the island pharisees- 第16部分

matters　is　to　have　an　ideal；　and　to　keep　it　so　safe　that　you　can

always　look　forward　and　feel　that　you　have　beenI　can't　exactly

express　my　meaning。



Shelton　lit　a　cigarette　and　frowned。　　It　seemed　to　him　queer　that　she

should　set　more　store　by　an　〃ideal〃　than　by　the　fact　that　they　had

met　for　the　first　and　only　time　in　many　weeks。



〃I　suppose　she　's　right；〃　he　thoughts〃I　suppose　she　's　right。　　I

ought　not　to　have　tried　to　speak　to　her！〃　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　he

did　not　at　all　feel　that　she　was　right。









CHAPTER　XIII



AN　〃AT　HOME〃



On　Tuesday　morning　he　wandered　off　to　Paddington；　hoping　for　a　chance

view　of　her　on　her　way　down　to　Holm　Oaks；　but　the　sense　of　the

ridiculous；　on　which　he　had　been　nurtured；　was　strong　enough　to　keep

him　from　actually　entering　the　station　and　lurking　about　until　she

came。　　With　a　pang　of　disappointment　he　retraced　his　steps　from　Praed

Street　to　the　Park；　and　once　there　tried　no　further　to　waylay　her。

He　paid　a　round　of　calls　in　the　afternoon；　mostly　on　her　relations；

and；　seeking　out　Aunt　Charlotte；　he　dolorously　related　his　encounter

in　the　Row。　　But　she　found　it　〃rather　nice；〃　and　on　his　pressing　her

with　his　views；　she　murmured　that　it　was　〃quite　romantic；　don't　you

know。〃



〃Still；　it's　very　hard；〃　said　Shelton；　and　he　went　away　disconsolate。



As　he　was　dressing　for　dinner　his　eye　fell　on　a　card　announcing　the

〃at　home〃　of　one　of　his　own　cousins。　　Her　husband　was　a　composer；　and

he　had　a　vague　idea　that　he　would　find　at　the　house　of　a　composer

some　quite　unusually　free　kind　of　atmosphere。　　After　dining　at　the

club；　therefore；　he　set　out　for　Chelsea。　　The　party　was　held　in　a

large　room　on　the　ground…floor；　which　was　already　crowded　with　people

when　Shelton　entered。　　They　stood　or　sat　about　in　groups　with　smiles

fixed　on　their　lips；　and　the　light　from　balloon…like　lamps　fell　in

patches　on　their　heads　and　hands　and　shoulders。　　Someone　had　just

finished　rendering　on　the　piano　a　composition　of　his　own。　　An　expert

could　at　once　have　picked　out　from　amongst　the　applauding　company

those　who　were　musicians　by　profession；　for　their　eyes　sparkled；　and

a　certain　acidity　pervaded　their　enthusiasm。　　This　freemasonry　of

professional　intolerance　flew　from　one　to　the　other　like　a　breath　of

unanimity；　and　the　faint　shrugging　of　shoulders　was　as　harmonious　as

though　one　of　the　high　windows　had　been　opened　suddenly；　admitting　a

draught　of　chill　May　air。



Shelton　made　his　way　up　to　his　cousina　fragile；　grey…haired　woman

in　black　velvet　and　Venetian　lace；　whose　starry　eyes　beamed　at　him；

until　her　duties；　after　the　custom　of　these　social　gatherings；

obliged　her　to　break　off　conversation　just　as　it　began　to　interest

him。　　He　was　passed　on　to　another　lady　who　was　already　talking　to　two

gentlemen；　and；　their　volubility　being　greater　than　his　own；　he　fell

into　the　position　of　observer。　　Instead　of　the　profound　questions　he

had　somehow　expected　to　hear　raised；　everybody　seemed　gossiping；　or

searching　the　heart　of　such　topics　as　where　to　go　this　summer；　or　how

to　get　new　servants。　　Trifling　with　coffee…cups；　they　dissected　their

fellow　artists　in　the　same　way　as　his　society　friends　of　the　other

night　had　dissected　the　fellow〃smart〃；　and　the　varnish　on　the

floor；　the　pictures；　and　the　piano　were　reflected　on　all　the　faces

around。　　Shelton　moved　from　group　to　group　disconsolate。



A　tall；　imposing　person　stood　under　a　Japanese　print　holding　the　palm

of　one　hand　outspread；　his　unwieldy　trunk　and　thin　legs　wobbled　in

concert　to　his　ingratiating　voice。



〃War；〃　he　was　saying；　〃is　not　necessary。　　War　is　not　necessary。　　I

hope　I　make　myself　clear。　　War　is　not　necessary；　it　depends　on

nationality；　but　nationality　is　not　necessary。〃　　He　inclined　his　head

to　one　side；　〃Why　do　we　have　nationality？　　Let　us　do　away　with

boundarieslet　us　have　the　warfare　of　commerce。　　If　I　see　France

looking　at　Brighton〃he　laid　his　head　upon　one　side；　and　beamed　at

Shelton；〃what　do　I　do？　　Do　I　say　'Hands　off'？　　No。　　'Take　it；'

