howhe
would
come
back
to
England
soon
,
as
he
had
said
,
and
what
we
would
do
then
,
for
I
had
so
dinned
it
into
myself
that
he
was
n't
for
me
that
I
had
entirely
given
up
the
quest
of
the
Blue
Bird
.
He
was
just
a
tender
memory
...
and
impressionable
me
fell
in
love
again
.
But
not
as
with
Maurice
—
I
was
top-dog
this
time
.
He
was
the
sort
of
man
that
did
n't
count
except
in
that
I
loved
him
.
He
was
the
servant
of
my
reaction
against
Maurice
,
and
to
serve
me
well
he
had
to
help
me
wipe
out
all
the
castles
of
sentiment
I
had
built
around
Maurice
.
And
the
most
gorgeous
castle
of
all
I
had
built
round
that
little
Welsh
inn
!
Something
must
be
done
about
that
,
I
told
myself
,
but
for
a
long
time
I
was
afraid
of
the
ghost
of
Maurice
,
which
might
still
haunt
the
place
,
and
bring
him
back
overpoweringly
to
me
.
It
was
a
risk
;
by
going
there
with
some
one
else
I
might
either
succeed
in
demolishing
Maurice
's
last
castle
,
or
I
might
tragically
have
to
rebuild
all
the
others
,
and
worship
him
again
.
"
He
had
continued
to
write
to
me
,
complaining
of
my
silence
.
And
he
had
somehow
become
insistent
—
he
missed
me
,
it
seemed
.
He
did
n't
write
that
he
loved
me
,
but
he
forgot
to
describe
the
Nile
,
and
wrote
about
love
as
though
it
were
a
real
and
beautiful
thing
and
not
a
pastime
to
be
wedged
in
between
fishing
and
hunting
.
I
wrote
to
him
once
again
,
rather
lightly
,
saying
that
I
had
patched
up
my
heart
and
might
never
give
him
a
chance
to
break
it
again
.
That
was
just
before
I
went
to
demolish
the
last
castle
of
my
love
for
him
.
For
I
did
go
;
one
day
my
young
man
produced
a
high-powered
car
which
could
go
fast
enough
to
prevent
one
sleeping
from
boredom
,
and
I
said
'
Us
for
Llangollen
,
'
and
away
we
went
...
"
The
divinest
thing
about
that
little
inn
was
its
miniature
dining-room
,
composed
almost
entirely
of
a
large
bow-window
and
a
long
Queen
Anne
refectory
table
.
There
were
three
tables
,
of
which
never
more
than
one
was
occupied
.
Maurice
and
I
had
sat
at
the
table
by
the
window
,
and
now
my
reaction
and
I
sat
there
again
;
we
looked
out
on
to
a
toy
garden
sloping
down
to
a
brown
stream
which
made
much
more
noise
than
you
could
think
possible
for
so
narrow
a
thing
.
My
back
was
to
the
door
,
and
I
sat
facing
a
large
mirror
,
with
the
garden
and
the
stream
on
my
right
;
he
sat
facing
the
window
,
adoring
me
,
the
adventure
,
the
stream
,
and
the
food
.
And
I
was
happy
too
,
for
now
I
realised
that
I
had
fallen
out
of
love
with
Maurice
,
for
his
ghost
did
n't
haunt
the
chair
beside
me
,
and
I
could
think
of
him
tenderly
,
without
regret
.
I
was
happy
—
until
,
in
the
mirror
in
front
of
me
,
I
saw
the
great
figure
of
Maurice
,
and
his
face
,
at
the
open
door
.
Our
eyes
met
in
the
mirror
,
the
eyes
of
statues
,
waiting
...
.
I
do
n't
know
what
I
felt
—
I
was
n't
afraid
,
I
know
.
Perhaps
I
was
n't
even
ashamed
.
I
do
n't
know
how
long
he
stood
there
,
filling
the
doorway
.
Not
more
than
a
few
seconds
,
but
all
the
intimacy
of
six
weeks
met
in
our
glance
in
that
mirror
.
At
last
he
took
his
eyes
off
mine
and
looked
at
the
man
beside
me
,
who
had
n't
seen
him
.
I
thought
his
lips
twitched
,
and
his
eyes
became
adorably
stern
,
and
then
the
mirror
clouded
over
...
.
When
I
could
see
again
the
door
was
closed
,
and
Maurice
was
gone
.
The
magic
mirror
was
empty
of
all
but
my
unbelieving
eyes
,
and
the
profile
of
the
man
beside
me
,
who
had
n't
seen
him
and
never
knew
that
I
had
lived
six
weeks
while
he
ate
a
potato
...
.
"
I
stayed
my
week
out
in
Wales
,
because
I
always
try
to
do
what
is
expected
of
me
.
When
I
got
home
,
right
on
the
top
of
a
pile
of
letters
—
I
had
given
orders
for
nothing
,
not
even
wires
,
to
be
sent
on
to
me
—
was
a
wire
,
which
had
arrived
one
hour
after
I
had
left
for
Wales
.
It
was
from
Southampton
,
and
it
said
:
'
Just
arrived
.
Am
going
straight
up
to
the
little
palace
in
Wales
because
of
memories
.
Will
arrive
there
dinner-time
.
Shall
we
dine
together
by
the
window
?
'
"
And
so
,
you
see
,
I
had
won
and
lost
and
won
again
,
but
how
pathetically
...
.
Am
I
such
a
bad
woman
,
d'you
think
?
"
VIII
AS
I
look
back
now
on
the
past
years
,
I
find
that
the
thing
that
penetrated
most
into
my
inner
self
,
shocked
me
to
the
heart
,
and
gave
me
no
room
and
left
no
desire
for
any
pretence
about
the
will
of
fate
and
destiny
,
such
as
sometimes
consoles
grief
,
was
the
death
of
my
friend
Louis
.
Unlike
most
great
friendships
,
mine
with
Louis
began
at
school
;
and
those
,
to
whom
circumstances
have
not
allowed
friendships
at
school
,
cannot
realise
the
intensity
of
certain
few
friendships
which
,
beginning
on
a
basis
of
tomfoolery
and
ragging
,
as
the
general
relations
between
schoolboys
begin
,
yet
survive
them
all
,
and
steadily
ripen
with
the
years
into
a
maturity
of
companionship
,
which
has
such
a
quality
and
nobility
of
its
own
that
no
other
relation
,
not
even
that
of
passionate
love
,
can
ever
take
its
place
when
it
is
gone
.
I
have
not
happened
to
mention
Louis
before
in
these
papers
for
the
reason
that
he
had
actually
come
very
little
into
my
life
in
London
.
In
fact
,
we
retained
our
intimacy
against
the
aggression
of
our
different
lives
,
which
was
rather
paradoxical
for
the
casual
people
we
believed
ourselves
to
be
.
(
Without
a
sincere
belief
in
his
own
casualness
the
modern
youth
would
be
the
most
self-important
ass
of
all
generations
.
)
Our
ways
of
life
lead
very
contrarily
;
there
was
nowhere
they
could
rationally
touch
;
he
,
a
soldier
;
I
,
a
doctor
,
lawyer
,
or
pedlar
,
I
did
not
know
which
.
But
I
had
the
grace
,
or
if
you
like
,
the
foolishness
,
to
envy
him
the
definite
markings
of
his
career
;
I
envied
him
his
knowledge
of
the
road
he
wished
to
tread
,
and
of
the
almost
certainties
which
lay
inevitably
along
that
road
.
Later
,
in
those
very
best
of
days
,
I
used
to
talk
about
him
to
Shelmerdene
.
