The Man Without a Temperament

by Katherine Mansfield

He stood at the hall door turning the ring, turning the heavy signet ring uponhis little finger while his glance travelled coolly, deliberately, over theround tables and basket chairs scattered about the glassed-in veranda. He pursedhis lips - he might have been going to whistle - but he did not whistle - onlyturned the ring - turned the ring on his pink, freshly washed hands.Over in the corner sat The Two Topknots, drinking a decoction they always drankat this hour - something whitish, greyish, in glasses, with little husksfloating on the top - and rooting in a tin full of paper shavings for pieces ofspeckled biscuit, which they broke, dropped into the glasses and fished for withspoons. Their two coils of knitting, like two snakes, slumbered beside the tray.The American Woman sat where she always sat against the glass wall, in theshadow of a great creeping thing with wide open purple eyes that pressed - thatflattened itself against the glass, hungrily watching her. And she knoo it wasthere - she knoo it was looking at her just that way. She played up to it; shegave herself little airs. Sometimes she even pointed at it, crying: "Isn't thatthe most terrible thing you've ever seen! Isn't that ghoulish!" It was on theother side of the veranda, after all ... and besides it couldn't touch her,could it, Klaymongso? She was an American Woman, wasn't she, Klaymongso, andshe'd just go right away to her Consul. Klaymongso, curled in her lap, with hertorn antique brocade bag, a grubby handkerchief, and a pile of letters from homeon top of him, sneezed for reply.The other tables were empty. A glance passed between the American and theTopknots. She gave a foreign little shrug; they waved an understanding biscuit.But he saw nothing. Now he was still, now from his eyes you saw he listened."Hoo-e-zip-zoo-oo!" sounded the lift. The iron cage clanged open. Light draggingsteps sounded across the hall, coming towards him. A hand, like a leaf, fell onhis shoulder. A soft voice said: "Let's go and sit over there - where we can seethe drive. The trees are so lovely." And he moved forward with the hand still onhis shoulder, and the light, dragging steps beside his. He pulled out a chairand she sank into it, slowly, leaning her head against the back, her armsfalling along the sides."Won't you bring the other up closer? It's such miles away." But he did notmove."Where's your shawl?" he asked."Oh!" She gave a little groan of dismay. "How silly I am, I've left it upstairson the bed. Never mind. Please don't go for it. I shan't want it, I know Ishan't.""You'd better have it." And he turned and swiftly crossed the veranda into thedim hall with its scarlet plush and gilt furniture - conjuror's furniture - itsNotice of Services at the English Church, its green baize board with theunclaimed letters climbing the black lattice, huge "Presentation" clock thatstruck the hours at the half-hours, bundles of sticks and umbrellas andsunshades in the clasp of a brown wooden bear, past the two crippled palms, twoancient beggars at the foot of the staircase, up the marble stairs three at atime, past the life-size group on the landing of two stout peasant children withtheir marble pinnies full of marble grapes, and along the corridor, with itspiled-up wreckage of old tin boxes, leather trunks, canvas holdalls, to theirroom.The servant girl was in their room, singing loudly while she emptied soapy waterinto a pail. The windows were open wide, the shutters put back, and the lightglared in. She had thrown the carpets and the big white pillows over the balconyrails; the nets were looped up from the beds; on the writing-table there stood apan of fluff and match-ends. When she saw him her small, impudent eyes snappedand her singing changed to humming. But he gave no sign. His eyes searched theglaring room. Where the devil was the shawl!"Vous desirez, Monsieur? " mocked the servant girl.No answer. He had seen it. He strode across the room, grabbed the grey cobweband went out, banging the door. The servant girl's voice at its loudest andshrillest followed him along the corridor."Oh, there you are. What happened? What kept you? The tea's here, you see. I'vejust sent Antonio off for the hot water. Isn't it extraordinary? I must havetold him about it sixty times at least, and still he doesn't bring it. Thankyou. That's very nice. One does just feel the