Chapter 11

by William Somerset Maugham

　　Arthur went back to London next day.Susie felt it impossible any longer to stay in the deserted studio, andaccepted a friend's invitation to spend the winter in Italy. The good DrPorhoet remained in Paris with his books and his occult studies.Susie travelled slowly through Tuscany and Umbria. Margaret had notwritten to her, and Susie, on leaving Paris, had sent her friend'sbelongings to an address from which she knew they would eventually beforwarded. She could not bring herself to write. In answer to a noteannouncing her change of plans, Arthur wrote briefly that he had muchwork to do and was delivering a new course of lectures at St. Luke's; hehad lately been appointed visiting surgeon to another hospital, and hisprivate practice was increasing. He did not mention Margaret. His letterwas abrupt, formal, and constrained. Susie, reading it for the tenthtime, could make little of it. She saw that he wrote only from civility,without interest; and there was nothing to indicate his state of mind.Susie and her companion had made up their minds to pass some weeks inRome; and here, to her astonishment, Susie had news of Haddo and hiswife. It appeared that they had spent some time there, and the littleEnglish circle was talking still of their eccentricities. They travelledin some state, with a courier and a suite of servants; they had taken acarriage and were in the habit of driving every afternoon on the Pincio.Haddo had excited attention by the extravagance of his costume, andMargaret by her beauty; she was to be seen in her box at the opera everynight, and her diamonds were the envy of all beholders. Though people hadlaughed a good deal at Haddo's pretentiousness, and been exasperated byhis arrogance, they could not fail to be impressed by his obvious wealth.But finally the pair had disappeared suddenly without saying a word toanybody. A good many bills remained unpaid, but these, Susie learnt, hadbeen settled later. It was reported that they were now in Monte Carlo.'Did they seem happy?' Susie asked the gossiping friend who gave her thisscanty information.'I think so. After all, Mrs Haddo has almost everything that a womancan want, riches, beauty, nice clothes, jewels. She would be veryunreasonable not to be happy.'Susie had meant to pass the later spring on the Riviera, but when sheheard that the Haddos were there, she hesitated. She did not want torun the risk of seeing them, and yet she had a keen desire to find outexactly how things were going. Curiosity and distaste struggled in hermind, but curiosity won; and she persuaded her friend to go to MonteCarlo instead of to Beaulieu. At first Susie did not see the Haddos; butrumour was already much occupied with them, and she had only to keep herears open. In that strange place, where all that is extravagant and evil,all that is morbid, insane, and fantastic, is gathered together, theHaddos were in fit company. They were notorious for their assiduity atthe tables and for their luck, for the dinners and suppers they gave atplaces frequented by the very opulent, and for their eccentricappearance. It was a complex picture that Susie put together from thescraps of information she collected. After two or three days she sawthem at the tables, but they were so absorbed in their game that she feltquite safe from discovery. Margaret was playing, but Haddo stood behindher and directed her movements. Their faces were extraordinarily intent.Susie fixed her attention on Margaret, for in what she had heard of hershe had been quite unable to recognize the girl who had been her friend.And what struck her most now was that there was in Margaret's expressiona singular likeness to Haddo's. Notwithstanding her exquisite beauty, shehad a curiously vicious look, which suggested that somehow she sawliterally with Oliver's eyes. They had won great sums that evening, andmany persons watched them. It appeared that they played always in thisfashion, Margaret putting on the stakes and Haddo telling her what to doand when to stop. Susie heard two Frenchmen talking of them. She listenedwith all her ears. She flushed as she heard one of them make anobservation about Margaret which was more than coarse. The other laughed.'It is incredible,' he said.'I assure you it's true. They have been married six months, and she isstill only his wife in name. The superstitious through all the ages havebelieved in the power of virginity, and the Church has made use of theidea for its own ends. The man uses her simply as a mascot.'The men laughed, and their conversation