And
as
I
described
,
she
listened
and
wondered
.
For
,
she
said
,
such
a
man
as
I
described
Louis
to
be
,
and
myself
,
could
have
nothing
in
common
.
But
I
told
her
that
it
is
n't
necessary
for
two
people
to
have
anything
"
in
common
"
but
friendship
—
and
as
I
made
that
meaningless
remark
I
put
on
a
superior
air
,
and
she
did
not
laugh
at
me
.
She
continued
to
wonder
during
months
,
and
at
last
she
said
,
"
Produce
this
wretched
youth
.
"
But
I
would
not
produce
him
,
"
because
Louis
has
never
in
his
life
met
or
dreamt
of
any
one
like
you
,
and
he
will
fall
in
love
with
you
straight
away
.
And
as
he
is
more
honest
than
I
am
,
so
he
will
fall
in
love
with
you
much
more
seriously
,
and
that
will
be
very
bad
for
him
,
because
you
are
the
sort
of
woman
that
you
are
.
It
is
n't
fair
to
destroy
the
illusions
of
a
helpless
subaltern
in
the
Rifle
Brigade
...
.
No
,
I
will
not
produce
him
,
Shelmerdene
.
"
But
of
course
I
did
,
and
of
course
Louis
saw
,
heard
,
and
succumbed
delightedly
,
and
all
through
that
lunch
and
for
the
half-hour
after
I
had
to
keep
a
very
stern
eye
on
Shelmerdene
and
take
great
care
not
to
let
her
get
within
a
yard
of
him
,
else
she
would
have
asked
him
to
go
and
see
her
next
time
he
was
in
town
,
and
then
there
would
have
been
another
wild-eyed
ghost
wandering
about
the
desert
places
of
Mayfair
.
As
for
Louis
,
he
beat
even
his
own
record
for
dulness
during
that
lunch
.
He
admired
her
tremendously
and
obviously
,
and
too
obviously
he
could
n't
understand
a
beautiful
woman
with
beauty
enough
to
be
as
dull
as
she
liked
,
saying
witty
and
amusing
things
every
few
seconds
,
always
giving
the
most
trivial
remark
,
the
most
stereotyped
phrase
,
such
a
queer
twist
as
would
make
it
seem
delightfully
new
.
For
ever
after
he
pestered
me
to
"
produce
"
him
again
,
and
I
made
myself
rather
unpopular
by
putting
him
off
;
and
I
never
did
let
him
see
her
again
.
On
Shelmerdene
's
part
it
was
just
cussedness
to
worry
me
to
see
him
again
,
for
with
a
disgusted
laugh
at
my
"
heavy
father
stunt
,
"
she
forgot
all
about
him
;
after
that
lunch
she
had
found
him
"
rather
dull
and
a
dear
,
and
much
to
be
loved
by
all
women
over
thirty-five
.
I
am
not
yet
old
enough
to
love
your
Louis
,
"
she
said
.
And
she
retained
her
surprise
at
our
friendship
.
It
was
,
perhaps
,
rather
surprising
;
surprising
not
so
much
that
we
were
friends
,
but
how
we
ever
became
friends
;
for
there
are
many
people
in
this
world
,
who
could
be
great
friends
with
each
other
if
they
could
but
once
surmount
the
first
barrier
,
if
they
could
but
wish
to
surmount
that
barrier
—
and
between
Louis
and
me
there
was
much
more
than
a
simple
barrier
to
surmount
.
We
became
friends
in
spite
of
ourselves
,
then
;
though
Louis
,
as
you
may
believe
,
had
nothing
at
all
to
do
with
the
affair
;
he
just
sat
tight
and
let
things
happen
,
to
him
,
for
his
was
not
the
nature
consciously
to
defeat
an
invisible
aim
,
a
tyrannical
decree
.
As
one
of
England
's
governing
classes
,
even
at
the
age
of
fourteen
when
I
first
met
him
,
such
a
rebellion
as
that
of
forcing
God
's
hand
about
the
smallest
trifle
would
somehow
have
savoured
to
him
of
disloyalty
to
the
"
Morning
Post
"
which
,
together
with
the
Navy
,
Louis
took
as
representing
the
British
Empire
.
I
had
been
at
school
already
one
term
when
Louis
came
;
and
so
it
was
at
breakfast
on
the
opening
day
of
the
winter
term
that
I
first
noticed
his
bewildered
face
,
though
as
we
grew
to
prefects
that
same
face
aired
so
absolute
a
nonchalance
that
,
together
with
my
rather
sophisticated
features
,
we
thoroughly
deserved
the
title
of
the
blasted
roués
.
However
,
at
that
time
,
we
were
not
prefects
,
but
"
new
bugs
,
"
though
Louis
was
by
one
term
a
newer
"
bug
"
than
myself
and
my
friends
,
and
therefore
had
to
sit
at
the
bottom
of
the
"
bug
"
table
and
take
his
food
as
he
found
it
.
I
,
of
course
,
took
no
notice
of
him
at
all
;
I
maintained
a
,
so
to
speak
,
official
hauteur
about
our
meal-time
relations
—
one
could
n't
do
anything
else
,
you
know
,
if
one
wished
to
keep
unimpaired
the
dignity
of
one
's
seniority
.
I
had
,
in
fact
,
no
use
for
newer
"
bugs
"
than
myself
;
I
was
quite
happy
at
my
own
end
of
the
table
with
the
three
men
(
ages
fourteen
to
fourteen-and-a-half
)
with
whom
I
shared
a
study
.
We
made
a
good
and
gay
study
,
I
remember
,
for
they
were
three
stalwart
fellows
and
I
,
even
at
that
age
not
taking
my
Armenianism
very
seriously
,
gave
a
quite
passable
imitation
of
an
English
public-school
man
.
How
,
as
I
looked
round
at
my
three
friends
and
said
to
myself
"
here
are
companions
for
life
,
"
how
was
I
to
know
of
the
irruption
into
my
life
of
a
bewildered
face
!
I
despised
that
face
.
It
was
the
face
of
a
newer
"
bug
"
than
myself
.
But
the
wretched
man
could
play
soccer
,
I
noticed
;
his
deft
work
at
"
inside
right
"
to
my
"
center
forward
"
warmed
my
heart
;
and
,
by
the
time
the
term
was
half
over
,
he
had
gained
a
certain
distinction
for
being
consistently
at
the
bottom
of
the
lowest
form
in
the
school
;
one
rather
liked
a
man
for
sticking
to
his
convictions
like
that
.
Nevertheless
we
became
silently
inimical
.
He
ceased
to
look
bewildered
;
with
an
English
cunning
he
had
already
found
that
an
air
of
nonchalance
pays
best
.
And
his
sort
of
"
Oh
,
d'you
think
so
?
"
air
began
to
irritate
me
;
it
was
no
good
doing
my
man
of
the
world
on
a
man
who
obviously
made
a
point
of
not
believing
what
I
said
.
I
rather
felt
in
speaking
to
him
as
an
irritated
and
fussy
foreign
ambassador
must
feel
before
the
well-bred
imperturbability
of
Mr.
Balfour
;
I
was
n't
then
old
enough
to
know
I
felt
like
that
,
but
myself
and
study
had
reasonable
grounds
for
deciding
that
"
that
sloppy-haired
new
long
bug
was
a
conceited
young
swine
,
"
and
that
he
was
trading
rather
too
much
on
being
at
the
bottom
of
the
school
.
There
was
a
dark-haired
,
sallow-faced
youth
,
one
Marsden
,
who
had
come
the
same
term
as
we
three
;
he
had
at
first
shared
our
study
,
but
had
been
fired
out
for
being
a
cub
.
