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,and said:
"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 broughtit up to date--11.15 o'clock this morning _anno domini_." And as Mr.Slosson continued to drum on the table and to look out of the window,Edward Henry also drummed on the table and looked out of the window.
The chamber of the senior partner was a very different matter fromMr. Vulto's. It was immense. It was not disfigured by japanned boxesinartistically lettered in white, as are most lawyer's offices. Indeedin 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; inthe shape of his collar, the colour of his necktie, the style of hiscreaseless boots; and in the protuberance of his pocket-book in hispocket.
As Mr. Slosson had failed to notice the competition of his drumming,he drummed still louder. Whereupon Mr. Slosson stopped drumming.Edward Henry gazed amiably around. Right at the back of theroom--before a back-window that gave on the whitewashed wall--a manwas rapidly putting his signature to a number of papers. But Mr.Slosson had ignored the existence of this man, treating him apparentlyas a figment of the disordered 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 hasalready outlined your policy of masterly inactivity. So I may as wellgo. I did say I'd go to my solicitors. But it's occurred to me that asI'm a principal I may as well first of all see the principals on theother side. I only came here because it mentions in the option thatthe matter is to be completed here--that's all."
"You a principal!" exclaimed Mr. Slosson. "It seems to me you're along way removed from a principal. The alleged option is given to aMiss Rose Euclid--"
"Excuse me--_the_ Miss Rose Euclid."
"Miss Rose Euclid. She divides up her alleged interest into fractions,and 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'llgo and 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. Wrissel," 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 Henryhad ever heard. His lounging and yet elegant walk assorted well withthe accent. His black clothes were loose and untidy. Such boots ashis could not have been worn by Edward Henry even in the Five Townswithout blushing shame, and his necktie looked as if a baby or apuppy had been playing with it. Nevertheless, these shortcomings madeabsolutely no difference whatever to the impressivness of Mr. RolloWrissell, who was famous for having said once, "I put on whatevercomes to hand first, and people 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, Scotlandand Ireland. The members of these families may be divided into twospecies: those who rule, and those who are too lofty in spirit evento rule--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-patronizers. 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 wasthat in a properly--managed world nothing ought to occur to disturb oragitate the perfect tranquillity of his existing. And this convictionwas so profound, so visible even in his lightest gesture andglance, that it exerted a mystic influence over the entire socialorganism--with the result that practically nothing ever did occur todisturb or agitate the perfect tranquillity of Mr. Rollo Wrissell'sexisting. For Mr. Rollo Wrissell 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. Wrissellthan he had been by the much vaster reputations of Rose Euclid, SevenSachs and Mr. Slosson, senior. At the same time he inwardly foughtagainst Mr. Wrissell's silent and unconscious dominion over him, andall the defiant Midland belief that one body is as good as anybodyelse surged up in him--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--themost absolute 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 allmy sympathies. But of course you understand that in this particularcase ... I myself have taken up the lease from the estate. I happento be 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 hiswords. A surfeit of Mr. Wrissell's calm egotism and accent andfatigued harmonious gestures drove him to commit this outrage upon thevery fabric of civilization.
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 thepages of a slang dictionary. A tragic expression traversed hisbewildered features--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. Hecould not tolerate scenes, and his glance showed that any forciblederangement of his habit of existing smoothly would nakedly disclosethe unyielding adamantine selfishness that was the basis of theWrissell philosophy. His glance was at least harsh and bitter. He wentin silence, and rapidly. Mr. Slosson, senior, followed him at a greatpace.
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 ancientbut powerful 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, andit isn't stamped."
br />
"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 aswell as 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."Then further, 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 pocket-book fromhis breast. "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 shan'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 thelate Lord Woldo's hand, enclosing the option."
"Let me see it, please."
"Certainly--but in a court of law," said Edward Henry. "You knowyou're hungry for a good action, followed by a bill of costs as longas from here 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, sheand Mr. Wrissell are not entirely at one in the conduct of her and herson's interests. 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, excitedand 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 excellentidea of effect, brought the admirable vehicle to the kerb exactlyin front of Edward Henry as Edward Henry reached the edge of thepavement. Ejaculating a brief command, Edward Henry disappeared withinthe vehicle and was whirled away in a style whose perfection no scionof a governing family could have bettered.