proceeded so grossly that Susie'scheeks burned. But what she had heard made her look at Margaret moreclosely still. She was radiant. Susie could not deny that something hadcome to her that gave a new, enigmatic savour to her beauty. She wasdressed more gorgeously than Susie's fastidious taste would havepermitted; and her diamonds, splendid in themselves, were too magnificentfor the occasion. At last, sweeping up the money, Haddo touched her onthe shoulder, and she rose. Behind her was standing a painted woman ofnotorious disreputability. Susie was astonished to see Margaret smile andnod as she passed her.Susie learnt that the Haddos had a suite of rooms at the most expensiveof the hotels. They lived in a whirl of gaiety. They knew few Englishexcept those whose reputations were damaged, but seemed to prefer thesociety of those foreigners whose wealth and eccentricities made them thecynosure of that little world. Afterwards, she often saw them, in companyof Russian Grand-Dukes and their mistresses, of South American women withprodigious diamonds, of noble gamblers and great ladies of doubtful fame,of strange men overdressed and scented. Rumour was increasingly busy withthem. Margaret moved among all those queer people with a coldmysteriousness that excited the curiosity of the sated idlers. Thesuggestion which Susie overheard was repeated more circumstantially. Butto this was joined presently the report of orgies that were enacted inthe darkened sitting-room of the hotel, when all that was noble andvicious in Monte Carlo was present. Oliver's eccentric imaginationinvented whimsical festivities. He had a passion for disguise, and hegave a fancy-dress party of which fabulous stories were told. He soughtto revive the mystical ceremonies of old religions, and it was reportedthat horrible rites had been performed in the garden of the villa, underthe shining moon, in imitation of those he had seen in Eastern places. Itwas said that Haddo had magical powers of extraordinary character, andthe tired imagination of those pleasure-seekers was tickled by his talkof black art. Some even asserted that the blasphemous ceremonies of theBlack Mass had been celebrated in the house of a Polish Prince. Peoplebabbled of satanism and of necromancy. Haddo was thought to be immersedin occult studies for the performance of a magical operation; and somesaid that he was occupied with the Magnum Opus, the greatest and mostfantastic of alchemical experiments. Gradually these stories werenarrowed down to the monstrous assertion that he was attempting to createliving beings. He had explained at length to somebody that magicalreceipts existed for the manufacture of homunculi.Haddo was known generally by the name he was pleased to give himself.The Brother of the Shadow; but most people used it in derision, forit contrasted absurdly with his astonishing bulk. They were amused oroutraged by his vanity, but they could not help talking about him, andSusie knew well enough by now that nothing pleased him more. His exploitsas a lion-hunter were well known, and it was reported that human bloodwas on his hands. It was soon discovered that he had a queer power overanimals, so that in his presence they were seized with unaccountableterror. He succeeded in surrounding himself with an atmosphere of thefabulous, and nothing that was told of him was too extravagant forbelief. But unpleasant stories were circulated also, and someone relatedthat he had been turned out of a club in Vienna for cheating at cards.He played many games, but here, as at Oxford, it was found that he wasan unscrupulous opponent. And those old rumours followed him that he tookstrange drugs. He was supposed to have odious vices, and people whisperedto one another of scandals that had been with difficulty suppressed. Noone quite understood on what terms he was with his wife, and it wasvaguely asserted that he was at times brutally cruel to her. Susie'sheart sank when she heard this; but on the few occasions upon which shecaught sight of Margaret, she seemed in the highest spirits. One storyinexpressibly shocked her. After lunching at some restaurant, Haddo gavea bad louis among the money with which he paid the bill, and there was adisgraceful altercation with the waiter. He refused to change the cointill a policeman was brought in. His guests were furious, and severaltook the first opportunity to cut him dead. One of those present narratedthe scene to Susie, and she was told that Margaret laughed unconcernedlywith her neighbour while the sordid quarrel was proceeding. The