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Файл:Сага о Форсайтах. В петле. Книга для чтения на английском языке
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a byword1; you refused me a child; you’ve left me
in prison; you — you still move me so that I want
you — I want you. Well, what do you think of
yourself?”
Irene turned, her face was deadly pale, her eyes
burning dark. “God made me as I am,” she said;
“wicked if you like — but not so wicked that I’ll
give myself again to a man I hate.”
The sunlight gleamed on her hair as she moved
away, and seemed to lay a caress all down her
clinging creamcoloured frock.
Soames could neither speak nor move. That
word ‘hate’ — so extreme, so primitive — made all
the Forsyte in him tremble. With a deep impreca
tion he strode away from where she had vanished,
and ran almost into the arms of the lady saunter
ing back — the fool, the shadowing fool!
He was soon dripping with perspiration, in the
depths of the Bois.
‘Well,’ he thought, ‘I need have no consider
ation for her now; she has not a grain of it for me.
I’ll show her this very day that she’s my wife still.’
But on the way home to his hotel, he was forced
to the conclusion that he did not know what he
meant. One could not make scenes in public, and
short of scenes in public what was there he could
do? He almost cursed his own thinskinnedness.
PART III
1
a byword — (зд.) притча во языцех
321
She might deserve no consideration; but he — alas!
deserved some at his own hands. And sitting lunch
less in the hall of his hotel, with tourists passing
1
every moment, Baedeker
by black dejection. In irons! His whole life, with
IN CHANCERY
in hand, he was visited
every natural instinct and every decent yearning
gagged and fettered, and all because Fate had
driven him seventeen years ago to set his heart
upon this woman — so utterly, that even now he
had no real heart to set on any other! Cursed was
the day he had met her, and his eyes for seeing in
her anything but the cruel Venus she was! And yet,
still seeing her with the sunlight on the clinging
2
China crêpe
of her gown, he uttered a little groan,
so that a tourist who was passing, thought: ‘Man
in pain! Let’s see! what did I have for lunch?’
Later, in front of a café near the Opera, over a
glass of cold tea with lemon and a straw in it, he
took the malicious resolution to go and dine at her
hotel. If she were there, he would speak to her; if
she were not, he would leave a note. He dressed
carefully, and wrote as follows:
“Your idyll with that fellow Jolyon Forsyte is known to
me at all events. If you pursue it, understand that I will leave
no stone unturned to make things unbearable for him.
‘S. F.”
1
Baedeker — путеводитель, изданный К. Бедекером
2
China crêpe — крепдешин (материал)
322
He sealed this note but did not address it, refusing
to write the maiden name which she had impudently
resumed, or to put the word Forsyte on the envelope
lest she should tear it up unread. Then he went out,
and made his way through the glowing streets, aban
doned to evening pleasureseekers. Entering her ho
tel, he took his seat in a far corner of the diningroom
whence he could see all entrances and exits. She was
not there. He ate little, quickly, watchfully. She did
not come. He lingered in the lounge over his coffee,
drank two liqueurs of brandy. But still she did not
come. He went over to the keyboard and examined
the names. Number twelve, on the first floor! And he
determined to take the note up himself. He mounted
redcarpeted stairs, past a little salon; eightten
twelve! Should he knock, push the note under, or..?
He looked furtively round and turned the handle. The
door opened, but into a little space leading to another
door; he knocked on that — no answer. The door was
locked. It fitted very closely to the floor; the note
would not go under. He thrust it back into his pocket,
and stood a moment listening. He felt somehow
certain that she was not there. And suddenly he came
away, passing the little salon down the stairs. He
stopped at the bureau and said: “Will you kindly see
that Mrs. Heron has this note?”
“Madame Heron left today, Monsieur — sud
denly, about three o’clock. There was illness in her
family.”
PART III
323
Soames compressed his lips. “Oh!” he said; “do
you know her address?”
1
“Non, Monsieur.
England, I think.”
Soames put the note back into his pocket and
went out. He hailed an open horsecab which was
IN CHANCERY
passing. “Drive me anywhere!”