air when one bends forward.""Thanks." He took his tea and sat down in the other chair. "No, nothing to eat.""Oh do! Just one, you had so little at lunch and it's hours before dinner."Her shawl dropped off as she bent forward to hand him the biscuits. He took oneand put it in his saucer."Oh, those trees along the drive," she cried. "I could look at them for ever.They are like the most exquisite huge ferns. And you see that one with the grey-silver bark and the clusters of cream-coloured flowers, I pulled down a head ofthem yesterday to smell, and the scent" - she shut her eyes at the memory andher voice thinned away, faint, airy - "was like freshly ground nutmegs." Alittle pause. She turned to him and smiled. "You do know what nutmegs smell like- do you Robert?"And he smiled back at her. "Now how am I going to prove to you that I do?"Back came Antonio with not only the hot water - with letters on a salver andthree rolls of paper."Oh, the post! Oh, how lovely! Oh, Robert, they mustn't be all for you! Havethey just come, Antonio?" Her thin hands flew up and hovered over the lettersthat Antonio offered her, bending forward."Just this moment, Signora," grinned Antonio. "I took-a them from the postmanmyself. I made-a the postman give them for me.""Noble Antonio!" laughed she. "There - those are mine, Robert; the rest areyours."Antonio wheeled sharply, stiffened, the grin went out of his face. His stripedlinen jacket and his flat gleaming fringe made him look like a wooden doll.Mr. Salesby put the letters into his pocket; the papers lay on the table. Heturned the ring, turned the signet ring on his little finger and stared in frontof him, blinking, vacant.But she - with her teacup in one hand, the sheets of thin paper in the other,her head tilted back, her lips open, a brush of bright colour on her cheek-bones, sipped, sipped, drank ... drank."From Lottie," came her soft murmur. "Poor dear ... such trouble ... left foot.She thought ... neuritis ... Doctor Blyth ... flat foot ... massage. So manyrobins this year ... maid most satisfactory ... Indian Colonel ... every grainof rice separate ... very heavy fall of snow." And her wide lighted eyes lookedup from the letter. "Snow, Robert! Think of it!" And she touched the little darkviolets pinned on her thin bosom and went back to the letter.... Snow. Snow in London. Millie with the early morning cup of tea. "There'sbeen a terrible fall of snow in the night, sir." "Oh, has there, Millie?" Thecurtains ring apart, letting in the pale, reluctant light. He raises himself inthe bed; he catches a glimpse of the solid houses opposite framed in white, oftheir window boxes full of great sprays of white coral ... In the bathroom -overlooking the back garden. Snow - heavy snow over everything. The lawn iscovered with a wavy pattern of cat's-paws; there is a thick, thick icing on thegarden table; the withered pods of the laburnum tree are white tassels; onlyhere and there in the ivy is a dark leaf showing ... Warming his back at thedining-room fire, the paper drying over a chair. Millie with the bacon. "Oh,if you please, Sir, there's two little boys come as will do the steps and frontfor a shilling, shall I let them?" ... And then flying lightly, lightly down thestairs - Jinnie. "Oh, Robert, isn't it wonderful! Oh, what a pity it has tomelt. Where's the pussy-wee?" "I'll get him from Millie." ... "Millie, you mightjust hand me up the kitten if you've got him down there." "Very good, sir." Hefeels the little beating heart under his hand. "Come on, old chap, your missuswants you." "Oh, Robert, do show him the snow - his first snow. Shall I open thewindow and give him a little piece on his paw to hold? ...""Well, that's very satisfactory on the whole - very. Poor Lottie! Darling Anne!How I only wish I could send them something of this," she cried, waving herletters at the brilliant, dazzling garden. "More tea, Robert? Robert dear, moretea?""No, thanks, no. It was very good," he drawled."Well, mine wasn't. Mine was just like chopped hay. Oh, here comes the HoneymoonCouple."Half striding, half running, carrying a basket between them and rods and lines,they came up the drive, up the shallow steps."My! have you been out fishing?" cried the American Woman. They were out ofbreath, they panted: "Yes, yes, we have been out in a little boat all day. Wehave caught seven. Four are good to eat. But three we shall give away. To thechildren."Mrs. Salesby