man'sblood was as good as his fortune was substantial, but it seemed to pleasehim to behave like an adventurer. The incident was soon common property,and gradually the Haddos found themselves cold-shouldered. The personswith whom they mostly consorted had reputations too delicate to stand theglare of publicity which shone upon all who were connected with him, andthe suggestion of police had thrown a shudder down many a spine. What hadhappened in Rome happened here again: they suddenly disappeared.Susie had not been in London for some time, and as the spring advancedshe remembered that her friends would be glad to see her. It would becharming to spend a few weeks there with an adequate income; for itspleasures had hitherto been closed to her, and she looked forward to hervisit as if it were to a foreign city. But though she would not confessit to herself, her desire to see Arthur was the strongest of her motives.Time and absence had deadened a little the intensity of her feelings, andshe could afford to acknowledge that she regarded him with very greataffection. She knew that he would never care for her, but she was contentto be his friend. She could think of him without pain.Susie stayed in Paris for three weeks to buy some of the clothes whichshe asserted were now her only pleasure in life, and then went to London.She wrote to Arthur, and he invited her at once to lunch with him at arestaurant. She was vexed, for she felt they could have spoken morefreely in his own house; but as soon as she saw him, she realized thathe had chosen their meeting-place deliberately. The crowd of people thatsurrounded them, the gaiety, the playing of the band, prevented anyintimacy of conversation. They were forced to talk of commonplaces.Susie was positively terrified at the change that had taken place in him.He looked ten years older; he had lost flesh, and his hair was sprinkledwith white. His face was extraordinarily drawn, and his eyes were wearyfrom lack of sleep. But what most struck her was the change in hisexpression. The look of pain which she had seen on his face that lastevening in the studio was now become settled, so that it altered thelines of his countenance. It was harrowing to look at him. He was moresilent than ever, and when he spoke it was in a strange low voice thatseemed to come from a long way off. To be with him made Susie curiouslyuneasy, for there was a strenuousness in him which deprived his manner ofall repose. One of the things that had pleased her in him formerly wasthe tranquillity which gave one the impression that here was a man whocould be relied on in difficulties. At first she could not understandexactly what had happened, but in a moment saw that he was making anunceasing effort at self-control. He was never free from suffering and hewas constantly on the alert to prevent anyone from seeing it. The straingave him a peculiar restlessness.But he was gentler than he had ever been before. He seemed genuinely gladto see her and asked about her travels with interest. Susie led him totalk of himself, and he spoke willingly enough of his daily round. He wasearning a good deal of money, and his professional reputation was makingsteady progress. He worked hard. Besides his duties at the two hospitalswith which he was now connected, his teaching, and his private practice,he had read of late one or two papers before scientific bodies, and wasediting a large work on surgery.'How on earth can you find time to do so much?' asked Susie.'I can do with less sleep than I used,' he answered. 'It almost doublesmy working-day.'He stopped abruptly and looked down. His remark had given accidentallysome hint at the inner life which he was striving to conceal. Susie knewthat her suspicion was well-founded. She thought of the long hours helay awake, trying in vain to drive from his mind the agony that torturedhim, and the short intervals of troubled sleep. She knew that he delayedas long as possible the fatal moment of going to bed, and welcomed thefirst light of day, which gave him an excuse for getting up. And becausehe knew that he had divulged the truth he was embarrassed. They satin awkward silence. To Susie, the tragic figure in front of her wassingularly impressive amid that lighthearted throng: all about them happypersons were enjoying the good things of life, talking, laughing, andmaking merry. She wondered what refinement of self-torture had driven himto choose that place to come to. He must hate it.When they finished luncheon, Susie took her courage in both hands.'Won't you come back to my rooms for half an