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chanically clearing the letter-box. Just one letter—Wilfrid’s writing! He
“Not yet, sir. Come up to my study. It’s nearer.”
They went up side by side. That trim grey head, with the deep fur-
row between the eyes, and those eyes staring as if at pain behind them,
steadied Michael. Poor old chap! He was ‘for it,’ too! They were both
on ‘their uppers!’
“Have a peg, sir? I’ve got brandy here.”
“Yes,” said Soames. “Anything.”
With the brandies in their hands, half-raised, they listened—jerked
their hands up, drank. They were automatic, like two doll figures
worked by the same string.
“Cigarette, sir?” said Michael.
Soames nodded.
With the lighted cigarettes just not in their mouths, they listened,
put them in, took them out, puffed smoke. Michael had his right arm
tight across his chest. Soames his left. They formed a pattern, thus, side
by side.
“Bad to stick, sir. Sorry!”
Soames nodded. His teeth were clenched. Suddenly his hand re-
laxed.
“Listen!” he said. Sounds—different—confused!
Michael’s hand seized something, gripped it hard; it was cold,
thin—the hand of Soames. They sat thus, hand in hand, staring at the
doorway, for how long neither knew.
Suddenly that doorway darkened; a figure in grey stood there—
Annette!
“It is all r-right! A son!”
Chapter XV.
CALM
On waking from deep sleep next morning, Michael’s first thought
was: ‘Fleur is back!’ He then remembered.
To his: “O. K.?” whispered at her door, he received an emphatic
nod from the nurse.
In the midst of excited expectation he retained enough modernity
to think: ‘No more blurb! Go and eat your breakfast quietly!’
In the dining-room Soames was despising the broken egg before
took it to the foot of the stairs and read it with half his brain, the other
half wondering—wandering up there.
“DEAR MONT, – I start tomorrow to try and cross
Arabia. I thought you might like a line in case Arabia
crosses me. I have recovered my senses. The air here is too
clear for sentiment of any kind; and passion in exile soon
becomes sickly. I am sorry I made you so much disturbance. It was a mistake for me to go back to England after
the war, and hang about writing drivel for smart young
women and inky folk to read. Poor old England—she’s in
for a bad time. Give her my love; the same to yourselves.
“Yours ever,
“WILFRID DESERT.
“P. S. – If you’ve published the things I left behind,
send any royalties to me care of my governor. – W. D.”
Half Michael’s brain thought: ‘Well, that’s that! And the book
coming out today!’ Queer! Was Wilfrid right—was it all a blooming
gaff—the inky stream? Was one just helping on England’s sickness?
Ought they all to get on camels and ride the sun down? And yet, in
books were comfort and diversion; and they were wanted! England had
to go on—go on! ‘No retreat, no retreat, they must conquer or die who
have no retreat!’… God! There it was again! Back he flew upstairs, with
his ears covered and his eyes wild. The sounds ceased; Annette came
out to him.
“Her father, mon cher; try to find her father!”
“I have—I can’t!” gasped Michael.
“Try Green Street—Mrs. Dartie. Courage! All is normal—it will
be quite sewn, now.”
When he had rung up Green Street and been answered at last, he
sat with the door of his study open, waiting for ‘Old Forsyte’ to come.
Half his sight remarked a round hole burnt in his trouser leg—he hadn’t
even noticed the smell; hadn’t even realised that he had been smoking.
He must pull himself together for the ‘old man.’ He heard the bell ring,
and ran down to open.
“Well?” said Soames.
— 241 —
242
“Not yet, sir. Come up to my study. It’s nearer.”
They went up side by side. That trim grey head, with the deep furrow between the eyes, and those eyes staring as if at pain behind them,
steadied Michael. Poor old chap! He was ‘for it,’ too! They were both
on ‘their uppers!’
“Have a peg, sir? I’ve got brandy here.”
“Yes,” said Soames. “Anything.”
With the brandies in their hands, half-raised, they listened—jerked
their hands up, drank. They were automatic, like two doll figures
worked by the same string.
“Cigarette, sir?” said Michael.
Soames nodded.
