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Файл:Сага о Форсайтах. В петле. Книга для чтения на английском языке
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“I don’t know what things are comin’ to,” he
was heard to say. “What’s all this about goin’ out
there? That’s not the way to beat those Boers.”
Francie alone had the hardihood to observe:
“What is, then, Uncle Timothy?”
“All this newfangled volunteerin’ and expense —
lettin’ money out of the country.”
Just then Aunt Hester brought in the map, han
dling it like a baby with eruptions. With the assis
tance of Euphemia it was laid on the piano, a small
Colwood grand, last played on, it was believed, the
summer before Aunt Ann died, thirteen years ago.
Timothy rose. He walked over to the piano, and stood
looking at his map while they all gathered round.
“There you are,” he said; “that’s the position up
to date; and very poor it is. H’m!”
“Yes,” said Francie, greatly daring, “but how are
you going to alter it, Uncle Timothy, without more
men?”
“Men!” said Timothy; “you don’t want men —
wastin’ the country’s money. You want a Napoleon,
he’d settle it in a month.”
“But if you haven’t got him, Uncle Timothy?”
“That’s their business,” replied Timothy. “What
have we kept the Army up for — to eat their heads
off in time of peace! They ought to be ashamed of
themselves, comin’ on the country to help them
like this! Let every man stick to his business, and
we shall get on.”
PART II
281
And looking round him, he added almost angri
ly: “Volunteerin’, indeed! Throwin’ good money af
ter bad! We must save! Conserve energy — that’s
the only way.” And with a prolonged sound, not
quite a sniff and not quite a snort, he trod on
IN CHANCERY
Euphemia’s toe, and went out, leaving a sensa
tion and a faint scent of barleysugar behind him.
The effect of something said with conviction by
one who has evidently made a sacrifice to say it is
ever considerable. And the eight Forsytes left be
hind, all women except young Nicholas, were si
lent for a moment round the map. Then Francie
said: “Really, I think he’s right, you know. After
all, what is the Army for? They ought to have
known. It’s only encouraging them.”
“My dear!” cried Aunt Juley, “but they’ve been
so progressive. Think of their giving up their scar
let. They were always so proud of it. And now they
all look like convicts. Hester and I were saying
only yesterday we were sure they must feel it very
1
much. Fancy what the Iron Duke
would have
said!”
“The new colour’s very smart,” said Winifred;
“Val looks quite nice in his.”
Aunt Juley sighed.
1
the Iron Duke — имеется в виду герцог Веллингтон
ский (1769–1852), полководец, государственный деятель
282
“I do so wonder what Jolyon’s boy is like. To
think we’ve never seen him! His father must be so
proud of him.”
“His father’s in Paris,” said Winifred.
Aunt Hester’s shoulder was seen to mount sud
denly, as if to ward off her sister’s next remark, for
Juley’s crumpled cheeks had gushed.
“We had dear little Mrs. MacAnder here yester
day, just back from Paris. And whom d’you think she
saw there in the street? You’ll never guess.”
“We shan’t try, Auntie,” said Euphemia.
“Irene! Imagine! After all this time; walking
with a fair beard…”
“Auntie! you’ll kill me! A fair beard…”
“I was going to say,” said Aunt Juley severely,
“a fairbearded gentleman. And not a day older; she
was always so pretty,” she added, with a sort of lin
gering apology.
“Oh! tell us about her, Auntie,” cried Imogen;
“I can just remember her. She’s the skeleton in
1
the family cupboard
, isn’t she? And they’re such
fun.”
Aunt Hester sat down. Really, Juley had done it
now!
“She wasn’t much of a skeleton as I remember her,”
murmured Euphemia, “extremely wellcovered.”
PART II
1
she’s the skeleton in the family cupboard — (зд.) о ней
не принято упоминать
283
“My dear!” said Aunt Juley, “what a peculiar
way of putting it — not very nice.”
“No, but what was she like?” persisted Imogen.
“I’ll tell you, my child,” said Francie; “a kind of
modern Venus, very welldressed.”