turned her chair to look; the Topknots laid the snakes down. Theywere a very dark young couple - black hair, olive skin, brilliant eyes andteeth. He was dressed "English fashion" in a flannel jacket, white trousers andshoes. Round his neck he wore a silk scarf; his head, with his hair brushedback, was bare. And he kept mopping his forehead, rubbing his hands with abrilliant handkerchief. Her white skirt had a patch of wet; her neck and throatwere stained a deep pink. When she lifted her arms big half-hoops ofperspiration showed under her arm-pits; her hair clung in wet curls to hercheeks. She looked as though her young husband had been dipping her in the seaand fishing her out again to dry in the sun and then - in with her again - allday."Would Klaymongso like a fish?" they cried. Their laughing voices charged withexcitement beat against the glassed-in veranda like birds and a strange, saltishsmell came from the basket."You will sleep well tonight," said a Topknot, picking her ear with a knittingneedle while the other Topknot smiled and nodded.The Honeymoon Couple looked at each other. A great wave seemed to go over them.They gasped, gulped, staggered a little and then came up laughing - laughing."We cannot go upstairs, we are too tired. We must have tea just as we are.Here - coffee. No - tea. No - coffee. Tea - coffee, Antonio!" Mrs. Salesbyturned."Robert! Robert!" Where was he? He wasn't there. Oh, there he was at the otherend of the veranda, with his back turned, smoking a cigarette. "Robert, shall wego for our little turn?""Right." He stumped the cigarette into an ash-tray and sauntered over, his eyeson the ground. "Will you be warm enough?""Oh, quite.""Sure?""Well," she put her hand on his arm, "perhaps" - and gave his arm the faintestpressure - "it's not upstairs, it's only in the hall - perhaps you'd get me mycape. Hanging up."He came back with it and she bent her small head while he dropped it on hershoulders. Then, very stiff, he offered her his arm. She bowed sweetly to thepeople of the veranda while he just covered a yawn, and they went down the stepstogether."Vous avez voo ca! " said the American Woman."He is not a man," said the Two Topknots, "he is an ox. I say to my sister inthe morning and at night when we are in bed, I tell her - No man is he, but anox!"Wheeling, tumbling, swooping, the laughter of the Honeymoon Couple dashedagainst the glass of the veranda.The sun was still high. Every leaf, every flower in the garden lay open,motionless, as if exhausted, and a sweet, rich, rank smell filled the quiveringair. Out of the thick, fleshy leaves of a cactus there rose an aloe stem loadedwith pale flowers that looked as though they had been cut out of butter; lightflashed upon the lifted spears of the palms; over a bed of scarlet waxen flowerssome black insects "zoom - zoomed"; a great, gaudy creeper, orange splashed withjet, sprawled against the wall."I don't need my cape after all," said she. "It's really too warm." So he tookit off and carried it over his arm. "Let us go down this path here. I feel sowell today - marvellously better. Good heavens - look at those children! And tothink it's November!"In a corner of the garden there were two brimming tubs of water. Three littlegirls, having thoughtfully taken off their drawers and hung them on a bush,their skirts clasped to their waists, were standing in the tubs and tramping upand down. They screamed, their hair fell over their faces, they splashed oneanother. But suddenly, the smallest, who had a tub to herself, glanced up andsaw who was looking. For a moment she seemed overcome with terror, then clumsilyshe struggled and strained out of her tub, and still holding her clothes aboveher waist, "The Englishman! The Englishman!" she shrieked and fled away tohide. Shrieking and screaming the other two followed her. In a moment they weregone; in a moment there was nothing but the two brimming tubs and their littledrawers on the bush."How - very - extraordinary!" said she. "What made them so frightened? Surelythey were much too young to ..." She looked up at him. She thought he lookedpale - but wonderfully handsome with that great tropical tree behind him withits long, spiked thorns.For a moment he did not answer. Then he met her glance, and smiling his slowsmile, "Tres rum!" said he.Tres rum! Oh, she felt quite faint. Oh, why should she love him so much justbecause he said a thing like