Chapter LXXVI

by William Somerset Maugham

　　Next day, in the afternoon, Philip sat in his room and wondered whetherMildred would come. He had slept badly. He had spent the morning in theclub of the Medical School, reading one newspaper after another. It wasthe vacation and few students he knew were in London, but he found one ortwo people to talk to, he played a game of chess, and so wore out thetedious hours. After luncheon he felt so tired, his head was aching so,that he went back to his lodgings and lay down; he tried to read a novel.He had not seen Griffiths. He was not in when Philip returned the nightbefore; he heard him come back, but he did not as usual look into Philip'sroom to see if he was asleep; and in the morning Philip heard him go outearly. It was clear that he wanted to avoid him. Suddenly there was alight tap at his door. Philip sprang to his feet and opened it. Mildredstood on the threshold. She did not move."Come in," said Philip.He closed the door after her. She sat down. She hesitated to begin."Thank you for giving me that two shillings last night," she said."Oh, that's all right."She gave him a faint smile. It reminded Philip of the timid, ingratiatinglook of a puppy that has been beaten for naughtiness and wants toreconcile himself with his master."I've been lunching with Harry," she said."Have you?""If you still want me to go away with you on Saturday, Philip, I'll come."A quick thrill of triumph shot through his heart, but it was a sensationthat only lasted an instant; it was followed by a suspicion."Because of the money?" he asked."Partly," she answered simply. "Harry can't do anything. He owes fiveweeks here, and he owes you seven pounds, and his tailor's pressing himfor money. He'd pawn anything he could, but he's pawned everythingalready. I had a job to put the woman off about my new dress, and onSaturday there's the book at my lodgings, and I can't get work in fiveminutes. It always means waiting some little time till there's a vacancy."She said all this in an even, querulous tone, as though she wererecounting the injustices of fate, which had to be borne as part of thenatural order of things. Philip did not answer. He knew what she told himwell enough."You said partly," he observed at last."Well, Harry says you've been a brick to both of us. You've been a realgood friend to him, he says, and you've done for me what p'raps no otherman would have done. We must do the straight thing, he says. And he saidwhat you said about him, that he's fickle by nature, he's not like you,and I should be a fool to throw you away for him. He won't last and youwill, he says so himself.""D'you want to come away with me?" asked Philip."I don't mind."He looked at her, and the corners of his mouth turned down in anexpression of misery. He had triumphed indeed, and he was going to havehis way. He gave a little laugh of derision at his own humiliation. Shelooked at him quickly, but did not speak."I've looked forward with all my soul to going away with you, and Ithought at last, after all that wretchedness, I was going to be happy..."He did not finish what he was going to say. And then on a sudden, withoutwarning, Mildred broke into a storm of tears. She was sitting in the chairin which Norah had sat and wept, and like her she hid her face on the backof it, towards the side where there was a little bump formed by thesagging in the middle, where the head had rested."I'm not lucky with women," thought Philip.Her thin body was shaken with sobs. Philip had never seen a woman cry withsuch an utter abandonment. It was horribly painful, and his heart wastorn. Without realising what he did, he went up to her and put his armsround her; she did not resist, but in her wretchedness surrendered herselfto his comforting. He whispered to her little words of solace. He scarcelyknew what he was saying, he bent over her and kissed her repeatedly."Are you awfully unhappy?" he said at last."I wish I was dead," she moaned. "I wish I'd died when the baby come."Her hat was in her way, and Philip took it off for her. He placed her headmore comfortably in the chair, and then he went and sat down at the tableand looked at her."It is awful, love, isn't it?" he said. "Fancy anyone wanting to be inlove."Presently the violence of her sobbing diminished and she sat in the chair,exhausted, with her head thrown back and her arms hanging by her side. Shehad the grotesque look of one of those painters' dummies used to hangdraperies on."I didn't know you loved him so much as all that," said Philip.He understood Griffiths' love well enough, for he put himself inGriffiths' place and saw with his