III.
Mr. Slosson, senior, heard Edward Henry's story, but seemingly did notfind it quite as interesting as he had prophesied it would be. WhenEdward Henry had finished the old man drummed on an enormous table, andsaid:
"Yes, yes. And then?" His manner was far less bullying than in theroom of Mr. Vulto.
"It's your turn now, Mr. Slosson," said Edward Henry.
"My turn? How?"
"To go on with the story." He glanced at the clock. "I've brought itup to date--eleven fifteen o'clock this morning, _anno domini_." And asMr. Slosson continued to drum on the table and to look out of thewindow, Edward Henry also drummed on the table and looked out of thewindow.
The chamber of the senior partner was a very different matter from Mr.Vulto's. It was immense. It was not disfigured by japanned boxesinartistically lettered in white, as are most lawyers' offices. Indeed,in aspect it resembled one of the cosier rooms in a small and decayingbut still comfortable club. It had easy chairs and cigar-boxes.Moreover, the sun got into it, and there was a view of the comic yetstately Victorian Gothic of the Law Courts. The sun enheartened EdwardHenry. And he felt secure in an unimpugnable suit of clothes; in theshape of his collar, the colour of his necktie, the style of hiscreaseless boots; and in the protuberance of his pocketbook in hispocket.
As Mr. Slosson had failed to notice the competition of his drumming, hedrummed still louder. Whereupon Mr. Slosson stopped drumming. EdwardHenry gazed amiably around. Right at the back of the room, before aback window that gave on the whitewashed wall, a man was rapidly puttinghis signature to a number of papers. But Mr. Slosson had ignored theexistence of this man, treating him apparently as a figment of thedisordered brain, or as an optical illusion.
"I've nothing to say," said Mr. Slosson.
"Or to do?"
"Or to do."
"Well, Mr. Slosson," said Edward Henry, "your junior partner has alreadyoutlined your policy of masterly inactivity. So I may as well go. Idid say I'd go to my solicitors; but it's occurred to me that as I'm aprincipal I may as well first of all see the principals on the otherside. I only came here because it mentions in the option that thematter is to be completed here; that's all."
"You a principal!" exclaimed Mr. Slosson. "It seems to me you're a longway removed from a principal. The alleged option is given to a MissRose Euclid."
"Excuse me--_the_ Miss Rose Euclid."
"Miss Rose Euclid. She divides up her alleged interest into fractionsand sells them here and there, and you buy them up one after another."Mr. Slosson laughed, not unamiably. "You're a principal about fivetimes removed."
"Well," said Edward Henry, "whatever I am, I have a sort of idea I'll goand see this Mr. Gristle or Wrissell. Can you--"
The man at the distant desk turned his head. Mr. Slosson coughed. Theman rose.
"This is Mr. Wrissell," said Mr. Slosson with a gesture from whichconfusion was not absent.
"Good morning," said the advancing Mr. Rollo Wrissell, and he said itwith an accent more Kensingtonian than any accent that Edward Henry hadever heard. His lounging and yet elegant walk assorted well with theaccent. His black clothes were loose and untidy. Such boots as hiscould not have been worn by Edward Henry even in the Five Towns withoutblushing shame, and his necktie looked as if a baby or a puppy had beenplaying with it. Nevertheless, these shortcomings made absolutely nodifference whatever to the impressiveness of Mr. Rollo Wrissell, who wasfamous for having said once: "I put on whatever comes to hand first, andpeople don't seem to mind."
Mr. Rollo Wrissell belonged to one of the seven great families whichonce governed--and, by the way, still do govern--England, Scotland, andIreland. The members of these families may be divided into two species:those who rule, and those who are too lofty in spirit even torule--those who exist. Mr. Rollo Wrissell belonged to the latterspecies. His nose and mouth had the exquisite refinement of thedescendant of generations of art-collectors and poet-patronisers. Heenjoyed life, but not with rude activity, like the grosser members ofthe ruling caste, rather with a certain rare languor. He sniffed andsavoured the whole spherical surface of the apple of life with thosedelicate nostrils rather than bit into it. His one conviction was thatin a properly managed world nothing ought to occur to disturb or agitatethe perfect tranquillity of his existing. And this conviction was soprofound, so visible even in his lightest gesture and glance, that itexerted a mystic influence over the entire social organism, with theresult that practically nothing ever did occur to disturb or agitate theperfect tranquillity of Mr. Rollo Wrissell's existing. For Mr. RolloWrissell the world was indeed almost ideal.
Edward Henry breathed to himself:
"This is the genuine article."
And, being an Englishman, he was far more impressed by Mr. Wrissell thanhe had been by the much vaster reputations of Rose Euclid, Seven Sachs,Mr. Slosson, senior. At the same time he inwardly fought against Mr.Wrissell's silent and unconscious dominion over him, and all the defiantMidland belief that one body is as good as anybody else surged up inhim--but stopped at his lips.
"Please don't rise," Mr. Wrissell entreated, waving both hands. "I'mvery sorry to hear of this unhappy complication," he went on to EdwardHenry with the most adorable and winning politeness. "It pains me."(His martyred expression said: "And really I ought not to be pained.")"I'm quite convinced that you are here in absolute good faith--the mostabsolute good faith, Mr.--"
"Machin," suggested Mr. Slosson.