hour? We can't talk here.'He made an instinctive motion of withdrawal, as though he sought toescape. He did not answer immediately, and she insisted.'You have nothing to do for an hour, and there are many things I want tospeak to you about''The only way to be strong is never to surrender to one's weakness,' hesaid, almost in a whisper, as though ashamed to talk so intimately.'Then you won't come?''No.'It was not necessary to specify the matter which it was proposed todiscuss. Arthur knew perfectly that Susie wished to talk of Margaret, andhe was too straightforward to pretend otherwise. Susie paused for onemoment.'I was never able to give Margaret your message. She did not write tome.'A certain wildness came into his eyes, as if the effort he made wasalmost too much for him.'I saw her in Monte Carlo,' said Susie. 'I thought you might like to hearabout her.''I don't see that it can do any good,' he answered.Susie made a little hopeless gesture. She was beaten.'Shall we go?' she said.'You are not angry with me?' he asked. 'I know you mean to be kind. I'mvery grateful to you.''I shall never be angry with you,' she smiled.Arthur paid the bill, and they threaded their way among the tables. Atthe door she held out her hand.'I think you do wrong in shutting yourself away from all humancomradeship,' she said, with that good-humoured smile of hers. 'Youmust know that you will only grow absurdly morbid.''I go out a great deal,' he answered patiently, as though he reasonedwith a child. 'I make a point of offering myself distractions from mywork. I go to the opera two or three times a week.''I thought you didn't care for music.''I don't think I did,' he answered. 'But I find it rests me.'He spoke with a weariness that was appalling. Susie had never beheld soplainly the torment of a soul in pain.'Won't you let me come to the opera with you one night?' she asked. 'Ordoes it bore you to see me?''I should like it above all things,' he smiled, quite brightly. 'You'relike a wonderful tonic. They're giving Tristan on Thursday. Shall we gotogether?''I should enjoy it enormously.'She shook hands with him and jumped into a cab.'Oh, poor thing!' she murmured. 'Poor thing! What can I do for him?'She clenched, her hands when she thought of Margaret. It was monstrousthat she should have caused such havoc in that good, strong man.'Oh, I hope she'll suffer for it,' she whispered vindictively. 'I hopeshe'll suffer all the agony that he has suffered.'Susie dressed herself for Covent Garden as only she could do. Her gownpleased her exceedingly, not only because it was admirably made, butbecause it had cost far more than she could afford. To dress well was heronly extravagance. It was of taffeta silk, in that exquisite green whichthe learned in such matters call Eau de Nil; and its beauty wasenhanced by the old lace which had formed not the least treasured partof her inheritance. In her hair she wore an ornament of Spanish paste,of exquisite workmanship, and round her neck a chain which had onceadorned that of a madonna in an Andalusian church. Her individualitymade even her plainness attractive. She smiled at herself in the glassruefully, because Arthur would never notice that she was perfectlydressed.When she tripped down the stairs and across the pavement to the cab withwhich he fetched her, Susie held up her skirt with a grace she flatteredherself was quite Parisian. As they drove along, she flirted a littlewith her Spanish fan and stole a glance at herself in the glass. Hergloves were so long and so new and so expensive that she was reallyindifferent to Arthur's inattention.Her joyous temperament expanded like a spring flower when she foundherself in the Opera House. She put up her glasses and examined the womenas they came into the boxes of the Grand Tier. Arthur pointed out anumber of persons whose names were familiar to her, but she felt theeffort he was making to be amiable. The weariness of his mouth thatevening was more noticeable because of the careless throng. But whenthe music began he seemed to forget that any eye was upon him; he relaxedthe constant tension in which he held himself; and Susie, watching himsurreptitiously, saw the emotions chase one another across his face. Itwas now very mobile. The passionate sounds ate into his soul, minglingwith his own love and his own sorrow, till he was taken out of himself;and sometimes he panted strangely. Through the interval he remainedabsorbed in his emotion. He sat as quietly as before and did not speak aword. Susie understood why Arthur, notwithstanding his old indifference,now