone* and butter for one, miss. "

Julia was able now to have a good look at him. Though stocky and

short he had good features, his black hair was plastered down on his

head and he had fine eyes, but his teeth were poor and his pale skin

gave him an unhealthy look. There was a sort of impudence in his

manner that Julia did not much like, but then, as she sensibly reflec-

ted, you could hardly expect the modesty of the violet in a young

man who picked you up in the Edgware Road.

" Before we go any further let's 'ave this autograph, eh? Do it now,

that's my motto. "

He took a fountain pen from his pocket and from a bulging poc-

ket-book a large card.

" One of our trade cards, " he said. " That'll do O. K. "

Julia thought it silly to carry the subterfuge to this length, but she

good-humouredly signed her name on the back of the card.

" Do you collect autographs? " she asked him with a subtle smile.

" Me? Noa. I think it's a lot of tommy rot. My young lady does.

She's got Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks and I don't know

what all. Show you 'er photo if you like. "

From his pocket-book he extracted a snapshot of a rather pert-lo-

oking* young woman showing all her teeth in a cinema smile.

" Pretty, " said Julia.

" And how. We're going to the pictures tonight. She will be surpri-

sed when I give her your autograph. The first thing I said to meself

when I knew it was you was, I'll get Julia Lambert's autograph for

Gwen or die in the attempt. We're going to get married in August,

when I 'ave my 'oliday, you know; we're going to the Isle of Wight

for the 'oneymoon. I shall 'ave a rare lot of fun with 'er over this. She

won't believe me when I tell her you an' me 'ad tea together, she'll

think I'm kidding, and then I'll show 'er the autograph, see? "

Julia listened to him politely, but the smile had left her face.

" I'm afraid I shall have to go in a minute, " she said. " I'm late alre-

ady. "

" I 'aven't got too much time meself. You see, meeting my young

lady, I want to get away from the shop on the tick. "

The check had been put on the table when the girl brought their

tea, and when they got up Julia took a shilling out of her bag.

" What are you doing that for? You don't think I'm going to let you

pay. I invited you. "

" That's very kind of you. "

" But I'll tell you what you can do, let me bring my young lady to

see you in your dressing-room one day. Just shake 'ands with her,

see? It would mean a rare lot to her. Why, she'd go on talking about

it the rest of her life. "

Julia's manner had been for some minutes growing stiffer and

now, though gracious still, it was almost haughty.

" I'm so sorry, but we never allow strangers behind. "

" Oh, sorry. You don't mind my asking though, do you? I mean, it's

not as if it was for meself. "

" Not at all. I quite understand. "

She signalled to a cab crawling along the kerb and gave her hand

to the young man.

" Good-bye, Miss Lambert. So long, good luck and all that sort of

thing. And thanks for the autograph. "

Julia sat in the corner of the taxi raging.

" Vulgar little beast. Him and his young lady. The nerve of asking if

he could bring her to see ME. "

When she got home she went upstairs to her room. She snatched

her hat off her head and flung it angrily on the bed. She strode over

to the looking-glass and stared at herself.

" Old, old, old, " she muttered. " There are no two ways about it; I'm

entirely devoid of sex appeal. You wouldn't believe it, would you?

You'd say it was preposterous. What other explanation is there? I

walk from one end of the Edgware Road to the other and God knows

I'd dressed the part perfectly, and not a man pays the smallest at-

tention to me except a bloody little shop-assistant who wants my

autograph for his young lady. It's absurd. A lot of sexless bastards. I

don't know what's coming to the English. The British Empire! "

The last words she said with a scorn that would have withered a

whole front bench of cabinet ministers. She began to gesticulate.

" It's ridiculous to suppose that I could have got to my position if I

hadn't got sex appeal. What do people come to see an actress for?

Because they want to go to bed with her. Do you mean to tell me

that I could fill a theatre for three months with a rotten play if I

hadn't got sex appeal? What is sex appeal anyway? "

She paused, looking at herself reflectively.