With the lighted cigarettes just not in their mouths, they listened,
put them in, took them out, puffed smoke. Michael had his right arm
tight across his chest. Soames his left. They formed a pattern, thus, side
by side.
“Bad to stick, sir. Sorry!”
Soames nodded. His teeth were clenched. Suddenly his hand relaxed.
“Listen!” he said. Sounds—different—confused!
Michael’s hand seized something, gripped it hard; it was cold,
thin—the hand of Soames. They sat thus, hand in hand, staring at the
doorway, for how long neither knew.
Suddenly that doorway darkened; a figure in grey stood there—
Annette!
“It is all r-right! A son!”
Chapter XV.
CALM
On waking from deep sleep next morning, Michael’s first thought
was: ‘Fleur is back!’ He then remembered.
To his: “O. K.?” whispered at her door, he received an emphatic
nod from the nurse.
In the midst of excited expectation he retained enough modernity
to think: ‘No more blurb! Go and eat your breakfast quietly!’
In the dining-room Soames was despising the broken egg before
— 242 —
243
him. He looked up as Michael entered, and buried his face in his cup.
her little finger. “Isn’t he a monkey?” said her faint voice.
Michael nodded. A monkey clearly—but whether white—that was
the question!
“And you, sweetheart?”
“All right now, but it was—” She drew her breath in, and her eyes
darkened: “Ting, look!”
The Chinese dog, with nostrils delicately moving, drew backward
under Michael’s arm. His whole demeanour displayed a knowing criti-
cism. “Puppies,” he seemed to say, “we do it in China. Judgment re-
served!”
“What eyes!” said Michael: “We needn’t tell HIM that this was
brought from Chelsea by the doctor.”
Fleur gave the tiniest laugh.
“Put him down, Michael.”
Michael put him down, and he went to his corner.
“I mustn’t talk,” said Fleur, “but I want to, frightfully; as if I’d
been dumb for months.”
‘Just as I felt,’ thought Michael, ‘she’s been away, away some-
where, utterly away.’
“It was like being held down, Michael. Months of not being your-
self.”
Michael said softly: “Yes! the process IS behind the times! Has he
got any hair? My mother wants to know.”
Fleur revealed the head of the eleventh baronet, covered with dark
down.
“Like my grandmother’s; but it’ll get lighter. His eyes are going to
be grey. Oh! and, Michael, about godparents? Alison, of course—but
men?”
Michael dwelled a little before answering:
“I had a letter from Wilfrid yesterday. Would you like him? He’s
still out there, but I could hold the sponge for him in church.”
“Is he all right again?”
“He says so.”
He could not read the expression of her eyes, but her lips were
pouted slightly.
“Yes,” she said: “and I think one’s enough, don’t you? Mine never
gave me anything.”
“One of mine gave me a bible, and the other gave me a wigging.
Michael understood perfectly; they had sat hand in hand! He saw, too,
that the journal opened by his plate was of a financial nature.
“Anything about the meeting, sir? Your speech must read like one
o’clock!”
With a queer little sound Soames held out the paper. The headlines ran: “Stormy meeting—resignation of two directors—a vote of
confidence.” Michael skimmed down till he came to:
“Mr. Forsyte, the director involved, in a speech of some length,
said he had no intention of singing small. He deprecated the behaviour
of the shareholders; he had not been accustomed to meet with suspicions. He tendered his resignation.”
Michael dropped the sheet.
“By Jove!” he said—“‘Involved—suspicions.’ They’ve given it a
turn, as though—!”
“The papers!” said Soames, and resumed his egg.
Michael sat down, and stripped the skin off a banana. ‘“Nothing
became him like his death,”’ he thought: ‘Poor old boy!’
“Well, sir,” he said, “I was there, and all I can say is: You and my
father were the only two people who excited my respect.”
“That!” said Soames, putting down his spoon.
Michael perceived that he wished to be alone, and swallowing the
banana, went to his study. Waiting for his summons, he rang up his father.
“None the worse for yesterday, sir?”
Sir Lawrence’s voice came clear and thin, rather high.
“Poorer and wiser. What’s the bulletin?”
“Top-hole.”
“Our love to both. Your mother wants to know if he has any
hair?”