I　saytake　it！'〃　　He　archly　smiled。　　〃But　do　you　think　they　would？〃



And　the　softness　of　his　contours　fascinated　Shelton。



〃The　soldier；〃　the　person　underneath　the　print　resumed；　〃is

necessarily　on　a　lower　planeintellectuallyoh；　intellectually

than　the　philanthropist。　　His　sufferings　are　less　acute；　he　enjoys

the　compensations　of　advertisementyou　admit　that？〃　he　breathed

persuasively。　　〃For　instanceI　am　quite　impersonalI　suffer；　but　do

I　talk　about　it？〃　　But；　someone　gazing　at　his　well…filled　waistcoat；

he　put　his　thesis　in　another　form：　〃I　have　one　acre　and　one　cow；　my

brother　has　one　acre　and　one　cow：　do　I　seek　to　take　them　away　from

him？〃



Shelton　hazarded；　〃Perhaps　you　're　weaker　than　your　brother。〃



〃Come；　come！　　Take　the　case　of　women：　now；　I　consider　our　marriage

laws　are　barbarous。〃



For　the　first　time　Shelton　conceived　respect　for　them；　he　made　a

comprehensive　gesture；　and　edged　himself　into　the　conversation　of

another　group；　for　fear　of　having　all　his　prejudices　overturned。

Here　an　Irish　sculptor；　standing　in　a　curve；　was　saying　furiously；

〃Bees　are　not　bhumpkins；　d…n　their　sowls！　　〃A　Scotch　painter；　who

listened　with　a　curly　smile；　seemed　trying　to　compromise　this

proposition；　which　appeared　to　have　relation　to　the　middle　classes；

and　though　agreeing　with　the　Irishman；　Shelton　felt　nervous　over　his

discharge　of　electricity。　　Next　to　them　two　American　ladies；

assembled　under　the　tent　of　hair　belonging　to　a　writer　of　songs；　were

discussing　the　emotions　aroused　in　them　by　Wagner's　operas。



〃They　produce　a　strange　condition　of　affairs　in　me；〃　said　the　thinner

one。



〃They　're　just　divine；〃　said　the　fatter。



〃I　don't　know　if　you　can　call　the　fleshly　lusts　divine；〃　replied　the

thinner；　looking　into　the　eyes　of　the　writer　of　the　songs。



Amidst　all　the　hum　of　voices　and　the　fumes　of　smoke；　a　sense　of

formality　was　haunting　Shelton。　　Sandwiched　between　a　Dutchman　and　a

Prussian　poet；　he　could　understand　neither　of　his　neighbours；　so；

assuming　an　intelligent　expression；　he　fell　to　thinking　that　an

assemblage　of　free　spirits　is　as　much　bound　by　the　convention　of

exchanging　their　ideas　as　commonplace　people　are　by　the　convention　of

having　no　ideas　to　traffic　in。　　He　could　not　help　wondering　whether；

in　the　bulk；　they　were　not　just　as　dependent　on　each　other　as　the

inhabitants　of　Kensington；　whether；　like　locomotives；　they　could　run

at　all　without　these　opportunities　for　blowing　off　the　steam；　and

what　would　be　left　when　the　steam　had　all　escaped。　　Somebody　ceased

playing　the　violin；　and　close　to　him　a　group　began　discussing　ethics。

Aspirations　were　in　the　air　all　round；　like　a　lot　of　hungry　ghosts。

He　realised　that；　if　tongue　be　given　to　them；　the　flavour　vanishes

from　ideas　which　haunt　the　soul。



Again　the　violinist　played。



〃Cock　gracious！〃　　said　the　Prussian　poet；　falling　into　English　as　the

fiddle　ceased：　〃Colossal！　　'Aber；　wie　er　ist　grossartig'！〃