And
,
by
intimating
to
the
House-Master
that
if
he
was
put
back
in
our
study
,
new
bugs
or
no
,
we
would
n't
answer
for
his
mother
's
knowing
him
,
we
had
fired
him
out
in
such
a
way
that
he
could
n't
ever
get
back
.
But
he
did
n't
try
to
get
back
.
He
just
went
into
the
newest
bug
's
study
,
and
there
,
when
Louis
came
the
next
term
,
made
firm
and
fast
friends
with
him
.
Marsden
disliked
me
much
more
than
he
disliked
any
one
else
,
as
I
had
been
the
instigator
of
his
ejection
from
our
study
,
and
so
the
silent
and
contemptuous
enmity
with
which
Louis
eyed
me
was
n't
very
strange
.
Those
two
made
common
cause
in
their
indifference
to
anything
we
three
at
the
head
of
the
table
might
say
;
and
soon
,
things
came
to
such
a
pass
that
we
had
to
put
lumps
of
salt
into
the
potato
dish
before
handing
it
down
to
them
.
And
even
that
did
n't
seem
to
have
much
effect
,
for
one
tea-time
I
distinctly
heard
a
murmur
resembling
"
Armenian
Jew
"
escape
from
Marsden
's
lips
;
that
,
of
course
,
could
n't
be
borne
,
and
I
could
n't
then
explain
to
him
that
there
was
no
such
person
as
an
Armenian
Jew
for
I
was
n't
myself
quite
certain
about
it
—
all
I
knew
was
that
I
was
n't
a
Jew
,
and
it
was
n't
Marsden
who
was
going
to
call
me
one
in
vain
.
So
there
and
then
I
upped
and
threw
my
pot
of
jam
at
his
head
,
striking
him
neatly
just
above
the
right
eye
;
I
did
n't
do
it
in
anger
,
I
did
n't
know
why
I
did
it
,
though
now
I
know
it
was
done
through
a
base
passion
for
notoriety
,
which
I
still
have
,
though
in
a
less
primitive
manner
.
I
certainly
got
notoriety
then
,
and
also
six
cuts
from
a
very
supple
cane
and
a
Georgic
on
which
to
work
off
my
ardour
.
But
I
gained
Louis
for
a
friend
.
He
had
,
it
seemed
,
admired
the
deft
and
unassuming
way
in
which
I
had
thrown
that
pot
of
jam
—
he
knew
even
less
than
I
did
about
that
passion
for
notoriety
—
and
when
he
met
me
in
the
passage
as
I
came
back
from
my
six
cuts
in
the
prefects
'
room
,
he
said
,
"
I
say
,
bad
luck
,
"
and
I
suggested
that
if
his
friend
Marsden
's
ugly
face
had
n't
got
in
the
way
of
a
perfectly
harmless
pot
of
jam
I
would
n't
have
got
a
licking
.
Thus
,
in
a
three-minute
talk
,
we
became
friends
;
but
when
we
each
went
to
our
own
studies
we
did
n't
know
we
were
friends
—
in
fact
,
I
was
quite
prepared
to
go
on
treating
him
as
an
enemy
until
,
when
we
met
again
,
we
both
seemed
to
find
that
we
had
something
to
say
to
each
other
.
And
throughout
those
years
of
school
we
had
always
something
to
say
to
each
other
which
we
could
n't
say
quite
in
the
same
way
to
any
one
else
,
and
that
seems
to
me
to
be
the
basis
of
all
friendship
...
.
I
do
n't
quite
know
what
happened
to
Marsden
,
or
how
Louis
told
him
that
he
had
decided
to
discontinue
his
friendship
.
I
have
an
idea
that
Marsden
went
on
disliking
me
through
four
years
of
school
,
and
that
if
I
met
him
on
Piccadilly
to-morrow
would
recognise
me
only
to
scowl
at
me
,
the
man
who
not
only
hit
him
over
the
eye
with
a
pot
of
jam
,
but
also
deprived
him
of
his
best
friend
.
Louis
and
I
left
school
together
;
he
on
his
inevitable
road
to
Sandhurst
,
and
I
,
with
a
puckered
side
glance
at
Oxford
,
to
Edinburgh
University
.
Even
now
I
do
n't
know
why
I
went
to
Edinburgh
and
not
to
Oxford
;
I
had
always
intended
going
to
Oxford
,
my
family
had
always
intended
that
I
should
go
to
Oxford
,
up
to
the
last
moment
I
was
actually
going
to
Oxford
—
when
,
suddenly
,
with
a
bowler
hat
crammed
over
my
left
ear
and
a
look
of
vicious
obstinacy
,
I
decided
that
I
would
go
to
Edinburgh
instead
.
Of
course
it
was
a
silly
mistake
.
The
only
thing
I
have
gained
by
not
going
to
Oxford
is
an
utter
inability
to
write
poetry
and
a
sort
of
superior
contempt
for
all
pale
,
interesting-looking
young
men
with
dark
eyes
and
spiritual
hair
who
are
tremendously
concerned
about
the
utter
worthlessness
of
Mr.
William
Watson
's
poetry
.
Of
course
my
own
superior
attitude
may
be
just
as
unbearable
as
their
anaemic
enthusiasm
over
,
say
,
a
newly
discovered
rondel
by
the
youngest
son
of
the
local
fishmonger
;
but
I
at
least
do
sincerely
try
to
face
and
appreciate
literature
boldly
,
and
frankly
,
and
normally
,
and
not
self-consciously
as
they
do
,
attacking
literature
from
anywhere
but
a
sane
standpoint
,
trying
to
force
a
breach
in
any
queer
spot
so
that
it
is
unusual
and
has
not
been
thought
of
before
;
and
through
this
original
breach
will
suddenly
appear
an
Oxford
face
with
a
queer
unhallowed
grin
of
self-conscious
cleverness
;
and
all
this
for
a
thin
book
of
poems
in
a
yellow
cover
,
called
,
as
like
as
not
,
"
Golden
Oxygen
"
!
Louis
,
down
at
Sandhurst
,
was
being
made
into
a
soldier
,
and
I
,
up
at
Edinburgh
,
was
on
the
high
road
to
general
fecklessness
.
I
only
stayed
there
a
few
months
;
jumbled
months
of
elementary
medicine
,
political
economy
,
metaphysics
,
theosophy
—
I
once
handed
round
programs
at
an
Annie
Besant
lecture
at
the
Usher
Hall
—
and
beer
,
lots
of
beer
.
And
then
,
one
night
,
I
emptied
my
last
mug
,
and
with
another
side-glance
at
Oxford
,
came
down
to
London
;
"
to
take
up
a
literary
career
"
my
biographer
will
no
doubt
write
of
me
.
I
may
of
course
have
had
a
"
literary
career
"
at
the
back
of
my
mind
,
but
as
it
was
I
slacked
outrageously
,
much
to
Louis
'
disgust
and
envy
.
I
have
already
written
of
those
months
,
how
I
walked
in
the
Green
Park
,
and
sat
in
picture
galleries
,
and
was
lonely
.
That
first
loneliness
was
lightened
only
by
the
occasional
visits
to
London
of
Louis
.
He
was
by
now
a
subaltern
in
the
Rifle
Brigade
,
with
an
indefinite
but
cultured
growth
somewhere
between
his
nose
and
upper
lip
,
and
a
negligent
way
of
wearing
mufti
,
as
though
to
say
,
"
God
,
it
's
good
to
be
back
in
civilised
things
again
!
"
They
were
jolly
,
sudden
evenings
,
those
!
London
was
still
careless
then
.