" Surely I can act sex appeal. I can act anything. "

She began to think of the actresses who notoriously had it, of one

especially, Lydia Mayne, whom one always engaged when one wan-

ted a vamp. She was not much of an actress, but in certain parts

she was wonderfully effective. Julia was a great mimic, and now she

began to do an imitation of Lydia Mayne. Her eyelids drooped sensu-

ally over her eyes as Lydia's did and her body writhed sinuously in

her dress. She got into her eyes the provoking indecency of Lydia's

glance and into her serpentine gestures that invitation which was

Lydia's speciality. She began to speak in Lydia's voice, with the lazy

drawl that made every remark she uttered sound faintly obscene.

" Oh, my dear man, I've heard that sort of thing so often. I don't

want to make trouble between you and your wife. Why won't men

leave me alone? "

It was a cruel caricature that Julia gave. It was quite ruthless. It

amused her so much that she burst out laughing.

" Well, there's one thing, I may not have any sex appeal, but after

seeing my imitation there aren't many people who'd think Lydia had

either. "

It made her feel much better.

REHEARSALS began and distracted Julia's troubled mind. The revi-

val that Michael put on when she went abroad had done neither

very well nor very badly, but rather than close the theatre he was

keeping it in the bill till Nowadays was ready. Because he was acting

two matinees a week, and the weather was hot, he determined that

they should take rehearsals easy. They had a month before them.

Though Julia had been on the stage so long she had never lost the

thrill she got out of rehearsing, and the first rehearsal still made her

almost sick with excitement. It was the beginning of a new adventu-

re. She did not feel like a leading lady then, she felt as gay and

eager as if she were a girl playing her first small part. But at the sa-

me time she had a delicious sense of her own powers. Once more

she had the chance to exercise them.

At eleven o'clock she stepped on to the stage. The cast stood

about idly. She kissed and shook hands with the artists she knew

and Michael with urbanity introduced to her those she did not. She

greeted Avice Crich-ton with cordiality. She told her how pretty she

was and how much she liked her hat; she told her about the lovely

frocks she had chosen for her in Paris.

" Have you seen Tom lately? " she asked.

" No, I haven't. He's away on his holiday. "

" Oh, yes. He's a nice little thing, isn't he? "

" Sweet. "

The two women smiled into one another's eyes. Julia watched her

when she read her part and listened to her intonations. She smiled

grimly. It was exactly what she had expected. Avice was one of tho-

se actresses who were quite sure of themselves from the first rehe-

arsal. She didn't know what was coming to her. Tom meant nothing

to Julia any more, but she had a score to settle with Avice and she

wasn't going to forget it. The slut!

The play was a modern version of The Second Mrs. Tanqueray,

but with the change of manners of this generation it had been tre-

ated from the standpoint of comedy. Some of the old characters we-

re introduced, and Aubrey Tanqueray, now a very old man, appe-

ared in the second act. After Paula's death he had married for the

third time. Mrs. Cortelyon had undertaken to compensate him for his

unfortunate experience with his second wife, and she was now a

cantankerous* and insolent old lady. Ellean, his daughter, and Hugh

Ardale had agreed to let bygones be bygones, for Paula's tragic de-

ath had seemed to wipe out the recollection of his lapse into extra-

conjugal relations; and they had married. He was now a retired bri-

gadier-general who played golf and deplored the decline of the Bri-

tish Empire - " Gad, sir, I'd stand those damned socialists against a

wall and shoot 'em if I had my way", whereas Ellean, by this time an

elderly woman, after a prudish youth had become gay, modern and

plain-spoken. The character that Michael played was called Robert

Humphreys, and like the Aubrey of Pinero's play he was a widower

with an only daughter; he had been a consul in China for many ye-

ars, and having come into money had retired and was settling on

the estate, near where the Tanquerays still lived, which a cousin had

left him. His daughter, Honor (this was the part for which Avice

Crichton had been engaged), was studying medicine with the inten-

tion of practising in India. Alone in London, and friendless after so

many years abroad, he had picked up a well-known woman of the

town called Mrs. Marten. Mrs. Marten belonged to the same class as

Paula, but she was less exclusive; she " did" the summer and the

winter season at Cannes and in the intervals lived in a flat in Albe-

marle Street where she entertained the officers of His Majesty's bri-

gade. She played a good game of bridge and an even better game

of golf. The part well suited Julia.