that. Tres rum! That was Robert all over. Nobodyelse but Robert could ever say such a thing. To be so wonderful, so brilliant,so learned, and then to say in that queer, boyish voice ... She could have wept."You know you're very absurd, sometimes," said she."I am," he answered. And they walked on.But she was tired. She had had enough. She did not want to walk any more."Leave me here and go for a little constitutional, won't you? I'll be in one ofthese long chairs. What a good thing you've got my cape; you won't have to goupstairs for a rug. Thank you, Robert, I shall look at that deliciousheliotrope ... You won't be gone long?""No - no. You don't mind being left?""Silly! I want you to go. I can't expect you to drag after your invalid wifeevery minute ... How long will you be?"He took out his watch. "It's just after half-past four. I'll be back at aquarter-past five.""Back at a quarter-past five," she repeated, and she lay still in the long chairand folded her hands.He turned away. Suddenly he was back again. "Look here, would you like mywatch?" And he dangled it before her."Oh!" She caught her breath. "Very, very much." And she clasped the watch, thewarm watch, the darling watch in her fingers. "Now go quickly."The gates of the Pension Villa Excelsior were open wide, jammed open againstsome bold geraniums. Stooping a little, staring straight ahead, walking swiftly,he passed through them and began climbing the hill that wound behind the townlike a great rope looping the villas together. The dust lay thick. A carriagecame bowling along driving towards the Excelsior. In it sat the General and theCountess; they had been for his daily airing. Mr. Salesby stepped to one sidebut the dust beat up, thick, white, stifling like wool. The Countess just hadtime to nudge the General."There he goes," she said spitefully.But the General gave a loud caw and refused to look."It is the Englishman," said the driver, turning round and smiling. And theCountess threw up her hands and nodded so amiably that he spat with satisfactionand gave the stumbling horse a cut.On - on - past the finest villas in the town, magnificent palaces, palaces worthcoming any distance to see, past the public gardens with the carved grottoes andstatues and stone animals drinking at the fountain, into a poorer quarter. Herethe road ran narrow and foul between high lean houses, the ground floors ofwhich were scooped and hollowed into stables and carpenters' shops. At afountain ahead of him two old hags were beating linen. As he passed them theysquatted back on their haunches, stared, and then their "A-hak-kak-kak!" withthe slap, slap, of the stone on the linen sounded after him.He reached the top of the hill; he turned a corner and the town was hidden. Downhe looked into a deep valley with a dried-up river bed at the bottom. This sideand that was covered with small dilapidated houses that had broken stoneverandas where the fruit lay drying, tomato lanes in the garden and from thegates to the doors a trellis of vines. The late sunlight, deep, golden, lay inthe cup of the valley; there was a smell of charcoal in the air. In the gardensthe men were cutting grapes. He watched a man standing in the greenish shade,raising up, holding a black cluster in one hand, taking the knife from his belt,cutting, laying the bunch in a flat boat-shaped basket. The man workedleisurely, silently, taking hundreds of years over the job. On the hedges on theother side of the road there were grapes small as berries, growing among thestones. He leaned against a wall, filled his pipe, put a match to it ...Leaned across a gate, turned up the collar of his mackintosh. It was going torain. It didn't matter, he was prepared for it. You didn't expect anything elsein November. He looked over the bare field. From the corner by the gate therecame the smell of swedes, a great stack of them, wet, rank coloured. Two menpassed walking towards the straggling village. "Good day!" "Good day!" By Jove!he had to hurry if he was going to catch that train home. Over the gate, acrossa field, over the stile, into the lane, swinging along in the drifting rain anddusk .. . . Just home in time for a bath and a change before supper ... In thedrawing-room; Jinnie is sitting pretty nearly in the fire. "Oh, Robert, I didn'thear you come in. Did you have a good time? How nice you smell! A present?""Some bits of blackberry I picked for you. Pretty