“Haven’t seen him yet. I’m just going.”
Annette, indeed, was beckoning him from the doorway.
“She wants you to bring the little dog, mon cher.”
With Ting-a-ling under his arm, and treading on tiptoe, Michael
entered. The eleventh baronet! He did not seem to amount to much, beneath her head bent over him. And surely her hair was darker! He
walked up to the bed, and touched it reverently.
Fleur raised her head, and revealed the baby sucking vigorously at
— 243 —
244
her little finger. “Isn’t he a monkey?” said her faint voice.
Michael nodded. A monkey clearly—but whether white—that was
the question!
“And you, sweetheart?”
“All right now, but it was—” She drew her breath in, and her eyes
darkened: “Ting, look!”
The Chinese dog, with nostrils delicately moving, drew backward
under Michael’s arm. His whole demeanour displayed a knowing criticism. “Puppies,” he seemed to say, “we do it in China. Judgment reserved!”
“What eyes!” said Michael: “We needn’t tell HIM that this was
brought from Chelsea by the doctor.”
Fleur gave the tiniest laugh.
“Put him down, Michael.”
Michael put him down, and he went to his corner.
“I mustn’t talk,” said Fleur, “but I want to, frightfully; as if I’d
been dumb for months.”
‘Just as I felt,’ thought Michael, ‘she’s been away, away somewhere, utterly away.’
“It was like being held down, Michael. Months of not being yourself.”
Michael said softly: “Yes! the process IS behind the times! Has he
got any hair? My mother wants to know.”
Fleur revealed the head of the eleventh baronet, covered with dark
down.
“Like my grandmother’s; but it’ll get lighter. His eyes are going to
be grey. Oh! and, Michael, about godparents? Alison, of course—but
men?”
Michael dwelled a little before answering:
“I had a letter from Wilfrid yesterday. Would you like him? He’s
still out there, but I could hold the sponge for him in church.”
“Is he all right again?”
“He says so.”
He could not read the expression of her eyes, but her lips were
pouted slightly.
“Yes,” she said: “and I think one’s enough, don’t you? Mine never
gave me anything.”
“One of mine gave me a bible, and the other gave me a wigging.
— 244 —
245
Wilfrid, then.” And he bent over her.
CONTENTS
PREFACE ..................................................................................................... 1
PART I ........................................................................................................... 5
Chapter I. .................................................................................................... 5
PROMENADE ........................................................................................... 5
Chapter II. .................................................................................................. 9
HOME ........................................................................................................ 9
Chapter III. ............................................................................................... 18
MUSICAL ................................................................................................ 18
Chapter IV. ............................................................................................... 23
DINING ................................................................................................... 23
Chapter V. ................................................................................................ 28
EVE .......................................................................................................... 28
Chapter VI. ............................................................................................... 31
‘OLD FORSYTE’ AND ‘OLD MONT’ .................................................. 31
Chapter VII. ............................................................................................. 37
‘OLD MONT’ AND ‘OLD FORSYTE’ .................................................. 37
Chapter VIII. ............................................................................................ 44
BICKET ................................................................................................... 44
Chapter IX. ............................................................................................... 52
CONFUSION ........................................................................................... 52
Chapter X. ................................................................................................ 61
PASSING OF A SPORTSMAN .............................................................. 61
Chapter XI. ............................................................................................... 69
VENTURE ............................................................................................... 69
Chapter XII. ............................................................................................. 73
FIGURES AND FACTS .......................................................................... 73
Chapter XIII. ............................................................................................ 81
TENTERHOOKS .................................................................................... 81
PART II ....................................................................................................... 85
Chapter I. .................................................................................................. 85
THE MARK FALLS ................................................................................ 85
Chapter II. ................................................................................................ 95
VICTORINE ............................................................................................ 95
Chapter III. ............................................................................................. 104
MICHAEL WALKS AND TALKS ....................................................... 104
Chapter IV. ............................................................................................. 113
FLEUR’S BODY ................................................................................... 113
Chapter V. .............................................................................................. 121
FLEUR’S SOUL .................................................................................... 121
Chapter VI. ............................................................................................. 125
MICHAEL GETS ‘WHAT-FOR’ .......................................................... 125
Her eyes seemed to make him a little ironic apology. He kissed
her hair, and moved hurriedly away.
