`What difference would that make?' He was silent for a long time. When he looked at her again his eyes were cold.
`You mean that you were prepared to marry the Governor of Bengal, but not a retired Indian Civilian on a pension.’
`When it comes down to brass tacks I suppose that is really what it amounts to.’
`In that case we need not discuss the matter further.’
`There doesn't seem much point in doing so, does there?' Again he was silent. He was very grave and his face showed no indication of what he was thinking. He was humiliated, poor man, and bitterly disappointed in her, but at the same time Mary was pretty sure he was infinitely relieved. But that was the last thing he proposed to let her see. At last he hoisted himself out of his chair.
`There seems no object in my staying in Florence any longer. Unless, of course, you'd like me to stay in case there's any bother over - over that man who killed himself.’
`Oh no, I think that's quite unnecessary.’
`In that case I shall go back to London tomorrow. Perhaps I had better say good-bye to you now.’
`Good-bye, Edgar. And forgive me.’
`I have nothing to forgive.’
He took her hand and kissed it, then with a dignity in which there was nothing absurd walked slowly down the grass patch and in a moment was hidden by the box hedge. She heard his car drive away.
9
THE interview had tired Mary. She had had no natural rest for two nights and now, lulled by the smoothness of the summer air and the monotonous, pleasant chattering of the cicadas, the only sound that disturbed the silence, she fell asleep. In an hour she woke refreshed. She took a stroll in the old garden and then made up her mind to sit on the terrace so that she could look again at the city below her by the lovely light of the declining day. But as she passed the house Ciro, the manservant, came out to her.
`Signor Rolando is on the phone, Signora,' he said.
`Ask him to leave a message.’
`He wishes to speak to you, Signora.’
Mary shrugged her shoulders slightly. She did not particularly want to speak to Rowley just then; but it occurred to her that he might have something to tell her. The thought of that poor boy's body lying on the hillside was always on her mind. She went to the telephone.
`Have you got any ice in the house?' he said.
`Is it to ask me that that you made me come to the phone?' she answered coldly.
`Not entirely. I wanted to ask you also if you had any gin and vermouth’
`Anything else?'
`Yes. I wanted to ask if you'd give me a cocktail if I got into a taxi and came along.’
`I've got a lot to do.’
`That's fine. IT come along and help you' Shrugging her shoulders a trifle irritably, Mary told Ciro to bring what was wanted to make a cocktail and went out on to the terrace. She was eager to get away from Florence as quickly as possible. She hated it now, but she did not want her departure to arouse comment. Perhaps it was just as well Rowley was coming; she would ask him. It was rather absurd, when you came to think of it, that she should rely so entirely on someone who was so notoriously unreliable. Fifteen minutes later he was with her. It was a strange contrast he made with Edgar as he walked across the terrace. Edgar, with his height and his spareness, had-looked wonderfully distinguished; he had a natural dignity and the assured air of a man who had been accustomed for many years to the obedience of others. If you had seen him in a crowd you would have asked who that man was whose face was so full of character and whose manner bespoke authority. Rowley, rather short, rather stocky, wearing his clothes as though they were a workman's overalls, slouched across, with his hands as usual in his pockets, with a kind of lazy impudence, debonair and careless, which, Mary was bound to admit, had a certain attractiveness. With his smiling mouth and the good-humoured mockery of his grey eyes, of course not a person you could take seriously, but one who was easy to get on with. It suddenly occurred to Mary why notwithstanding his faults (and disregarding the great service he had rendered her) she felt so much at ease with him. You could be entirely yourself. You never had to pretend with him, first because he had a keen eye for any sort of humbug and only laughed at you, and then because he never pretended himself. He mixed himself a cocktail, drank it at a gulp and then sank comfortably into an arm-chair. He gave her a roguish look.
`Well, darling, so the Empire-builder's tamed you down.’
`How d'you know?’ she asked quickly.
`I put two and two together. When he came back to the hotel he asked about trains and when he found he could catch the Rome-Paris Express tonight he ordered a car to take him to Pisa. I surmised that if it hadn't been a bust he would hardly have left with such precipitation. I told you it was stupid of you to spill the beans. You couldn't expect a man like that to swallow that story of yours.’
It was no good making a tragedy of it when Rowley took it so flippantly. Mary smiled.
`He behaved very well.’
`He would. I'm sure he behaved like a perfect gentleman.
`He is a perfect gentleman.’
`Which is a damned sight more than I am. I'm a gentleman by birth, but not by nature.’
`You don't have to tell me that, Rowley.’
`You're not sore, are you?’
`I? No, I don't ask you to believe me, but the truth is that as we talked it all over I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't marry him at any price!’
`You're well out of it. I didn't want to say too much as you seemed so set on marrying him, but you'd have been bored to death. I know women. You're not the sort of woman to marry an Empire-builder.’
`He's a great man, Rowley.’
`I know he is. He's a great man posing as a great man. That's what's so fantastic about him. It's like Charlie Chaplin impersonating Charlie Chaplin.’
`I want to get away from here, Rowley.’
`I see no reason why you shouldn't. A change will do you good.’
`You've been very kind to me. I shall miss you.’
`Oh, but I think we shall see a great deal of one another in the future.’
`What makes you think that?’
`Well, because as far as I can see there doesn't seem much else for you to do but to marry me.’
She sat up and stared at him.
`What do you mean?’