eyes, touched with his hands; he wasable to think himself in Griffiths' body, and he kissed her with his lips,smiled at her with his smiling blue eyes. It was her emotion thatsurprised him. He had never thought her capable of passion, and this waspassion: there was no mistaking it. Something seemed to give way in hisheart; it really felt to him as though something were breaking, and hefelt strangely weak."I don't want to make you unhappy. You needn't come away with me if youdon't want to. I'll give you the money all the same."She shook her head."No, I said I'd come, and I'll come.""What's the good, if you're sick with love for him?""Yes, that's the word. I'm sick with love. I know it won't last, just aswell as he does, but just now..."She paused and shut her eyes as though she were going to faint. A strangeidea came to Philip, and he spoke it as it came, without stopping to thinkit out."Why don't you go away with him?""How can I? You know we haven't got the money.""I'll give you the money""You?"She sat up and looked at him. Her eyes began to shine, and the colour cameinto her cheeks."Perhaps the best thing would be to get it over, and then you'd come backto me."Now that he had made the suggestion he was sick with anguish, and yet thetorture of it gave him a strange, subtle sensation. She stared at him withopen eyes."Oh, how could we, on your money? Harry wouldn't think of it.""Oh yes, he would, if you persuaded him."Her objections made him insist, and yet he wanted her with all his heartto refuse vehemently."I'll give you a fiver, and you can go away from Saturday to Monday. Youcould easily do that. On Monday he's going home till he takes up hisappointment at the North London.""Oh, Philip, do you mean that?" she cried, clasping her hands. "if youcould only let us go--I would love you so much afterwards, I'd do anythingfor you. I'm sure I shall get over it if you'll only do that. Would youreally give us the money?""Yes," he said.She was entirely changed now. She began to laugh. He could see that shewas insanely happy. She got up and knelt down by Philip's side, taking hishands."You are a brick, Philip. You're the best fellow I've ever known. Won'tyou be angry with me afterwards?"He shook his head, smiling, but with what agony in his heart!"May I go and tell Harry now? And can I say to him that you don't mind? Hewon't consent unless you promise it doesn't matter. Oh, you don't know howI love him! And afterwards I'll do anything you like. I'll come over toParis with you or anywhere on Monday."She got up and put on her hat."Where are you going?""I'm going to ask him if he'll take me.""Already?""D'you want me to stay? I'll stay if you like."She sat down, but he gave a little laugh."No, it doesn't matter, you'd better go at once. There's only one thing:I can't bear to see Griffiths just now, it would hurt me too awfully. SayI have no ill-feeling towards him or anything like that, but ask him tokeep out of my way.""All right." She sprang up and put on her gloves. "I'll let you know whathe says.""You'd better dine with me tonight.""Very well."She put up her face for him to kiss her, and when he pressed his lips tohers she threw her arms round his neck."You are a darling, Philip."She sent him a note a couple of hours later to say that she had a headacheand could not dine with him. Philip had almost expected it. He knew thatshe was dining with Griffiths. He was horribly jealous, but the suddenpassion which had seized the pair of them seemed like something that hadcome from the outside, as though a god had visited them with it, and hefelt himself helpless. It seemed so natural that they should love oneanother. He saw all the advantages that Griffiths had over himself andconfessed that in Mildred's place he would have done as Mildred did. Whathurt him most was Griffiths' treachery; they had been such good friends,and Griffiths knew how passionately devoted he was to Mildred: he mighthave spared him.He did not see Mildred again till Friday; he was sick for a sight of herby then; but when she came and he realised that he had gone out of herthoughts entirely, for they were engrossed in Griffiths, he suddenly hatedher. He saw now why she and Griffiths loved one another, Griffiths wasstupid, oh so stupid! he had known that all along, but had shut his eyesto it, stupid and empty-headed: that charm of his concealed an utterselfishness; he was willing to sacrifice anyone to his appetites. And howinane was the life he led, lounging about bars and drinking in musichalls, wandering from one light amour to another! He never read a book, hewas blind to everything that was not frivolous and vulgar; he