IN CHANCERY
Euphemia said sharply: “Venus was never dressed,
and she had blue eyes of melting sapphire.”
At this juncture Nicholas took his leave.
“Mrs. Nick is awfully strict,” said Francie with
a laugh.
“She has six children,” said Aunt Juley; “it’s
very proper she should be careful.”
“Was Uncle Soames awfully fond of her?” pur
sued the inexorable Imogen, moving her dark lus
cious eyes from face to face.
Aunt Hester made a gesture of despair, just as
Aunt Juley answered: “Yes, your Uncle Soames
was very much attached to her.”
“I suppose she ran off with someone?”
“No, certainly not; that is — not precisely.”
“What did she do, then, Auntie?”
“Come along, Imogen,” said Winifred, “we must
be getting back.”
But Aunt Juley interjected resolutely: “She —
she didn’t behave at all well.”
“Oh, bother!” cried Imogen; “that’s as far as I
ever get.”
“Well, my dear,” said Francie, “she had a love
affair which ended with the young man’s death;
284
and then she left your uncle. I always rather liked
her.”
“She used to give me chocolates,” murmured
Imogen, “and smell nice.”
“Of course!” remarked Euphemia.
“Not of course at all!” replied Francie, who used
a particularly expensive essence of gillyflower her
self.
“I can’t think what we are about,” said Aunt
Juley, raising her hands, “talking of such things!”
“Was she divorced?” asked Imogen from the
door.
“Certainly not,” cried Aunt Juley; “that is —
certainly not.”
A sound was heard over by the far door. Tim
othy had reentered the back drawingroom. “I’ve
come for my map,” he said. “Who’s been di
vorced?”
“No one, Uncle,” replied Francie with perfect
truth.
Timothy took his map off the piano. “Don’t
let’s have anything of that sort in the family,” he
said. “All this enlistin’s bad enough. The coun
try’s breakin’ up; I don’t know what we’re comin’
to.” He shook a thick finger at the room: “Too
many women nowadays, and they don’t know
what they want.”
So saying, he grasped the map firmly with both
hands, and went out as if afraid of being answered.
PART II
285
The seven women whom he had addressed
broke into a subdued murmur, out of which
emerged Francie’s, “Really, the Forsytes!” and
Aunt Juley’s: “He must have his feet in mustard
and hot water tonight, Hester; will you tell
IN CHANCERY
Jane? The blood has gone to his head again, I’m
afraid…”
That evening, when she and Hester were sit
ting alone after dinner, she dropped a stitch in
her crochet, and looked up: “Hester, I can’t think
where I’ve heard that dear Soames wants Irene
to come back to him again. Who was it told us
that George had made a funny drawing of him
with the words, ‘He won’t be happy till he gets
it’?”
“Eustace,” answered Aunt Hester from behind
The Times; “he had it in his pocket, but he wouldn’t
show it us.”
Aunt Juley was silent, ruminating. The clock
ticked, The Times crackled, the fire sent forth
its rustling purr. Aunt Juley dropped another
stitch.
“Hester,” she said, “I have had such a dreadful
thought.”
“Then don’t tell me,” said Aunt Hester quickly.
“Oh! but I must. You can’t think how dread
ful!” Her voice sank to a whisper: “Jolyon — Joly
on, they say, has a — has a fair beard, now.”
286
Chapter XII
PROGRESS OF THE CHASE
Two days after the dinner at James’, Mr. Pol
teed provided Soames with food for thought.
“A gentleman,” he said, consulting the key con
cealed in his left hand, “47 as we say, has been
paying marked attention to 17 during the last
month in Paris. But at present there seems to
have been nothing very conclusive. The meetings
have all been in public places, without conceal
ment — restaurants, the Opera, the Comique, the
Louvre, Luxembourg Gardens, lounge of the ho
tel, and so forth. She has not yet been traced to
his rooms, nor vice versa. They went to Fon
tainebleau — but nothing of value. In short, the
situation is promising, but requires patience.”
And, looking up suddenly, he added: “One rather
curious point — 47 has the same name as — er —
31!”
‘The fellow knows I’m her husband,’ thought
Soames.