Of
an
evening
,
a
couple
of
young
men
in
dress
suits
with
top
hats
balanced
over
their
eyebrows
and
eyes
full
of
a
blasé
vacancy
,
were
not
as
remarkable
as
they
now
are
.
Life
has
lost
its
whilom
courtesy
to
a
top
hat
.
Red
flags
and
top
hats
cannot
exist
side
by
side
;
the
world
is
not
big
enough
for
both
.
Ah
,
thou
Bolshevik
,
thou
class-beridden
shop-steward
!
When
ye
die
,
how
can
ye
say
that
ye
have
ever
lived
if
,
in
your
aggressive
experiences
,
you
have
not
known
upon
your
foreheads
the
elegant
weight
of
a
top
hat
,
made
especially
to
suit
your
Marxian
craniums
by
one
Locke
,
who
has
an
ancient
shop
at
the
lower
end
of
St.
James
's
Street
and
did
at
one
time
dictate
the
headwear
of
the
beaux
of
White
's
and
Crockford
's
.
I
warrant
the
life
of
my
top
hat
,
made
by
that
same
artist
to
withstand
the
impact
of
the
fattest
woman
on
earth
,
against
all
the
battering
eloquence
of
all
the
orators
in
all
the
Albert
Halls
of
all
the
Red
Flag
countries
.
With
it
on
my
head
I
will
finesse
any
argument
whatsoever
with
you
any
night
of
the
week
.
And
at
the
end
of
the
argument
,
if
you
are
still
obstinate
,
I
will
cram
my
blessed
top
hat
on
your
head
and
,
lo
and
behold
!
you
are
at
once
a
Labour
Minister
in
the
Cabinet
,
and
a
most
respectable
man
with
a
most
rectangular
house
in
Portman
Square
!
...
But
I
must
go
back
to
Louis
,
who
never
got
further
in
his
study
of
Labour
than
an
idea
that
all
station-masters
were
labour
leaders
because
they
took
tips
so
impressively
.
Those
occasional
evenings
were
very
good
.
I
put
away
from
myself
writing
and
books
—
Louis
had
n't
really
ever
read
anything
but
Kipling
,
"
Ole-Luk-Oie
"
and
"
The
Riddle
of
the
Sands
"
-and
I
temporarily
forgot
Shelmerdene
,
and
we
dined
right
royally
.
I
do
n't
know
what
we
talked
about
,
perhaps
we
talked
of
nothing
at
all
;
but
we
talked
all
the
time
,
and
we
laughed
a
great
deal
,
and
we
still
had
the
good
old
"
blasted
roué
"
touch
about
us
.
We
were
very
,
very
old
indeed
,
so
old
that
we
decided
that
the
first
act
of
no
play
or
revue
in
the
world
could
compensate
one
for
a
hurried
dinner
;
and
we
were
old
enough
to
know
that
a
confidential
manner
to
maitres
d'hotels
is
a
thing
to
be
cultivated
,
else
a
chicken
is
apt
to
be
wizened
and
the
sweet
an
unconscionable
long
time
in
coming
.
After
dinner
,
a
show
,
and
then
perhaps
a
night
club
,
"
to
teach
those
gals
how
to
dance
.
"
We
founded
a
Club
for
Good
Mannered
People
.
I
,
as
the
founder
,
was
the
president
of
the
club
,
and
Louis
the
vice-president
;
there
were
no
members
because
we
unanimously
black-balled
every
one
whom
,
in
a
moment
of
weakness
,
one
or
other
of
us
might
propose
.
We
decided
,
in
the
end
,
that
the
Club
could
never
have
any
members
except
the
president
and
vice-president
,
simply
because
the
men
of
our
own
generation
were
the
worst
mannered
crew
God
ever
put
within
lounging
distance
of
a
drawing-room
...
.
There
must
be
something
wrong
,
we
said
,
in
a
world
where
public-school
men
could
be
recognised
by
the
muddy
footprints
they
left
on
other
people
's
carpets
.
So
it
was
obviously
left
to
us
to
supply
the
deficiency
of
our
generation
,
both
as
regards
manners
and
everything
else
.
We
made
a
cult
of
good
manners
;
Louis
took
to
them
as
a
cult
where
he
had
never
taken
to
them
as
a
necessity
,
and
the
happiest
moments
of
his
life
were
when
he
could
work
it
off
on
to
some
helpless
woman
who
had
dropped
an
umbrella
or
a
handkerchief
.
The
Club
,
we
decided
,
must
never
come
to
an
end
,
it
must
go
on
being
a
Club
until
one
or
other
of
us
should
die
...
and
now
the
Club
is
no
more
,
for
suddenly
a
spring
gave
way
,
the
world
gave
a
lurch
towards
hell
,
and
Louis
stopped
playing
at
soldiers
to
go
away
and
be
a
real
soldier
,
to
die
in
his
first
attack
with
a
bullet
in
his
chest
...
.
IX
SOMEWHERE
in
these
papers
I
have
said
that
Shelmerdene
left
England
,
but
I
touched
on
it
very
lightly
,
for
I
am
only
half-heartedly
a
realist
,
and
may
yet
live
to
be
accused
of
shuffling
humanity
behind
a
phrase
...
.
Youth
must
endure
its
periods
of
loneliness
with
what
grace
it
can
;
and
youth
could
endure
them
as
resignedly
as
its
preceptors
,
if
it
were
not
for
its
grotesque
self-importance
,
which
inflates
loneliness
to
such
a
size
that
it
envelopes
a
young
man
's
whole
being
,
leaving
him
at
the
end
a
sorry
wreck
of
what
was
once
a
happy
mortal
.
Anyway
,
that
is
what
happened
to
me
;
I
took
the
whole
affair
in
the
worst
possible
spirit
,
and
,
during
that
probation
time
to
wisdom
,
thought
and
wrote
and
did
so
many
silly
things
,
smashed
ideals
and
cursed
idols
with
such
morbid
thoroughness
and
conviction
(
after
the
fashion
of
all
the
bitterest
young
men
)
,
that
I
must
have
been
as
detestable
a
person
as
ever
trickled
wheezily
from
the
,
well
,
pessimistic
pen
of
a
Mr.
Wyndham
Lewis
...
.
But
it
takes
very
little
effort
to
forget
that
time
entirely
,
to
let
it
bury
itself
with
what
mourning
it
can
muster
from
the
Shades
which
sent
it
to
plague
me
.
Enough
that
it
passed
,
but
not
before
it
had
,
as
they
say
,
"
put
me
wise
"
about
the
world
and
its
ways
.
For
Shelmerdene
had
left
behind
her
much
more
than
just
loneliness
;
much
that
was
more
precious
and
,
thankfully
,
more
lasting
;
for
she
had
found
a
young
man
shaped
entirely
of
acute
angles
and
sharp
corners
,
and
had
rubbed
and
polished
them
over
with
such
delicate
tact
that
it
was
only
months
,
after
she
had
gone
that
I
suddenly
realised
how
much
more
fit
I
was
to
cope
with
a
complicated
world
since
I
had
known
her
.
But
,
more
importantly
,
Shelmerdene
to
me
was
England
.
Before
I
met
her
I
did
not
know
England
;
I
knew
English
,
but
England
only
as
a
man
knows
the
landmarks
about
him
in
a
strange
country
.
But
when
she
had
come
and
gone
England
was
a
discovered
country
,
a
vast
and
ever-increasing
panorama
in
which
discoveries
were
continually
made
,
leaving
yet
more
hidden
valleys
of
discoveries
still
to
be
made
—
and
to
be
enjoyed
!