had never athought that was fine: the word most common on his lips was smart; thatwas his highest praise for man or woman. Smart! It was no wonder hepleased Mildred. They suited one another.Philip talked to Mildred of things that mattered to neither of them. Heknew she wanted to speak of Griffiths, but he gave her no opportunity. Hedid not refer to the fact that two evenings before she had put off diningwith him on a trivial excuse. He was casual with her, trying to make herthink he was suddenly grown indifferent; and he exercised peculiar skillin saying little things which he knew would wound her; but which were soindefinite, so delicately cruel, that she could not take exception tothem. At last she got up."I think I must be going off now," she said."I daresay you've got a lot to do," he answered.She held out her hand, he took it, said good-bye, and opened the door forher. He knew what she wanted to speak about, and he knew also that hiscold, ironical air intimidated her. Often his shyness made him seem sofrigid that unintentionally he frightened people, and, having discoveredthis, he was able when occasion arose to assume the same manner."You haven't forgotten what you promised?" she said at last, as he heldopen the door."What is that?""About the money""How much d'you want?"He spoke with an icy deliberation which made his words peculiarlyoffensive. Mildred flushed. He knew she hated him at that moment, and hewondered at the self-control by which she prevented herself from flyingout at him. He wanted to make her suffer."There's the dress and the book tomorrow. That's all. Harry won't come, sowe shan't want money for that."Philip's heart gave a great thud against his ribs, and he let the doorhandle go. The door swung to."Why not?""He says we couldn't, not on your money."A devil seized Philip, a devil of self-torture which was always lurkingwithin him, and, though with all his soul he wished that Griffiths andMildred should not go away together, he could not help himself; he sethimself to persuade Griffiths through her."I don't see why not, if I'm willing," he said."That's what I told him.""I should have thought if he really wanted to go he wouldn't hesitate.""Oh, it's not that, he wants to all right. He'd go at once if he had themoney.""If he's squeamish about it I'll give you the money.""I said you'd lend it if he liked, and we'd pay it back as soon as wecould.""It's rather a change for you going on your knees to get a man to take youaway for a week-end.""It is rather, isn't it?" she said, with a shameless little laugh. It senta cold shudder down Philip's spine."What are you going to do then?" he asked."Nothing. He's going home tomorrow. He must."That would be Philip's salvation. With Griffiths out of the way he couldget Mildred back. She knew no one in London, she would be thrown on to hissociety, and when they were alone together he could soon make her forgetthis infatuation. If he said nothing more he was safe. But he had afiendish desire to break down their scruples, he wanted to know howabominably they could behave towards him; if he tempted them a little morethey would yield, and he took a fierce joy at the thought of theirdishonour. Though every word he spoke tortured him, he found in thetorture a horrible delight."It looks as if it were now or never.""That's what I told him," she said.There was a passionate note in her voice which struck Philip. He wasbiting his nails in his nervousness."Where were you thinking of going?""Oh, to Oxford. He was at the 'Varsity there, you know. He said he'd showme the colleges."Philip remembered that once he had suggested going to Oxford for the day,and she had expressed firmly the boredom she felt at the thought ofsights."And it looks as if you'd have fine weather. It ought to be very jollythere just now.""I've done all I could to persuade him.""Why don't you have another try?""Shall I say you want us to go?""I don't think you must go as far as that," said Philip.She paused for a minute or two, looking at him. Philip forced himself tolook at her in a friendly way. He hated her, he despised her, he loved herwith all his heart."I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll go and see if he can't arrange it. Andthen, if he says yes, I'll come and fetch the money tomorrow. When shallyou be in?""I'll come back here after luncheon and wait.""All right.""I'll give you the money for your dress and your room now."He went to his desk and took out what money he had. The dress was sixguineas; there was besides her rent and her food, and the baby's keep fora week. He gave her eight pounds ten."Thanks very much," she said.She left him.