colour." "Oh, lovely, Robert!Dennis and Beaty are coming to supper." Supper-cold beef, potatoes in theirjackets, claret, household bread. They are gay - everybody's laughing. "Oh,we all know Robert," says Dennis, breathing on his eyeglasses and polishingthem. "By the way, Dennis, I picked up a very jolly little edition of ..."A clock struck. He wheeled sharply. What time was it. Five? A quarter past?Back, back the way he came. As he passed through the gates he saw her on thelook-out. She got up, waved and slowly she came to meet him, dragging the heavycape. In her hand she carried a spray of heliotrope."You're late," she cried gaily. "You're three minutes late. Here's your watch,it's been very good while you were away. Did you have a nice time? Was itlovely? Tell me. Where did you go?""I say - put this on," he said, taking the cape from her. "Yes, I will. Yes,it's getting chilly. Shall we go up to our room?"When they reached the lift she was coughing. He frowned."It's nothing. I haven's been out too late. Don't be cross." She sat down on oneof the red plush chairs while he rang and rang, and then, getting no answer,kept his finger on the bell."Oh, Robert, do you think you ought to?""Ought to what?"The door of the salon opened. "What is that? Who is making that noise?"sounded from within. Klaymongso began to yelp. "Caw! Caw! Caw!" came from theGeneral. A Topknot darted out with one hand to her ear, opened the staff door,"Mr. Queet! Mr. Queet!" she bawled. That brought the manager up at a run."Is that you ringing the bell, Mr. Salesby? Do you want the lift? Very good,sir. I'll take you up myself. Antonio wouldn't have been a minute, he was justtaking off his apron--" And having ushered them in, the oily manager went to thedoor of the salon. "Very sorry you should have been troubled, ladies andgentlemen." Salesby stood in the cage, sucking in his cheeks, staring at theceiling and turning the ring, turning the signet ring on his little finger ...Arrived in their room he went swiftly over to the washstand, shook the bottle,poured her out a dose and brought it across."Sit down. Drink it. And don't talk." And he stood over her while she obeyed.Then he took the glass, rinsed it and put it back in its case. "Would you like acushion?""No, I'm quite all right, come over here. Sit down by me just a minute, willyou, Robert? Ah, that's very nice." She turned and thrust the piece ofheliotrope in the lapel of his coat. "That," she said, "is most becoming." Andthen she leaned her head against his shoulder and he put his arm round her."Robert--" her voice like a sigh-like a breath."Yes--"They sat there for a long while. The sky flamed, paled; the two white beds werelike two ships ... At last he heard the servant girl running along thecorridor with the hot-water cans, and gently he released her and turned on thelight."Oh, what time is it? Oh, what a heavenly evening. Oh, Robert, I was thinkingwhile you were away this afternoon ..."They were the last couple to enter the dining-room. The Countess was there withher lorgnette and her fan, the General was there with his special chair and theair cushion and the small rug over his knees. The American Woman was thereshowing Klaymongso a copy of the Saturday Evening Post ... "We're having a feastof reason and a flow of soul." The Two Topknots were there feeling over thepeaches and the pears in their dish of fruit and putting aside all theyconsidered unripe or overripe to show to the manager, and the Honeymoon Coupleleaned across the table, whispering, trying not to burst out laughing.Mr. Queet, in everyday clothes and white canvas shoes, served the soup, andAntonio, in full evening dress, handed it round."No," said the American Woman, "take it away, Antonio. We can't eat soup. Wecan't eat anything mushy, can we, Klaymongso?""Take them back and fill them to the rim!" said the Topknots, and they turnedand watched while Antonio delivered the message."What is it? Rice? Is it cooked?" The Countess peered through her lorgnette."Mr. Queet, the General can have some of this soup if it is cooked.""Very good, Countess."The Honeymoon Couple had their fish instead."Give me that one. That's the one I caught. No, it's not. Yes, it is. No, it'snot. Well, it's looking at me with its eye, so it must be. Tee! Hee! Hee!" Theirfeet were locked together under the table."Robert, you're not eating again. Is anything the matter?""No. Off food, that's all.""Oh, what a bother. There are eggs and spinach coming. You don't like spinach,do you. I must tell them in future ..."An egg and mashed potatoes for the General."Mr. Queet! Mr. Queet!""Yes, Countess.""The General's egg's too hard again.""Caw! Caw! Caw!""Very sorry, Countess. Shall I have you another cooked, General?"