So
much
and
much
more
,
O
unbeliever
,
I
learnt
from
Shelmerdene
,
and
in
the
learning
of
it
lay
the
best
and
gladdest
lesson
of
all
.
Time
,
they
say
,
can
efface
all
things
,
but
in
truth
it
can
efface
nothing
but
its
own
inability
to
smooth
out
the
real
problems
of
life
;
so
at
least
I
have
found
in
the
one
instance
in
which
I
have
challenged
time
to
do
its
best
for
me
,
a
slave
bound
down
by
an
unholy
wizardry
;
or
else
,
perhaps
,
it
was
that
Shelmerdene
was
not
made
of
the
stuff
which
fades
into
the
years
and
becomes
musty
and
haggard
in
their
increasing
company
.
I
do
not
know
.
But
,
take
it
as
I
will
,
all
the
service
time
has
been
able
to
do
for
me
has
been
negative
,
for
without
disarranging
one
hair
of
her
head
it
has
only
emphasised
in
me
the
profound
and
subtle
influence
of
that
gracefully
licentious
woman
whom
I
once
called
Shelmerdene
,
because
,
I
told
her
,
"
it
is
the
name
of
an
American
girl
which
I
found
in
a
very
bad
American
novel
about
the
fanatical
Puritans
of
New
England
,
and
the
name
seems
to
suit
you
because
in
New
England
they
would
have
treated
you
exactly
as
they
treated
Shelmerdene
Gray
,
the
heroine
of
this
book
,
whom
they
branded
and
burnt
as
a
shameless
woman
,
but
loved
in
their
withered
hearts
for
her
gaiety
,
and
elegance
,
and
wit
,
which
they
could
n't
understand
,
but
vaguely
felt
was
as
much
an
expression
of
Christ
as
their
own
wizened
virtue
.
"
Out
of
the
silence
of
two
years
at
last
came
a
letter
from
her
.
I
found
it
when
I
came
in
very
late
one
night
,
and
for
a
long
time
I
stood
in
my
little
hall
and
examined
the
Eastern
stamp
and
postmark
;
and
the
writing
on
the
envelope
was
so
exactly
the
same
as
on
the
last
note
she
had
sent
me
before
leaving
England
that
I
had
to
smile
at
the
idea
of
Shelmerdene
,
in
the
rush
of
her
last
pursuit
of
her
perfect
fate
,
laying
in
a
sufficient
store
of
her
own
special
nibs
to
last
her
for
the
lifetime
she
intended
to
spend
abroad
;
for
when
I
opened
the
letter
I
found
that
,
as
I
had
guessed
,
she
would
never
come
back
to
England
,
saying
,
"
I
am
a
fugitive
branch
which
has
at
last
found
its
parent
tree
...
.
I
have
run
my
perfect
fate
to
earth
,
Dikran
!
more
perfect
than
any
dream
,
more
lasting
than
the
most
perfect
dream
.
And
life
is
so
beautiful
that
I
can
scarcely
bear
your
not
being
here
to
share
it
,
for
,
you
see
,
I
am
quite
sure
that
you
are
still
the
dear
you
were
two
years
ago
.
But
it
is
so
tiresome
of
you
to
be
so
young
,
and
to
have
to
experience
so
many
things
before
you
can
qualify
for
my
sort
of
happiness
;
and
on
top
of
being
young
you
are
so
restless
and
fussy
,
too
,
with
your
ideas
of
what
you
are
going
to
do
,
and
your
ambitions
—
how
it
must
tire
the
mind
to
be
ambitious
!
It
would
certainly
tire
mine
in
this
climate
,
so
will
you
please
make
a
note
of
the
fact
that
I
simply
forbid
you
to
come
out
here
to
join
me
!
You
are
too
young
to
be
happy
,
and
you
are
n't
wise
enough
to
be
contented
;
and
you
ca
n't
hope
to
be
wise
enough
until
you
begin
to
lose
a
bit
of
that
mane
of
hair
of
yours
,
which
I
hope
you
never
will
,
for
I
remember
how
I
loved
one
particular
wave
in
it
in
the
far-off
age
when
I
thought
I
was
in
love
with
you
...
.
It
is
terrible
,
but
I
am
forgetting
England
.
Terrible
,
because
it
must
be
wrong
to
forget
one
's
country
,
seeing
how
you
oppressed
nationalities
go
on
remembering
your
wretched
countries
for
centuries
of
years
,
and
throwing
bombs
and
murdering
policemen
for
all
the
world
as
though
you
were
n't
just
as
happy
as
every
one
else
,
while
I
,
with
a
country
,
which
is
after
all
worth
remembering
,
go
and
forget
it
after
a
paltry
two
years
!
Of
course
it
will
always
be
my
country
,
and
I
shall
always
love
it
for
the
good
things
it
has
given
me
,
but
as
a
fact
in
my
life
it
has
faded
into
something
more
dim
than
a
memory
.
A
spell
has
been
put
upon
me
,
Dikran
,
to
prevent
a
possible
ache
in
my
heart
for
the
things
I
was
born
among
,
a
spell
which
has
made
me
forget
Europe
and
all
my
friends
in
it
except
just
you
,
and
you
because
,
in
spite
of
all
your
English
airs
,
you
will
always
be
a
pathetic
little
stranger
in
a
very
strange
land
,
fumbling
for
the
key
...
.
Ah
,
this
wise
old
East
of
mine
!
so
old
and
so
wise
,
my
dear
,
that
it
knows
for
certain
that
nothing
is
worth
doing
;
and
as
you
happen
,
perhaps
,
on
the
ruins
of
a
long-dead
city
by
the
desert
,
you
can
almost
hear
it
chuckling
to
itself
in
its
hard-earned
wisdom
,
as
though
to
say
that
since
God
Himself
is
that
very
same
Law
which
creates
men
,
and
cities
,
and
religions
only
to
level
them
into
the
dust
of
the
roads
and
the
sands
of
the
desert
,
why
fight
against
God
!
It
is
a
corrupt
and
deadening
creed
,
this
of
the
East
,
but
it
has
a
weight
of
ancestral
will
behind
it
which
forces
you
to
believe
in
it
;
and
belief
in
it
leaves
you
without
your
Western
defences
,
and
open
to
be
charmed
into
non-resistance
,
as
I
and
my
Blue
Bird
have
been
charmed
,
else
perhaps
I
would
not
now
be
so
happy
,
and
might
even
be
dining
with
you
on
the
terrace
of
the
Hyde
Park
Hotel
...
.
Rather
bitterly
you
have
often
called
me
the
slave
of
Ishtar
,
though
at
the
time
I
did
not
know
who
the
lady
was
,
for
I
was
always
rather
weak
about
goddesses
and
such
like
;
but
I
guessed
she
had
something
to
do
with
love
because
of
the
context
,
for
you
were
developing
your
pleasant
theory
about
how
I
would
come
to
a
bad
end
,
someday
...
.
Well
,
Dikran
,
that
'
someday
'
of
your
prophecy
has
come
.
I
've
never
belonged
so
wholly
to
Ishtar
as
I
do
now
that
I
am
perhaps
in
the
very
same
country
in
which
she
once
haunted
the
imagination
of
the
myriad
East
.
I
've
made
a
mess
of
life
,
I
've
come
to
my
bad
end
,
and
,
as
I
tell
you
,
I
have
never
known
such
perfect
happiness
.
The
world
could
n't
wish
me
a
worse
fate
,
and
I
could
n't
wish
myself
a
better
...
.
Do
n't
write
to
me
,
please
.