The author followed the lines of the old play closely. Honor anno-

unced to her father that she was abandoning her medical studies

and until her marriage wished to live with him, for she had just be-

come engaged to Ellean's son, a young guardsman. Somewhat dis-

concerted, Robert Humphreys broke to her his intention of marrying

Mrs. Marten. Honor took the information with composure.

" Of course you know she's a tart, don't you? " she said coolly.

He, much embarrassed, spoke of the unhappy life she had led

and how he wanted to make up to her for all she had suffered.

" Oh, don't talk such rot, " she answered. " It's grand work if you

can get it. "

Ellean's son had been one of Mrs. Marten's numerous lovers just

as Ellean's husband had been one of Paula Tanqueray's. When Ro-

bert Humphreys brought his wife down to his home in the country

and this fact was discovered, they decided that Honor must be infor-

med. To their consternation Honor did not turn a hair. She knew al-

ready.

" I was as pleased as Punch when I found out, " she told her step-

mother. " You see, darling, you can tell me if he's all right in bed. "

This was Avice Crichton's best scene, it lasted a full ten minutes,

and Michael had realized from the beginning that it was effective

and important. Avice's cold, matter-of-fact prettiness had been

exactly what he had thought would be so telling in the circumstan-

ces. But after half a dozen rehearsals he began to think that that

was all she had to give. He talked it over with Julia.

" How d'you think Avice is shaping? "

" It's early days to tell yet. "

" I'm not happy about her. You said she could act. I've seen no

sign of it yet. "

" It's a cast-iron part. She can't really go wrong in it. "

" You know just as well as I do that there's no such thing as a cast-

iron part. However good a part is, it has to be acted for all it's worth.

I'm not sure if it wouldn't be better to kick her out and get some-

body else. "

" That wouldn't be so easy. I think you ought to give her a chan-

ce. "

" She's so awkward, her gestures are so meaningless. "

Julia reflected. She had her reasons for wishing to keep Avice in

the cast. She knew her well enough to be sure that if she were dis-

missed she would tell Tom that it was because Julia was jealous of

her. He loved her and would believe anything she said. He might

even think that Julia had put this affront on her in revenge for his de-

sertion. No, no, she must stay. She must play the part, and fail; and

Tom must see with his own eyes what a bad actress she was. They

both of them thought the play would make her. Fools. It would kill

her.

" You know how clever you are, Michael, I'm sure you can train her

if you're willing to take a little trouble. "

" But that's just it, she doesn't seem able to take direction. I show

her exactly how to say a line and then she goes and says it in her

own way. You wouldn't believe it, but sometimes I can hardly help

thinking she's under the delusion that she knows better than I do. "

" You make her nervous. When you tell her to do something she's

in such a dither she doesn't know what she's up to. "

" Good lord, no one could be more easy than I am. I've never even

been sharp with her. "

Julia gave him an affectionate smile.

" Are you going to pretend that you really don't know what's the

matter with her? "

" No, what? "

He looked at her with a blank face.

" Come off it, darling. Haven't you noticed that she's madly in love

with you? "

" With me? But I thought she was practically engaged to Tom.

Nonsense. You're always fancying things like that. "

" But it's quite obvious. After all she isn't the first who's fallen for

your fatal beauty, and I don't suppose she'll be the last. "

" Heaven knows, I don't want to queer poor Tom's pitch. "

" It's not your fault, is it? "

" What d'you want me to do about it then? "

" Well, I think you ought to be nice to her. She's very young, you

know, poor thing. What she wants is a helping hand. If you took her

alone a few times and went through the part with her I believe you

could do wonders. Why don't you take her out to lunch one day and

have a talk to her? "

She saw the gleam in Michael's eyes as he considered the propo-

sition and the shadow of a smile that was outlined on his lips.