By the door Soames was standing, awaiting his turn.
“Just a minute only, sir,” the nurse was saying.
Soames walked up to the bedside, and stood looking at his daughter.
“Dad, dear!” Michael heard her say.
Soames just touched her hand, nodded, as if implying approval of
the baby, and came walking back, but, in a mirror, Michael saw his lips
quivering.
On the ground floor once more, he had the most intense desire to
sing. It would not do; and, entering the Chinese room, he stood staring
out into the sunlit square. Gosh! It was good to be alive! Say what you
liked, you couldn’t beat it! They might turn their noses up at life, and
look down them at it; they might bolster up the future and the past,
but—give him the present!
‘I’ll have that white monkey up again!’ he thought. ‘I’ll see the
brute further before he shall depress me!’
He went out to a closet under the stairs, and, from beneath four
pairs of curtains done up in moth-preserver and brown paper, took out
the picture. He held it away from him in the dim light. The creature’s
eyes! It was all in those eyes!
“Never mind, old son!” he said: “Up you go!” And he carried it
into the Chinese room.
Soames was there.
“I’m going to put him up again, sir.”
Soames nodded.
“Would you hold him, while I hook the wire?”
Soames held the picture.
Returning to the copper floor, Michael said:
“All right, sir!” and stood back.
Soames joined him. Side by side they contemplated the white
monkey.
“He won’t be happy till he gets it,” said Michael at last: “The only
thing is, you see, he doesn’t know what IT is.”
— 245 —
246
CONTENTS
PREFACE ..................................................................................................... 3
PART I ........................................................................................................... 7
Chapter I ......................................................................................................7
Chapter II ................................................................................................... 11
Chapter III..................................................................................................20
Chapter IV .................................................................................................25
Chapter V...................................................................................................30
Chapter VI .................................................................................................33
Chapter VII ................................................................................................39
Chapter VIII...............................................................................................46
Chapter IX .................................................................................................54
Chapter X...................................................................................................63
Chapter XI .................................................................................................71
Chapter XII ................................................................................................75
Chapter XIII...............................................................................................83
PART II ....................................................................................................... 87
Chapter I ....................................................................................................87
Chapter II ...................................................................................................97
Chapter III................................................................................................106
Chapter IV ...............................................................................................115
Chapter V.................................................................................................123
Chapter VI ...............................................................................................127
Chapter VII ..............................................................................................135
Chapter VIII.............................................................................................141
Chapter IX ...............................................................................................148
Chapter X.................................................................................................154
Chapter XI ...............................................................................................157
Chapter XII ..............................................................................................162
PART III ................................................................................................... . 165
Chapter I ..................................................................................................165
Chapter II .................................................................................................171
Chapter III................................................................................................179
Chapter IV ...............................................................................................183
Chapter V.................................................................................................187
Chapter VI ...............................................................................................193
Chapter VII ..............................................................................................195
Chapter VIII.............................................................................................200
Chapter IX ...............................................................................................208
Chapter X.................................................................................................212
Chapter XI ...............................................................................................218
Chapter XII ..............................................................................................222
Chapter XIII.............................................................................................231
Chapter XIV.............................................................................................238
Chapter XV ..............................................................................................242
— 246 —
247
Литературно-художественное издание
John Galsworthy
The White Monkey
Выпускающий редактор: Э. Ефанова
Редактор: У. Синицына
Корректор: И. Серегина
Компьютерная верстка: Д. Пермяков
Художественное оформление: С. Дондупова
В оформлении обложки использованы материалы
по лицензии агентства © shutterstock.com
Проект осуществлён с помощью технологий
print on demand
16+
Знак информационной продукции согласно
Федеральному закону от 29.12.2010 г. № 436-ФЗ.
Подписано в печать 10.01.2017
Формат 60х90/16
Усл. печ. л. 15,50
ISBN 978-5-521-05458-9
9 785521 054589
Отпечатано: АО «Т8 Издательские Технологии»
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