I
can
always
imagine
you
much
more
clearly
than
your
letters
can
express
you
,
and
if
I
think
of
you
as
doing
big
things
,
as
I
pray
you
may
,
it
will
be
better
for
me
than
knowing
that
you
are
doing
nothing
at
all
,
which
might
easily
happen
,
seeing
how
lazy
you
are
...
.
In
the
dim
ages
I
was
all
wrong
about
life
.
For
I
know
now
that
restraint
in
itself
is
the
most
perfect
emotion
...
.
"
I
laid
the
letter
down
,
and
as
the
windows
were
already
greying
with
the
March
dawn
it
did
not
seem
worth
while
going
to
a
sleepless
bed
;
and
so
I
sat
on
in
my
chair
,
drawing
my
overcoat
round
me
for
warmth
,
and
smoked
many
cigarettes
.
I
felt
very
old
indeed
,
for
was
not
that
letter
the
echo
of
a
long-dead
experience
,
and
are
not
long-dead
experiences
the
peculiar
property
of
old
men
?
No
visions
of
the
Shelmerdene
of
that
letter
came
up
to
disturb
my
peace
,
for
she
did
not
fit
in
with
my
ideas
of
the
East
,
she
had
never
appealed
to
that
Eastern
side
which
must
be
somewhere
in
me
,
but
had
always
been
to
me
a
perfect
symbol
of
the
grace
and
kindliness
and
devilry
of
the
arrogant
West
.
I
could
not
see
her
as
she
described
herself
,
happy
,
meditative
,
wise
in
contentment
...
.
Her
contentment
is
too
much
like
an
emotion
,
and
therefore
spurious
,
I
thought
,
and
so
she
will
still
dine
with
me
on
the
terrace
of
the
Hyde
Park
Hotel
,
and
will
wonder
why
I
look
so
differently
at
her
,
for
I
will
still
be
young
while
she
will
be
middle-aged
...
.
No
,
that
letter
conjured
up
no
perfect
vision
of
her
in
the
East
,
except
that
I
saw
her
,
melodramatically
perhaps
,
pleading
on
her
knees
for
release
from
the
bonds
of
Ishtar
,
for
I
knew
that
not
even
a
Shelmerdene
among
women
can
evade
the
penalty
of
so
many
unsuccessful
love-affairs
just
by
the
success
of
one
.
The
grey
of
the
March
dawn
became
paler
,
and
the
furniture
and
books
in
my
room
seemed
so
wan
and
unreal
that
I
thought
drowsily
that
they
were
a
dream
of
last
night
and
were
fading
before
the
coming
daylight
;
and
later
,
when
my
thoughts
had
mellowed
into
a
security
of
retrospect
,
I
may
have
slept
,
for
I
realised
with
a
start
that
the
maid
had
come
in
to
tidy
up
the
room
for
breakfast
,
but
had
got
no
further
than
the
door
,
perhaps
wondering
whether
I
had
been
very
drunk
the
night
before
,
or
only
just
"
gay
.
"
Retrospect
came
naturally
after
that
letter
,
for
she
had
written
at
the
end
how
she
had
found
the
true
worth
of
"
restraint
"
;
it
would
have
been
just
a
phrase
in
a
letter
if
I
had
not
remembered
,
as
she
must
have
when
she
wrote
it
,
that
the
word
had
a
context
,
and
that
the
context
lay
in
a
long
summer
afternoon
on
a
silent
reach
of
the
river
many
miles
from
Maidenhead
...
.
One
day
that
summer
I
had
suggested
to
her
that
,
as
the
world
was
becoming
a
nuisance
with
its
heat
and
dust
,
we
might
go
and
stay
on
the
river
for
a
few
days
,
but
she
had
said
,
quite
firmly
,
"
No
,
I
ca
n't
do
that
.
I
am
not
yet
old
enough
to
put
my
name
down
for
the
divorce
stakes
,
so
if
you
do
n't
mind
,
Dikran
,
we
will
call
that
bet
off
and
think
of
something
else
.
For
if
that
same
husband
heard
of
my
staying
on
the
river
with
a
young
man
of
uncelibate
eye
and
uncertain
occupation
,
he
would
at
once
take
steps
about
it
,
and
although
I
like
you
well
enough
as
a
man
,
I
could
n't
bear
you
as
a
co-respondent
...
.
But
if
you
really
do
want
to
stay
on
the
river
,
I
will
get
the
Hartshorns
to
ask
us
both
down
,
for
they
have
a
delightful
house
on
a
little
hill
,
from
which
you
can
see
the
twilight
creeping
over
the
Berkshire
downs
across
the
river
.
"
"
Oh
,
we
ca
n't
do
that
,
"
I
said
;
"
Guy
Hartshorn
is
such
a
stiffnecked
ass
and
his
wife
is
dull
enough
to
spoil
any
river
—
"
"
Tolerance
,
my
dear
,
is
what
you
lack
,
"
she
said
;
"
tolerance
and
a
proper
understanding
of
the
relation
between
a
stiffnecked
ass
and
a
possible
host
.
And
Guy
,
poor
dear
,
always
does
his
duty
by
his
guests
...
.
Please
do
n't
be
silly
about
it
,
Dikran
.
The
Hartshorns
distinctly
need
encouragement
as
hosts
,
so
you
and
I
will
go
down
and
encourage
them
.
And
if
you
can
manage
to
cloak
your
evil
thoughts
behind
a
hearty
manner
and
watch
Guy
as
he
swings
a
racing
punt
down
the
river
,
you
will
learn
more
about
punting
and
the
reason
why
Englishmen
are
generally
considered
to
be
superior
to
foreigners
than
I
could
teach
you
in
a
lifetime
.
"
We
had
been
two
days
at
the
house
on
the
little
hill
by
the
river
(
for
,
of
course
,
we
went
there
)
before
,
on
the
third
afternoon
,
after
lunch
,
our
chance
came
,
and
Shelmerdene
and
I
were
at
last
alone
on
the
river
;
I
had
not
the
energy
to
do
more
than
paddle
very
leisurely
and
look
from
here
to
there
,
but
always
in
the
end
to
come
back
to
the
woman
who
lay
facing
me
against
the
pale
green
cushions
of
the
Hartshorn
punt
,
steeped
in
the
happy
sunshine
of
one
of
those
few
really
warm
days
which
England
now
and
again
manages
to
steal
from
the
molten
South
,
and
exhibits
in
a
new
green
and
golden
loveliness
.
From
round
a
bend
of
the
river
we
could
quite
clearly
see
the
ivy-covered
Georgian
house
of
our
host
,
perched
imperiously
up
on
the
top
of
its
little
hill
,
but
not
imperiously
enough
to
prevent
the
outlet
of
two
days
'
impatience
in
the
curse
I
vented
on
it
.
"
Little
man
with
little
toy
wants
big
toy
of
the
same
pattern
and
cries
when
he
ca
n't
have
it
,
"
she
mocked
me
,
and
smiled
away
my
bad
temper
,
which
had
only
a
shallow
root
in
impatience
.
But
I
would
not
let
it
go
all
at
once
,
for
man
is
allowed
licence
on
summer
afternoons
on
the
river
,
and
I
challenged
her
to
say
if
she
did
not
know
of
better
ways
of
spending
the
whole
glorious
time
between
dinner
and
midnight
than
by
playing
bridge
,
"
as
we
tiresomely
do
at
the
house
on
the
hill
,
much
to
the
delight
of
that
sombre
weeping
elm
which
looks
in
at
the
window
and
can
then
share
the
burden
of
its
complaining
leaves
with
my
pessimistic
soul
.
"
"
We
will
leave
your
soul
severely
alone
for
the
moment
,
but
as
for
playing
bridge
,
I
think
it
is
very
good
for
you
,
"
she
said
.