The man, who, obviously, did not understand,
smiled, and waved his whip. And Soames was borne
along in that little yellowwheeled Victoria all over
starshaped Paris, with here and there a pause, and
2
the question, “C’est par ici, Monsieur?
” “No, go on,”
till the man gave it up in despair, and the yellow
wheeled chariot continued to roll between the tall,
flatfronted shuttered houses and planetree ave
nues — a little Flying Dutchman of a cab.
‘Like my life,’ thought Soames, ‘without object,
on and on!’
Chapter II
IN THE WEB
Soames returned to England the following day,
and on the third morning received a visit from Mr.
Polteed, who wore a flower and carried a brown
billycock hat. Soames motioned him to a seat.
324
1
Non, Monsieur. — (фр.) Нет, мсье.
2
C’est par ici, Monsieur? — (фр.) Сюда, мсье?
“The news from the war is not so bad, is it?”
said Mr. Polteed. “I hope I see you well, sir.”
“Thanks! quite.”
Mr. Polteed leaned forward, smiled, opened his
hand, looked into it, and said softly: “I think we’ve
done your business for you at last.”
“What?” ejaculated Soames.
“Nineteen reports quite suddenly what I think
we shall be justified in calling conclusive evidence,”
and Mr. Polteed paused.
“Well?”
“On the 10th instant, after witnessing an in
terview between 17 and a party, earlier in the day,
19 can swear to having seen him coming out of
her bedroom in the hotel about ten o’clock in the
evening. With a little care in the giving of the evid
ence that will be enough, especially as 17 has left
Paris — no doubt with the party in question. In
fact, they both slipped off, and we haven’t got on
to them again, yet; but we shall — we shall. She’s
worked hard under very difficult circumstances,
and I’m glad she’s brought it off at last.” Mr. Pol
teed took out a cigarette, tapped its end against
the table, looked at Soames, and put it back. The
expression on his client’s face was not encour
aging.
“Who is this new person?” said Soames abruptly.
“That we don’t know. She’ll swear to the fact,
and she’s got his appearance pat.”
PART III
325
Mr. Polteed took out a letter, and began read
ing: “‘Middleaged, medium height, blue dittoes in
afternoon, evening dress at night, pale, dark hair,
small dark moustache, flat cheeks, good chin, grey
eyes, small feet, guilty look…’”
IN CHANCERY
Soames rose and went to the window. He stood
there in sardonic fury. Congenital idiot — spidery
congenital idiot! Seven months at fifteen pounds
a week — to be tracked down as his own wife’s
lover! Guilty look! He threw the window open.
“It’s hot,” he said, and came back to his seat.
Crossing his knees, he bent a supercilious glance
on Mr. Polteed. “I doubt if that’s quite good enough,”
he said, drawling the words, “with no name or ad
dress. I think you may let that lady have a rest, and
take up our friend 47 at this end.” Whether Polteed
had spotted him he could not tell; but he had a men
tal vision of him in the midst of his cronies dissolved
in inextinguishable laughter. ‘Guilty look!’ Damna
tion!
Mr. Polteed said in a tone of urgency, almost
of pathos: “I assure you we have put it through
sometimes on less than that. It’s Paris, you know.
Attractive woman living alone. Why not risk it,
sir? We might screw it up a peg.”
Soames had sudden insight. The fellow’s profes
sional zeal was stirred: ‘Greatest triumph of my ca
reer; got a man his divorce through a visit to his own
wife’s bedroom! Something to talk of there, when I
326
retire!’ And for one wild moment he thought: ‘Why
not?’ After all, hundreds of men of medium height
had small feet and a guilty look!
“I’m not authorised to take any risk!” he said
shortly.
Mr. Polteed looked up. “Pity,” he said, “quite a
pity! That other affair seemed very costive.”
Soames rose. “Never mind that. Please watch
1
47, and take care not to find a mare’s nest
. Good
morning!”
Mr. Polteed’s eye glinted at the words ‘mare’s nest!’
“Very good. You shall be kept informed.”