“Christian name — an odd one — Jolyon,” con
tinued Mr. Polteed. “We know his address in Pa
ris and his residence here. We don’t wish, of course,
1
to be running a wrong hare
.”
PART II
1
to be running a wrong hare — (сленг) идти по ложно
му следу; гоняться не за тем
287
“Go on with it, but be careful,” said Soames
doggedly.
Instinctive certainty that this detective fellow
had fathomed his secret made him all the more ret
icent.
IN CHANCERY
“Excuse me,” said Mr. Polteed, “I’ll just see if
there’s anything fresh in.”
He returned with some letters. Relocking the
door, he glanced at the envelopes. “Yes, here’s a
personal one from 19 to myself.”
“Well?” said Soames.
“Um!” said Mr. Polteed, “she says: ‘47 left for
England today. Address on his baggage: Robin
Hill. Parted from 17 in Louvre Gallery at 3.30;
nothing very striking. Thought it best to stay and
continue observation of 17. You will deal with 47
in England if you think desirable, no doubt.’” And
Mr. Polteed lifted an unprofessional glance on
Soames, as though he might be storing material for
a book on human nature after he had gone out of
business. “Very intelligent woman, 19, and a won
1
derful makeup
. Not cheap, but earns her money
well. There’s no suspicion of being shadowed so far.
But after a time, as you know, sensitive people are
liable to get the feeling of it, without anything
definite to go on. I should rather advise letting
внешность
288
1
a wonderful makeup — (зд.) отлично умеет менять
up on 17, and keeping an eye on 47. We can’t get
at correspondence without great risk. I hardly ad
vise that at this stage. But you can tell your cli
ent that it’s looking up very well.” And again his
narrowed eyes gleamed at his taciturn customer.
“No,” said Soames suddenly, “I prefer that you
should keep the watch going discreetly in Paris,
and not concern yourself with this end.”
“Very well,” replied Mr. Polteed, “we can do it.”
“What — what is the manner between them?”
“I’ll read you what she says,” said Mr. Polteed,
unlocking a bureau drawer and taking out a file of
papers; “she sums it up somewhere confidentially.
Yes, here it is! ‘17 very attractive — conclude 47,
1
longer in the tooth
’ (slang for age, you know) —
‘distinctly gone — waiting his time — 17 perhaps
holding off for terms, impossible to say without
knowing more. But inclined to think on the whole —
doesn’t know her mind — likely to act on impulse
some day. Both have style.’”
“What does that mean?” said Soames between
close lips.
“Well,” murmured Mr. Polteed with a smile,
showing many white teeth, “an expression we use. In
other words, it’s not likely to be a weekend busi
ness — they’ll come together seriously or not at all.”
“H’m!” muttered Soames, “that’s all, is it?”
PART II
1
longer in the tooth — (сленг) постарше будет
289
“Yes,” said Mr. Polteed, “but quite promising.”
‘Spider!’ thought Soames. “Goodday!”
He walked into the Green Park that he might
cross to Victoria Station and take the Under
ground into the City. For so late in January it was
IN CHANCERY
warm; sunlight, through the haze, sparkled on the
frosty grass — an illumined cobweb of a day.
Little spiders — and great spiders! And the
greatest spinner of all, his own tenacity, for ever
wrapping its cocoon of threads round any clear
way out. What was that fellow hanging round
Irene for? Was it really as Polteed suggested? Or
was Jolyon but taking compassion on her loneli
ness, as he would call it — sentimental radical chap
that he had always been? If it were, indeed, as
Polteed hinted! Soames stood still. It could not be!
The fellow was seven years older than himself, no
better looking! No richer! What attraction had he?
‘Besides, he’s come back,’ he thought; ‘that
doesn’t look — I’ll go and see him!’ and, taking
out a card, he wrote:
“If you can spare half an hour some afternoon this week,
I shall be at the Connoisseurs any day between 5.30 and
6, or I could come to the Hotch Potch if you prefer it. I
want to see you.
S. F.”
He walked up St. James’s Street and confided
it to the porter at the Hotch Potch.
290
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