"
It
is
very
good
for
you
to
call
three
No
Trumps
,
and
be
doubled
by
some
one
who
wo
n't
stand
any
nonsense
,
and
go
down
four
hundred
or
so
.
It
teaches
you
restraint
.
"
"
Restraint
,
"
I
said
,
"
is
the
Englishman
's
art
of
concealing
his
emotions
in
such
a
way
that
every
one
can
guess
exactly
what
they
are
.
And
I
have
acquired
it
so
perfectly
that
you
know
very
well
that
only
the
other
day
you
told
me
how
you
admired
my
restraint
,
and
how
I
would
never
say
to
a
man
's
face
what
I
could
n't
say
just
as
well
behind
his
back
.
"
But
she
did
not
answer
,
and
in
silence
I
pulled
into
a
little
aimless
backwater
,
and
moored
by
a
willow
which
let
through
just
enough
sun
to
speck
Shelmerdene
's
dress
with
bright
arabesques
.
I
changed
my
seat
for
the
cushions
and
lay
full
length
in
front
of
Shelmerdene
,
but
it
was
as
though
she
had
become
part
of
the
river
,
she
was
so
silent
.
I
said
something
,
I
ca
n't
remember
what
it
was
,
but
it
must
have
suited
the
day
and
my
mood
.
I
could
not
see
her
face
because
she
had
turned
it
towards
the
bank
and
it
was
hidden
under
the
brim
of
her
pale
blue
hat
,
but
when
my
words
had
broken
the
quietness
and
she
turned
it
towards
me
,
I
was
surprised
at
the
firm
set
of
her
lips
and
the
sadness
of
her
smile
.
"
You
are
making
love
to
me
,
and
that
is
quite
as
it
should
be
,
"
she
said
.
"
But
on
the
most
beautiful
of
all
days
I
have
the
saddest
thoughts
,
for
though
you
laughed
at
me
when
I
talked
about
restraint
,
I
was
really
very
serious
indeed
.
I
know
a
lot
about
restraint
,
my
dear
,
and
how
the
lack
of
it
can
make
life
suddenly
very
horrible
...
for
once
upon
a
time
I
killed
an
old
man
because
I
did
n't
know
the
line
between
my
desires
and
his
endurance
.
"
She
shook
her
head
at
me
gently
.
"
No
,
that
wo
n't
do
,
Dikran
.
You
were
going
to
say
something
pretty
about
my
good
manners
,
but
that
is
all
so
much
play-acting
,
and
,
besides
,
good
manners
are
my
trade
and
profession
,
and
without
them
I
should
long
ago
have
been
down
and
under
,
as
I
deserve
to
be
much
more
than
Emma
Hamilton
ever
did
...
.
The
tragedy
about
people
like
me
is
that
we
step
into
life
at
the
deep
end
and
find
only
the
shallow
people
there
,
and
when
we
meet
some
one
really
deep
and
very
sincere
,
like
that
old
man
,
we
rather
resent
it
,
for
we
ca
n't
gauge
him
by
the
standards
we
use
for
each
other
.
Men
like
that
bring
a
sudden
reality
into
life
,
but
the
reality
is
unacceptable
and
always
ugly
because
it
is
forced
upon
one
,
while
the
only
realities
that
are
beautiful
are
those
that
were
born
in
your
heart
when
you
were
born
;
just
like
your
country
for
you
,
which
you
have
never
seen
and
may
never
see
,
and
yet
has
been
your
main
reality
in
life
since
you
were
born
;
a
reality
as
sad
and
beautiful
as
the
ancestral
memories
which
must
lurk
somewhere
in
you
,
but
which
you
ca
n't
express
because
you
have
not
learnt
yet
how
to
be
really
natural
with
yourself
.
And
when
you
have
learnt
that
you
will
have
learnt
the
secret
of
great
writing
,
for
literature
is
the
natural
raw
material
which
every
man
secretes
within
himself
,
but
only
a
few
can
express
it
to
the
world
.
But
I
may
be
wrong
about
all
that
,
and
anyway
you
must
know
a
great
deal
more
about
great
thinking
and
great
writing
than
I
do
,
for
you
have
read
about
it
in
dull
books
while
I
have
only
sensed
it
in
my
trivial
way
...
.
"
"
Shelmerdene
,
I
want
to
hear
about
your
old
man
,
"
I
said
,
"
whom
you
say
you
killed
.
But
that
is
only
your
way
of
saying
that
he
was
in
love
with
you
,
and
that
you
hurt
him
so
much
that
he
died
of
it
.
"
"
Ah
,
if
it
had
been
only
that
I
would
not
be
so
sad
this
afternoon
!
In
fact
,
I
would
not
be
sad
at
all
,
for
he
was
old
and
had
to
die
,
and
all
that
about
love
and
being
hurt
is
fair
and
open
warfare
.
But
it
was
something
much
beastlier
than
that
,
something
animal
in
me
,
which
will
make
me
ashamed
whenever
I
think
of
that
day
when
we
three
gave
our
horses
rein
down
to
the
Breton
coast
,
and
I
turned
on
the
old
man
,
a
very
spitfire
of
a
girl
broken
loose
from
the
restraint
of
English
generations
,
forgetting
for
one
fierce
moment
that
her
saddle
was
not
covered
with
the
purple
of
a
Roman
Augusta
,
and
that
she
could
n't
do
as
she
liked
in
a
world
of
old
men
...
.
Have
you
ever
seen
a
quarrel
,
a
real
quarrel
,
Dikran
?
When
some
one
is
so
bitterly
and
intensely
angry
that
he
loses
all
hold
on
everything
but
his
wretched
desire
to
hurt
,
and
unchains
a
beast
which
in
a
second
maims
him
as
deeply
as
his
enemy
—
no
,
it
maims
him
more
.
"
The
old
Frenchman
was
my
guardian
,
"
she
said
,
"
and
the
last
of
a
name
which
you
can
find
here
and
there
in
Court
Memoirs
,
in
the
thick
of
that
riot
of
gallantry
and
intrigue
which
passed
for
life
at
old
Versailles
.
But
the
world
has
grown
out
of
that
and
does
things
much
better
now
,
for
gallantry
has
been
scattered
to
the
four
winds
of
democracy
and
is
the
navvy
's
part
as
much
as
the
gentleman
's
,
while
intrigue
has
become
the
monopoly
of
the
few
darling
old
men
who
lead
governments
,
more
as
a
way
of
amusing
their
daughters
than
for
any
special
purpose
of
their
own
.
But
if
the
world
has
grown
old
since
then
so
had
my
old
man
,
for
he
was
none
of
your
rigid-minded
cidevant
aristos
whom
you
can
see
any
day
at
the
Ritz
keeping
up
appearances
on
an
occasional
cocktail
and
the
use
of
the
hotel
note-paper
;
but
the
air
of
the
grand
seigneur
had
n't
weathered
proscriptions
and
revolutions
for
nothing
,
and
so
still
clung
rather
finely
to
him
in
spite
of
himself
,
and
made
him
seem
as
old
and
faded
as
his
ancestors
in
the
world
in
which
he
had
to
live
,
poor
old
dear
!
It
was
cruel
of
that
other
nice
old
gentleman
above
him
to
put
him
through
the
ordeal
,
for
he
did
so
bitterly
and
genuinely
resent
a
world
in
which
honour
was
second
to
most
things
and
above
nothing
.
He
could
n't
forgive
,
you
see
.
He
could
n't
forgive
himself
,
nor
France
,
nor
God
,
but
especially
he
could
n't
forgive
France
.