And Soames was alone again. The spidery, dirty,
ridiculous business! Laying his arms on the table, he
leaned his forehead on them. Full ten minutes he
rested thus, till a managing clerk roused him with
the draft prospectus of a new issue of shares, very
desirable, in Manifold and Topping’s. That after
noon he left work early and made his way to the Res
taurant Bretagne. Only Madame Lamotte was in.
Would Monsieur have tea with her? Soames bowed.
When they were seated at right angles to each
other in the little room, he said abruptly: “I want
a talk with you, Madame.” The quick lift of her
clear brown eyes told him that she had long ex
pected such words.
PART III
1
take care not to find a mare’s nest — (сленг) постарай
тесь не попасть пальцем в небо
327
“I have to ask you something first: That young
doctor — what’s his name? Is there anything be
tween him and Annette?”
Her whole personality had become, as it were,
like jet — clearcut, black, hard, shining. “Annette
IN CHANCERY
is young,” she said; “so is monsieur le docteur
1
tween young people things move quickly; but An
nette is a good daughter. Ah! what a jewel of a na
ture!”
The least little smile twisted Soames’ lips. “Nothing
definite, then?”
“But definite — no, indeed! The young man is
veree nice, but — what would you? There is no
money at present.”
She raised her willowpatterned teacup; Soames
did the same. Their eyes met.
“I am a married man,” he said, “living apart from
my wife for many years. I am seeking to divorce
her.”
Madame Lamotte put down her cup. Indeed!
What tragic things there were! The entire absence
of sentiment in her inspired a queer species of con
tempt in Soames.
“I am a rich man,” he added, fully conscious
that the remark was not in good taste. “It is use
less to say more at present, but I think you under
stand.”
. Be
328
1
monsieur le docteur — (фр.) господин доктор
Madame’s eyes, so open that the whites showed
above them, looked at him very straight.
1
“Ah! ça — mais nous avons le temps!
” was all she
said. “Another little cup?” Soames refused, and,
taking his leave, walked westward.
He had got that off his mind; she would not
let Annette commit herself with that cheerful
young ass until..! But what chance of his ever
being able to say: ‘I’m free.’ What chance? The
future had lost all semblance of reality. He felt
like a fly, entangled in cobweb filaments, watch
ing the desirable freedom of the air with pitiful
eyes.
He was short of exercise, and wandered on to
Kensington Gardens, and down Queen’s Gate to
wards Chelsea. Perhaps she had gone back to
her flat. That at all events he could find out. For
since that last and most ignominious repulse his
wounded selfrespect had taken refuge again in the
feeling that she must have a lover. He arrived
before the little Mansions at the dinnerhour. No
need to enquire! A greyhaired lady was watering
the flowerboxes in her window. It was evident
ly let. And he walked slowly past again, along
the river — an evening of clear, quiet beauty, all
harmony and comfort, except within his heart.
PART III
1
Ah! ça — mais nous avons le temps! — (фр.) Ах, вот в
чем дело, но нам незачем торопиться!
329
Chapter III
RICHMOND PARK
On the afternoon that Soames crossed to France
a cablegram was received by Jolyon at Robin Hill:
IN CHANCERY
“Your son down with enteric no immediate danger will
cable again.”
It reached a household already agitated by the
imminent departure of June, whose berth was booked
for the following day. She was, indeed, in the act of
confiding Eric Cobbley and his family to her father’s
care when the message arrived.
The resolution to become a Red Cross nurse,
taken under stimulus of Jolly’s enlistment, had
been loyally fulfilled with the irritation and regret
which all Forsytes feel at what curtails their indi
vidual liberties. Enthusiastic at first about the
‘wonderfulness’ of the work, she had begun after a
month to feel that she could train herself so much
better than others could train her. And if Holly
had not insisted on following her example, and
being trained too, she must inevitably have ‘cried
1
. The departure of Jolly and Val with their
off’
troop in April had further stiffened her failing re
solve. But now, on the point of departure, the
330
1
cried off — (разг.) отказалась; пошла на попятный
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