`Well, a lot has happened since then and I dare say it's slipped your memory, but I did make you a proposal of marriage the other night. You don't suppose I took your answer as final. So far, every woman I've asked to marry me always has, you know.’
`I thought you were joking. You couldn't really want to marry me now.’
He sat back in the armchair, smoking a cigarette, a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his good-natured eyes; and his tone was so casual that you would have thought he was indulging only in badinage.
`You see, my dear, the advantage of me is that I'm a bad hat. A lot of people reproach me for the things I've done; I dare say they're right; I don't think I've done anyone much harm - women have liked me and I have a naturally affectionate disposition, so the rest followed almost automatically; but anyhow I've got neither the right nor the inclination to reproach other people for what they've done. Live and let live has been my motto. You see, I'm not an Empire-builder, I'm not a man of character with an unimpeachable reputation, I'm just an easy-going chap with a bit of money who likes to have a good time. You say I'm a rotter and an idler. Well. what about reforming me? I've got an estate in Kenya and I'm sacking my manager because he's no good; I've been thinking it mightn't be a bad idea if I went out and managed it myself. Perhaps it is about time that I settled down. You might like the life there.’
He waited a moment for her to speak, but she said nothing. She was so surprised and all he said was so unexpected that she could only look at him as though she scarcely understood. He went on, talking with a slight drawl, as though what he was saying were rather funny and he expected her to be amused by it.
/> `You know, you were quite right in saying that at first I only wanted to have an affair with you. Well, why not? You're very beautiful. I should be a funny sort of cove if I hadn't wanted to do something about you. But the other evening when we were driving you said one or two things that rather touched me. I couldn't help thinking you rather sweet.’
`A lot of things have happened since then.’
`I know, and I don't mind telling you that at one moment I was very angry with you.’
She gave him a glance from under her eyelashes.
`Is that why you hit me?”
‘When you got out of the car, d'you mean? I hit you because I wanted you to stop crying.’
`You hurt me.’
`That was the idea.’
Mary, looked down. When she told Edgar what had passed between her and that unfortunate boy, his face had gone grey with anguish. He had been profoundly shocked. But she had felt that what afflicted him was that she could thus have sullied the purity which he so prized in her; the truth was that he loved not the woman she was now, but still the pretty little girl to whom he gave chocolates and who had fascinated him by her ingenuous and childish innocence. It was the sexual jealousy of the male, baulked in his desire, that had caused Rowley to give her that vicious blow; it was odd what a strange, proud feeling it gave her suddenly to know that. She could not help giving him a look in which there was the suspicion of a smile. Their eyes met.
`But I'm not angry with you any more. You see, I liked your sending for me when you were in a hell of a mess. And then the way you kept your head - it looked pretty sticky at one moment; you've got nerve all right and I liked that too. Of course you behaved like a perfect idiot. But it showed you had a generous heart, and, to tell you the truth, not many of the sort of women I've known had that. I love you terribly, Mary.’
`How strange men are!’ she sighed.
`Both of you, Edgar and you, attach so much importance to something that really doesn't very much matter. What really matters, what wrings my heart, is that that poor, friendless boy through my fault should lie dead and unburied under the open sky.’
`He's just as well off there as in a cemetery. You can't bring him back to a life he had no use for by grieving over him. What does he mean to you really? Nothing. If he passed you in the street tomorrow you probably wouldn't even recognize him. Clear your mind of cant. That's what Dr. Johnson said, and damned good advice it was.’
She opened her eyes wide.
`What on earth do you know about Dr. Johnson?’
`In the leisure moments of an ill-spent life I've read a good deal. Old Sam Johnson is rather a favourite of mine. He had a lot of common sense and he knew a thing or two about human nature.’
`You're full of unexpectedness, Rowley. I would never have thought you read anything but the sporting news.’
`I don't keep all my goods in the shop window,' he grinned.
`I don't think you'd find it so boring to be married to me as you might suppose.’
She was glad to find a flippant remark.
`How on earth could I ever hope to keep you even moderately faithful?’
`Well, that would be up to you. They say a woman ought to have an occupation, and that would be a very suitable one for you in Kenya' She looked at him for a moment reflectively.
`Why should you bother to marry me, Rowley? If you love me as much as you say I don't mind coming for a trip with you. We can take the car and go for a tour in Provence.’
`That's a suggestion, of course. But it's a damned rotten one.
'There doesn't seem much object in exchanging a good friend for an indifferent husband.
`That's a nice thing for a respectable woman to say.’
`I'm not so respectable as all that. Don't you think it s rather late for me to put on frills?’
`No. I don't. And if you start getting an inferiority complex I shall give you such a hiding as you won't forget for a month. It's marriage lines for me, my dear, or nothing. I want you for keeps.’
`But I don't love you, Rowley.’
`I told you the other night, you will if you give yourself half a chance.’
She looked at him for some time, doubtfully, and then suddenly the gleam of a shy but faintly teasing smile stole into her lovely eyes.
`I wonder if you're right,' she murmured. The other night, in the car, when those drunken people passed us and you held me in your arms, though I was scared to death, I don't mind admitting that while your lips were pressed to mine the sensation wasn't - entirely unpleasant.’
He gave a great throaty chuckle. He jumped up and dragged her to her feet and flung his arms round her. He kissed her on the mouth.
`So now what?”
‘Well, if you insist on marrying me.... But it's an awful risk were taking.’
`Darling, that's what life's for - to take risks.’
END
W. Somerset Maugham, Up at the Villa
(Series: # )
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