Sedan
,
revolution
,
republic
—
and
no
Turenne
or
Bonaparte
to
thrash
a
Moltke
with
the
flat
of
his
sword
,
for
he
was
n't
worth
more
!
And
all
a
France
could
muster
were
the
trinkets
of
her
monde
and
demimonde
,
and
a
threatening
murmur
of
'
revanche
'
and
'
Alsace-Lorraine
'
—
as
though
threats
and
hatred
could
wipe
out
the
memory
of
that
day
of
surrender
at
Sedan
,
when
he
stood
not
ten
yards
away
among
only
too
polite
Prussian
aides-de-camp
while
Napoleon
put
the
seal
on
his
last
mistake
,
and
signed
away
an
empire
...
.
And
allowing
for
exaggeration
,
and
the
white-hot
excitement
to
which
folk
who
fuss
about
honour
,
etc.
,
are
liable
,
there
may
have
been
something
in
his
point
of
view
about
it
all
,
for
I
once
heard
a
man
with
a
lot
of
letters
behind
his
name
say
that
when
a
country
gives
up
a
limb
it
also
gives
up
its
body
;
but
he
may
have
been
wrong
,
for
after
all
France
is
still
France
!
"
But
you
would
have
adored
my
old
man
,
Dikran
,
just
as
I
did
.
He
treated
life
,
and
men
,
and
women
with
all
that
etiquette
which
you
so
admire
,
he
was
simply
bristling
with
etiquette
—
a
deal
too
much
of
it
for
my
taste
,
for
I
was
only
seventeen
then
and
liked
my
freedom
like
any
other
Englander
...
.
But
I
'm
finding
it
very
difficult
to
describe
the
man
he
was
,
my
dear
,
for
in
our
slovenly
sort
of
English
we
've
got
used
to
describing
a
person
by
saying
he
is
like
another
person
,
and
I
ca
n't
do
that
in
this
case
because
he
belongs
as
much
to
a
past
age
as
Hannibal
,
and
there
is
n't
any
one
like
him
now
.
And
even
when
he
was
alive
there
were
very
few
—
two
or
three
old
men
as
fierce
and
unyielding
and
vital
as
himself
,
who
used
to
come
and
dine
,
and
say
pretty
things
to
little
me
who
sat
at
the
end
of
the
table
with
very
large
eyes
and
fast-beating
heart
,
wondering
why
they
were
n't
all
leading
Cabinets
and
squashing
revolutions
,
for
they
seemed
to
know
the
secrets
of
every
secret
cabal
and
camarilla
in
Europe
.
"
Yes
,
my
old
guardian
was
a
remnant
of
an
empire
—
but
what
a
remnant
!
Such
a
fierce-looking
little
man
he
was
,
with
pale
,
steel-blue
eyes
which
pierced
into
you
from
under
a
precipice
of
a
forehead
,
a
bristling
Second
Empire
moustache
,
and
thin
bloodless
lips
which
parted
before
the
most
exquisite
French
I
've
ever
heard
;
I
can
scarcely
bear
it
when
you
say
I
talk
French
divinely
,
for
I
know
how
pitiful
mine
is
compared
to
the
real
thing
,
as
done
by
that
old
man
and
Sarah
Bernhardt
,
for
they
were
very
old
friends
and
she
used
often
to
come
and
lunch
with
us
.
"
He
talked
well
,
too
,
and
all
the
better
for
having
something
to
say
,
as
well
he
might
have
since
he
had
been
everything
and
known
every
one
worth
knowing
of
his
time
—
ministers
,
and
rebels
,
and
artists
,
and
all
the
best-known
prostitutes
of
the
day
;
but
they
did
those
things
better
then
,
Dikran
.
In
fact
,
more
as
an
excuse
for
getting
away
from
a
parvenu
Paris
than
from
any
Bonapartist
feelings
,
for
he
was
always
an
Orleanist
,
I
think
he
had
represented
Louis
Napoleon
at
every
city
which
could
run
to
an
Embassy
from
London
to
Pekin
;
from
where
he
brought
back
that
ivory
Buddha
which
is
on
my
writing-table
,
and
which
has
an
inscription
in
ancient
Chinese
saying
that
every
man
is
his
own
god
,
but
that
Buddha
is
every
man
's
God
,
which
goes
a
long
way
to
prove
that
the
wisdom
of
the
East
was
n't
as
wise
as
all
that
,
after
all
.
"
But
you
are
getting
restless
,
"
she
said
suddenly
.
"
You
probably
want
to
open
the
tea-basket
to
see
what
's
inside
,
or
you
've
just
seen
a
water
rat
—
—
"
"
No
,
it
's
a
little
more
subtle
than
that
,
Shelmerdene
,
although
as
a
fact
I
do
see
a
water
rat
not
a
yard
from
you
on
the
bank
...
.
I
merely
wanted
to
know
how
it
was
that
,
since
you
had
a
perfectly
good
father
alive
in
England
,
you
were
allowed
to
go
gadding
about
in
France
with
a
guardian
,
soi-disant
—
—
"
"
We
will
ignore
your
soi-disant
,
young
man
.
But
I
'll
allow
your
interruption
,
for
it
may
seem
a
bit
complicated
...
.
It
was
like
this
:
as
the
fortunes
of
our
family
had
run
rather
to
seed
through
generations
of
fast
women
and
slow
horses
,
my
father
who
was
utterly
a
pet
,
succumbed
to
politics
for
an
honest
living
,
or
,
if
you
pull
a
face
like
that
about
it
,
for
a
dishonest
living
.
For
up
to
that
time
,
in
spite
of
having
exactly
the
figure
for
it
,
he
had
always
refused
to
enter
Parliament
,
because
his
idea
was
that
the
House
was
just
a
club
,
and
one
already
belonged
to
so
many
better
clubs
.
But
once
there
nothing
could
stop
him
,
and
when
he
entered
for
the
Cabinet
stakes
he
simply
romped
home
with
a
soft
job
and
a
fat
income
...
.
But
all
that
is
really
beside
the
point
,
for
between
politics
and
guineas
father
and
I
had
had
a
slight
disagreement
about
a
certain
young
man
whom
I
was
inclined
to
marry
offhand
,
being
only
sixteen
,
you
know
,
and
liking
the
young
man
—
and
,
of
course
,
my
father
did
the
correct
thing
,
as
he
always
did
,
gave
the
young
man
a
glass
of
port
and
told
him
not
to
be
an
ass
,
and
shipped
me
off
to
Paris
to
his
very
old
friend
.
You
see
,
he
knew
about
that
old
Marquis
,
and
how
I
'd
be
quite
safe
in
his
care
,
for
any
young
man
who
as
much
as
looked
at
me
would
have
a
pair
of
gimlet
eyes
asking
him
who
the
devil
he
might
be
and
why
he
chose
to
desecrate
a
young
lady
's
virginal
beauty
by
his
so
fatuous
gaze
.
"
I
've
been
saying
a
lot
of
nice
things
about
that
old
man
to
you
,
but
I
did
n't
feel
quite
like
that
about
him
at
the
time
.
I
liked
him
,
of
course
,
because
he
was
a
man
;
but
all
that
French
business
about
the
sanctity
of
a
young
maid
's
innocence
got
badly
on
my
nerves
,
for
innocence
was
never
my
long
suit
even
from
childhood
,
having
ears
to
hear
and
eyes
to
see
;
and
I
soon
began
to
get
very
bored
with
life
as
my
old
Frenchman
saw
it
.
So
it
was
n't
surprising
that
I
broke
out
now
and
again
just
to
shock
him
,
he
was