showed such eager appreciation of music; it eased the pain hesuffered by transferring it to an ideal world, and his own grievoussorrow made the music so real that it gave him an enjoyment ofextraordinary vehemence. When it was all over and Isolde had given herlast wail of sorrow, Arthur was so exhausted that he could hardly stir.But they went out with the crowd, and while they were waiting in thevestibule for space to move in, a common friend came up to them. Thiswas Arbuthnot, an eye-specialist, whom Susie had met on the Riviera andwho, she presently discovered, was a colleague of Arthur's at St Luke's.He was a prosperous bachelor with grey hair and a red, contented face,well-to-do, for his practice was large, and lavish with his money. Hehad taken Susie out to luncheon once or twice in Monte Carlo; for heliked women, pretty or plain, and she attracted him by her good-humour.He rushed up to them now and wrung their hands. He spoke in a jovialvoice.'The very people I wanted to see! Why haven't you been to see me, youwicked woman? I'm sure your eyes are in a deplorable condition.''Do you think I would let a bold, bad man like you stare into them withan ophthalmoscope?' laughed Susie.'Now look here, I want you both to do me a great favour. I'm giving asupper party at the Savoy, and two of my people have suddenly failed me.The table is ordered for eight, and you must come and take their places.''I'm afraid I must get home,' said Arthur. 'I have a deuce of a lot ofwork to do.''Nonsense,' answered Arbuthnot. 'You work much too hard, and a littlerelaxation will do you good.' He turned to Susie: 'I know you likecuriosities in human nature; I'm having a man and his wife who willpositively thrill you, they're so queer, and a lovely actress, and anawfully jolly American girl.''I should love to come,' said Susie, with an appealing look at Arthur,'if only to show you how much more amusing I am than lovely actresses.'Arthur, forcing himself to smile, accepted the invitation. The specialistpatted him cheerily on the back, and they agreed to meet at the Savoy.'It's awfully good of you to come,' said Susie, as they drove along. 'Doyou know, I've never been there in my life, and I'm palpitating withexcitement.''What a selfish brute I was to refuse!' he answered.When Susie came out of the dressing-room, she found Arthur waiting forher. She was in the best of spirits.'Now you must say you like my frock. I've seen six women turn green withenvy at the sight of it. They think I must be French, and they're sureI'm not respectable.''That is evidently a great compliment,' he smiled.At that moment Arbuthnot came up to them in his eager way and seizedtheir arms.'Come along. We're waiting for you. I'll just introduce you all round,and then we'll go in to supper.'They walked down the steps into the foyer, and he led them to a group ofpeople. They found themselves face to face with Oliver Haddo andMargaret.'Mr Arthur Burdon--Mrs Haddo. Mr Burdon is a colleague of mine at StLuke's; and he will cut out your appendix in a shorter time than any manalive.'Arbuthnot rattled on. He did not notice that Arthur had grown ghastlypale and that Margaret was blank with consternation. Haddo, his heavyface wreathed with smiles, stepped forward heartily. He seemed thoroughlyto enjoy the situation.'Mr Burdon is an old friend of ours,' he said. 'In fact, it was he whointroduced me to my wife. And Miss Boyd and I have discussed Art and theImmortality of the Soul with the gravity due to such topics.'He held out his hand, and Susie took it. She had a horror of scenes, and,though this encounter was as unexpected as it was disagreeable, she feltit needful to behave naturally. She shook hands with Margaret.'How disappointing!' cried their host. 'I was hoping to give Miss Boydsomething quite new in the way of magicians, and behold! she knows allabout him.''If she did, I'm quite sure she wouldn't speak to me,' said Oliver, witha bantering smile.They went into the supper-room.'Now, how shall we sit?' said Arbuthnot, glancing round the table.Oliver looked at Arthur, and his eyes twinkled.'You must really let my wife and Mr Burdon be together. They haven't seenone another for so long that I'm sure they have no end of things to talkabout.' He chuckled to himself. 