" Of course the great thing is to get the play as well acted as we

can. "

" I know it'll be a bore for you, but honestly, for the sake of the

play I think it'll be worth while. "

" You know that I would never do anything to upset you, Julia. I

mean, I'd much sooner fire the girl and get someone else in her pla-

ce. "

" I think that would be such a mistake. I'm convinced that if you'll

only take enough trouble with her she'll give a very good performan-

ce. "

He walked up and down the room once or twice. He seemed to be

considering the matter from every side.

" Well, I suppose it's my job to get the best performance I can out

of every member of my cast. In every case you have to find out

which is the best method of approach. "

He threw out his chin and drew in his belly. He straightened his

back. Julia knew that Avice Crichton would hold the part, and next

day at rehearsal he took her aside and had a long talk with her. She

knew by his manner exactly what he was saying and, watching them

out of the corner of her eye, presently she saw Avice nod and smile.

He had asked her to lunch with him. With a contented mind Julia

went on studying her part.

THEY had been rehearsing for a fortnight when Roger arrived

from Austria. He had been spending a few weeks on a Carinthian la-

ke, and after a day or two in London was to go and stay with friends

in Scotland. Since Michael had to dine early to go to the theatre Julia

went to meet him by herself. When she was dressing, Evie, sniffing

as usual, told her that she was taking as much pains to make herself

look nice as if she were going to meet a young man. She wanted Ro-

ger to be proud of her, and certainly she looked very young and

pretty in her summer frock as she strolled up and down the plat-

form. You would have thought, but wrongly, that she was perfectly

unconscious of the attention she attracted. Roger, after a month in

the sun, was very brown, but he was still rather spotty and he se-

emed thinner than when he had left London at the New Year. She

hugged him with exuberant affection. He smiled slightly.

They were to dine by themselves. Julia asked him if he would like

to go to a play afterwards or to the pictures, but he said he prefer-

red to stay at home.

" That'll be much nicer, " she answered, " and we'll just talk. "

There was indeed a subject that Michael had invited her to dis-

cuss with Roger when the opportunity arose. Now that he was going

to Cambridge so soon he ought to make up his mind what he wan-

ted to do. Michael was afraid that he would drift through his time

there and then go into a broker's office or even on the stage. Thin-

king that Julia had more tact than he, and more influence with the

boy, he had urged her to put before him the advantages of the Fore-

ign Office and the brilliant possibilities of the Bar. Julia thought it wo-

uld be strange if in the course of two or three hours' conversation

she could not find a way to lead to this important topic. At dinner

she tried to get him to talk about Vienna. But he was reticent.

" Oh, I just did the usual things, you know. I saw the sights and

worked hard at my German. I knocked about in beer places. I went

to the opera a good deal. "

She wondered if he had had any love affairs.

" Anyhow, you haven't come back engaged to a Viennese ma-

iden, " she said, thinking to draw him out.

He gave her a reflective, but faintly amused look. You might al-

most have thought that he had seen what she was driving at. It was

strange; though he was her own son she did not feel quite at home

with him.

" No, " he answered, " I was too busy to bother with that sort of

thing. "

" I suppose you went to all the theatres. "

" I went two or three times. "

" Did you see anything that would be any use to me? "

" You know, I never thought about that. "

His answer might have seemed a little ungracious but that it was

accompanied by a smile, and his smile was very sweet. Julia wonde-

red again how it was that he had inherited so little of Michael's bea-

uty and of her charm. His red hair was nice, but his pale lashes gave

his face a sort of empty look. Heaven only knew where with such a

father and such a mother he had got his rather lumpy figure. He was

eighteen now; it was time he fined down. He seemed a trifle apathe-

tic; he had none of her sparkling vitality; she could picture the vivid-

ness with which she would have narrated her experiences if she had

just spent six months in Vienna. Why, already she had made a story

about her stay at St. Malo with Aunt Carrie and her mother that ma-