... They are the first to leave the dining-room. She rises, gathering her shawland he stands aside, waiting for her to pass, turning the ring, turning thesignet ring on his little finger. In the hall Mr. Queet hovers. "I thought youmight not want to wait for the lift. Antonio's just serving the finger bowls.And I'm sorry the bell won't ring, it's out of order. I can't think what'shappened.""Oh, I do hope ..." from her."Get in," says he.Mr. Queet steps after them and slams the door .... . . "Robert, do you mind if I go to bed very soon? Won't you go down to thesalon or out into the garden? Or perhaps you might smoke a cigar on the balcony.It's lovely out there. And I like cigar smoke. I always did. But if you'd rather...""No, I'll sit here."He takes a chair and sits on the balcony. He hears her moving about in the room,lightly, lightly, moving and rustling. Then she comes over to him. "Good night,Robert.""Good night." He takes her hand and kisses the palm. "Don't catch cold."The sky is the colour of jade. There are a great many stars; an enormous whitemoon hangs over the garden. Far away lightning flutters - flutters like a wing -flutters like a broken bird that tries to fly and sinks again and againstruggles.The lights from the salon shine across the garden path and there is the sound ofa piano. And once the American Woman, opening the French window to letKlaymongso into the garden, cries: "Have you seen this moon?" But nobodyanswers.He gets very cold sitting there, staring at the balcony rail. Finally he comesinside. The moon - the room is painted white with moonlight. The light tremblesin the mirrors; the two beds seem to float. She is asleep. He sees her throughthe nets, half sitting, banked up with pillows, her white hands crossed on thesheet, her white cheeks, her fair hair pressed against the pillow, are silveredover. He undresses quickly, stealthily and gets into bed. Lying there, his handsclasped behind his head ...... In his study. Late summer. The virginia creeper just on the turn ..."Well, my dear chap, that's the whole story. That's the long and the short ofit. If she can't cut away for the next two years and give a decent climate achance she don't stand a dog's - h'm - show. Better be frank about thesethings." "Oh, certainly ..." "And hang it all, old man, what's to prevent yougoing with her? It isn't as though you've got a regular job like us wageearners. You can do what you do wherever you are--" "Two years." "Yes, I shouldgive it two years. You'll have no trouble about letting this house, you know. Asa matter of fact ..."... He is with her. "Robert, the awful thing is - I suppose it's my illness - Isimply feel I could not go alone. You see - you're everything. You're breadand wine, Robert, bread and wine. Oh, my darling - what am I saying? Of course Icould, of course I won't take you away ..."He hears her stirring. Does she want something?"Boogles?"Good Lord! She is talking in her sleep. They haven't used that name for years."Boogles. Are you awake?""Yes, do you want anything?""Oh, I'm going to be a bother. I'm so sorry. Do you mind? There's a wretchedmosquito inside my net - I can hear him singing. Would you catch him? I don'twant to move because of my heart.""No, don't move. Stay where you are." He switches on the light, lifts the net."Where is the little beggar? Have you spotted him?""Yes, there, over by the corner. Oh, I do feel such a fiend to have dragged youout of bed. Do you mind dreadfully?""No, of course not." For a moment he hovers in his blue and white pyjamas. Then,"got him," he said."Oh, good. Was he a juicy one?""Beastly." He went over to the washstand and dipped his fingers in water. "Areyou all right now? Shall I switch off the light?""Yes, please. No. Boogles! Come back here a moment. Sit down by me. Give meyour hand." She turns his signet ring. "Why weren't you asleep? Boogles, listen.Come closer. I sometimes wonder - do you mind awfully being out here with me?"He bends down. He kisses her. He tucks her in, he smooths the pillow."Rot!" he whispers.

Previous Authors：The Little Governess Next Authors：The Singing Lesson