'And pray give me Miss Boyd, so that shecan abuse me to her heart's content.'This arrangement thoroughly suited the gay specialist, for he was able toput the beautiful actress on one side of him and the charming American onthe other. He rubbed his hands.'I feel that we're going to have a delightful supper.'Oliver laughed boisterously. He took, as was his habit, the wholeconversation upon himself, and Susie was obliged to confess that hewas at his best. There was a grotesque drollery about him that was verydiverting, and it was almost impossible to resist him. He ate and drankwith tremendous appetite. Susie thanked her stars at that moment that shewas a woman who knew by long practice how to conceal her feelings, forArthur, overcome with dismay at the meeting, sat in stony silence. Butshe talked gaily. She chaffed Oliver as though he were an old friend, andlaughed vivaciously. She noticed meanwhile that Haddo, more extravagantlydressed than usual, had managed to get an odd fantasy into his eveningclothes: he wore knee-breeches, which in itself was enough to exciteattention; but his frilled shirt, his velvet collar, and oddly-cut satinwaistcoat gave him the appearance of a comic Frenchman. Now that shewas able to examine him more closely, she saw that in the last six monthshe was grown much balder; and the shiny whiteness of his naked crowncontrasted oddly with the redness of his face. He was stouter, too, andthe fat hung in heavy folds under his chin; his paunch was preposterous.The vivacity of his movements made his huge corpulence subtly alarming.He was growing indeed strangely terrible in appearance. His eyes hadstill that fixed, parallel look, but there was in them now at times aferocious gleam. Margaret was as beautiful as ever, but Susie noticedthat his influence was apparent in her dress; for there could be no doubtthat it had crossed the line of individuality and had degenerated intothe eccentric. Her gown was much too gorgeous. It told against theclassical character of her beauty. Susie shuddered a little, for itreminded her of a courtesan's.Margaret talked and laughed as much as her husband, but Susie could nottell whether this animation was affected or due to an utter callousness.Her voice seemed natural enough, yet it was inconceivable that she shouldbe so lighthearted. Perhaps she was trying to show that she was happy.The supper proceeded, and the lights, the surrounding gaiety, thechampagne, made everyone more lively. Their host was in uproariousspirits. He told a story or two at which everyone laughed. Oliver Haddohad an amusing anecdote handy. It was a little risky, but it was sofunnily narrated that everyone roared but Arthur, who remained in perfectsilence. Margaret had been drinking glass after glass of wine, and nosooner had her husband finished than she capped his story with another.But whereas his was wittily immoral, hers was simply gross. At first theother women could not understand to what she was tending, but when theysaw, they looked down awkwardly at their plates. Arbuthnot, Haddo, andthe other man who was there laughed very heartily; but Arthur flushed tothe roots of his hair. He felt horribly uncomfortable. He was ashamed. Hedared not look at Margaret. It was inconceivable that from her exquisitemouth such indecency should issue. Margaret, apparently quite unconsciousof the effect she had produced, went on talking and laughing.Soon the lights were put out, and Arthur's agony was ended. He wanted torush away, to hide his face, to forget the sight of her and her gaiety,above all to forget that story. It was horrible, horrible.She shook hands with him quite lightly.'You must come and see us one day. We've got rooms at the Carlton.'He bowed and did not answer. Susie had gone to the dressing-room to gether cloak. She stood at the door when Margaret came out.'Can we drop you anywhere?' said Margaret. 'You must come and see us whenyou have nothing better to do.'Susie threw back her head. Arthur was standing just in front of themlooking down at the ground in complete abstraction.'Do you see him?' she said, in a low voice quivering with indignation.'That is what you have made him.'He looked up at that moment and turned upon them his sunken, tormentedeyes. They saw his wan, pallid face with its look of hopeless woe.'Do you know that he's killing himself on your account? He can't sleep atnight. He's suffered the tortures of the damned. Oh, I hope you'll sufferas he's suffered!''I wonder that you blame me,' said Margaret. 'You ought to be rathergrateful.''Why?''You're not going to deny that you've loved him passionately from thefirst day you saw him? Do you think I didn't see that you cared for himin Paris? You care for him now more than ever.'Susie felt suddenly sick at heart. She had never dreamt that her secretwas discovered. Margaret gave a bitter little laugh and walked past her.