〃Have　you　read　that　thing　of　Besom's？〃　asked　shrill　voice　behind。



〃Oh；　my　dear　fellow！　too　horrid　for　words；　he　ought　to　be　hanged！〃



〃The　man's　dreadful；〃　pursued　the　voice；　shriller　than　ever；　〃nothing

but　a　volcanic　eruption　would　cure　him。〃



Shelton　turned　in　alarm　to　look　at　the　authors　of　these　statements。

They　were　two　men　of　letters　talking　of　a　third。



〃'C'est　un　grand　naif；　vous　savez；'〃　said　the　second　speaker。



〃These　fellows　don't　exist；〃　resumed　the　first；　his　small　eyes

gleamed　with　a　green　light；　his　whole　face　had　a　look　as　if　he　gnawed

himself。　　Though　not　a　man　of　letters；　Shelton　could　not　help

recognising　from　those　eyes　what　joy　it　was　to　say　those　words：

〃These　fellows　don't　exist！〃



〃Poor　Besom！　　You　know　what　Moulter　said　。　　。　　。〃



Shelton　turned　away；　as　if　he　had　been　too　close　to　one　whose　hair

smelt　of　cantharides；　and；　looking　round　the　room；　he　frowned。　　With

the　exception　of　his　cousin；　he　seemed　the　only　person　there　of

English　blood。　　Americans；　Mesopotamians；　Irish；　Italians；　Germans；

Scotch；　and　Russians。　　He　was　not　contemptuous　of　them　for　being

foreigners；　it　was　simply　that　God　and　the　climate　had　made　him

different　by　a　skin　or　so。



But　at　this　point　his　conclusions　were　denied　（as　will　sometimes

happen）　by　his　introduction　to　an　Englishmana　Major　Somebody；　who；

with　smooth　hair　and　blond　moustache；　neat　eyes　and　neater　clothes；

seemed　a　little　anxious　at　his　own　presence　there。　　Shelton　took　a

liking　to　him；　partly　from　a　fellow…feeling；　and　partly　because　of

the　gentle　smile　with　which　he　was　looking　at　his　wife。　　Almost

before　he　had　said　〃How　do　you　do？〃　he　was　plunged　into　a　discussion

on　imperialism。



〃Admitting　all　that；〃　said　Shelton；　〃　what　I　hate　is　the　humbug　with

which　we　pride　ourselves　on　benefiting　the　whole　world　by　our　so…

called　civilising　methods。〃



The　soldier　turned　his　reasonable　eyes。



〃But　is　it　humbug？〃



Shelton　saw　his　argument　in　peril。　　If　we　really　thought　it；　was　it

humbug？　　He　replied；　however：



〃Why　should　we；　a　small　portion　of　the　world's　population；　assume

that　our　standards　are　the　proper　ones　for　every　kind　of　race？　　If

it　's　not　humbug；　it　's　sheer　stupidity。〃



The　soldier；　without　taking　his　hands　out　of　his　pockets；　but　by　a

forward　movement　of　his　face　showing　that　he　was　both　sincere　and

just；　re…replied：



〃Well；　it　must　be　a　good　sort　of　stupidity；　it　makes　us　the　nation

that　we　are。〃



Shelton　felt　dazed。　　The　conversation　buzzed　around　him；　he　heard　the

smiling　prophet　saying；　〃Altruism；　altruism；〃　and　in　his　voice　a

something　seemed　to　murmur；　〃Oh；　I　do　so　hope　I　make　a　good

impression！〃



He　looked　at　the　soldier's　clear…cut　head　with　its　well…opened　eyes；

the　tiny　crow's…feet　at　their　corners；　the　conventional　moustache；　he

envied　the　certainty　of　the　convictions　lying　under　that　well…parted

hair。



〃I　would