"Ah! Pardon me, Mr. Machin. And, naturally, in the management ofenormous estates such as Lord Woldo's little difficulties are apt tooccur.... I'm sorry you've been put in a false position. You have all mysympathies. But of course you understand that in this particularcase.... I myself have taken up the lease from the estate. I happen tobe interested in a great movement. The plans of my church have beenpassed by the county council. Building operations have indeed begun."
"Oh, chuck it!" said Edward Henry inexcusably--but such were his words.A surfeit of Mr. Wrissell's calm egotism and accent and fatiguedharmonious gestures drove him to commit this outrage upon the veryfabric of civilisation.
Mr. Wrissell, if he had ever met with the phrase,--which isdoubtful,--had certainly never heard it addressed to himself;conceivably he might have once come across it in turning over the pagesof a slang dictionary. A tragic expression traversed his bewilderedfeatures; and then he recovered himself somewhat.
"I--"
"Go and bury yourself!" said Edward Henry, with increased savagery.
Mr. Wrissell, having comprehended, went. He really did go. He couldnot tolerate scenes, and his glance showed that any forcible derangementof his habit of existing smoothly would nakedly disclose the unyieldingadamantine selfishness that was the basis of the Wrissell philosophy.His glance was at least harsh and bitter. He went in silence, andrapidly. Mr. Slosson, senior, followed him at a great pace.
Edward Henry was angry. Strange though it may seem, the chief cause ofhis anger was the fact that his own manners and breeding were lower,coarser, clumsier, more brutal, than Mr. Wrissell's.
After what appeared to be a considerable absence Mr. Slosson, senior,returned into the room. Edward Henry, steeped in peculiar meditations,was repeating:
"So this is Slosson's!"
"What's that?" demanded Mr. Slosson with a challenge in his ancient butpowerful voice.
"Nowt!" said Edward Henry.
"Now, sir," said Mr. Slosson, "we'd better come to an understandingabout this so-called option. It's not serious, you know."
"You'll find it is."
"It's not commercial."
"I fancy it is--for me!" said Edward Henry.
"The premium mentioned is absurdly inadequate, and the ground-rent isquite improperly low."
"That's just why I look on it as commercial--from my point of view,"said Edward Henry.
"It isn't worth the paper it's written on," said Mr. Slosson.
"Why?"
"Because, seeing the unusual form of it, it ought to be stamped, and itisn't stamped."
"Listen here, Mr. Slosson," said Edward Henry, "I want you to rememberthat you're talking to a lawyer."
"A lawyer?"
"I was in the law for years," said Edward Henry. "And you know as wellas I do that I can get the option stamped at any time by paying apenalty, which at worst will be a trifle compared to the value of theoption."
"Ah!" Mr. Slosson paused, and resumed his puffing, whichexercise--perhaps owing to undue excitement--he had pretermitted. "Thenfurther, the deed isn't drawn up."
"That's not my fault."
"Further, the option is not transferable."
"We shall see about that."
"And the money ought to be paid down to-day, even on your ownshowing--every cent of it, in cash."
"Here is the money," said Edward Henry, drawing his pocketbook from hisbreast. "Every cent of it, in the finest brand of bank-notes!"
He flung down the notes with the impulsive gesture of an artist; then,with the caution of a man of the world, gathered them in again.
"The whole circumstances under which the alleged option is alleged tohave been given would have to be examined," said Mr. Slosson.
"_I_ sha'n't mind," said Edward Henry; "others might."
"There is such a thing as undue influence."
"Miss Euclid is fifty if she's a day," replied Edward Henry.
"I don't see what Miss Euclid's age has to do with the matter."
"Then your eyesight must be defective, Mr. Slosson."
"The document might be a forgery."
"It might. But I've got an autograph letter written entirely in thelast Lord Woldo's hand, enclosing the option."
"Let me see it, please."
"Certainly, but in a court of law," said Edward Henry. "You know you'rehungry for a good action, followed by a bill of costs as long as fromhere to Jericho."
"Mr. Wrissell will assuredly fight," said Mr. Slosson. "He has alreadygiven me the most explicit instructions. Mr. Wrissell's objection to acertain class of theatres is well-known."
"And does Mr. Wrissell settle everything?"
"Mr. Wrissell and Lady Woldo settle everything between them, and LadyWoldo is guided by Mr. Wrissell. There is an impression abroad thatbecause Lady Woldo was originally connected--er--with the stage, she andMr. Wrissell are not entirely at one in the conduct of her and her son'sinterests. Nothing could be further from the fact."
Edward Henry's thoughts dwelt for a few moments upon the late LordWoldo's picturesque and far-resounding marriage.
"Can you give me Lady Woldo's address?"
"I can't," said Mr. Slosson after an instant's hesitation.
"You mean you won't!"
Mr. Slosson pursed his lips.
"Well, you can do the other thing!" said Edward Henry, insolent to thelast.
As he left the premises he found Mr. Rollo Wrissell and his own newacquaintance, Mr. Alloyd, the architect, chatting in the portico. Mr.Wrissell was calm, bland, and attentive; Mr. Alloyd was eager, excited,and deferential.
Edward Henry caught the words "Russian ballet." He reflected upon anabstract question oddly disconnected with the violent welter of hissensations: "Can a man be a good practical architect who isn't able tosleep because he's seen a Russian ballet?"
The alert chauffeur of the electric brougham, who had an excellent ideaof effect, brought the admirable vehicle to the curb exactly in front ofEdward Henry as Edward Henry reached the edge of the pavement.Ejaculating a brief command, Edward Henry disappeared within thevehicle, and was whirled away in a style whose perfection no scion of agoverning family could have bettered.