Of Human Bondage - W. Somerset Maugham (best novels to read txt) 📗

hot with shame. He could see how happy they were without him. His instinct was to leave them to themselves and go home, but he had not his hat and coat, and it would necessitate endless explanations. He went back. He felt a shadow of annoyance in Mildred’s eyes when she saw him, and his heart sank.

“You’ve been a devil of a time,” said Griffiths, with a smile of welcome.

“I met some men I knew. I’ve been talking to them, and I couldn’t get away. I thought you’d be all right together.”

“I’ve been enjoying myself thoroughly,” said Griffiths. “I don’t know about Mildred.”

She gave a little laugh of happy complacency. There was a vulgar sound in the ring of it that horrified Philip. He suggested that they should go.

“Come on,” said Griffiths, “we’ll both drive you home.”

Philip suspected that she had suggested that arrangement so that she might not be left alone with him. In the cab he did not take her hand nor did she offer it, and he knew all the time that she was holding Griffiths’. His chief thought was that it was all so horribly vulgar. As they drove along he asked himself what plans they had made to meet without his knowledge, he cursed himself for having left them alone, he had actually gone out of his way to enable them to arrange things.

“Let’s keep the cab,” said Philip, when they reached the house in which Mildred was lodging. “I’m too tired to walk home.”

On the way back Griffiths talked gaily and seemed indifferent to the fact that Philip answered in monosyllables. Philip felt he must notice that something was the matter. Philip’s silence at last grew too significant to struggle against, and Griffiths, suddenly nervous, ceased talking. Philip wanted to say something, but he was so shy he could hardly bring himself to, and yet the time was passing and the opportunity would be lost. It was best to get at the truth at once. He forced himself to speak.

“Are you in love with Mildred?” he asked suddenly.

“I?” Griffiths laughed. “Is that what you’ve been so funny about this evening? Of course not, my dear old man.”

He tried to slip his hand through Philip’s arm, but Philip drew himself away. He knew Griffiths was lying. He could not bring himself to force Griffiths to tell him that he had not been holding the girl’s hand. He suddenly felt very weak and broken.

“It doesn’t matter to you, Harry,” he said. “You’ve got so many women—don’t take her away from me. It means my whole life. I’ve been so awfully wretched.”

His voice broke, and he could not prevent the sob that was torn from him. He was horribly ashamed of himself.

“My dear old boy, you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’m far too fond of you for that. I was only playing the fool. If I’d known you were going to take it like that I’d have been more careful.”

“Is that true?” asked Philip.

“I don’t care a twopenny damn for her. I give you my word of honour.”

Philip gave a sigh of relief. The cab stopped at their door.

LXXV

Next day Philip was in a good temper. He was very anxious not to bore Mildred with too much of his society, and so had arranged that he should not see her till dinner-time. She was ready when he fetched her, and he chaffed her for her unwonted punctuality. She was wearing a new dress he had given her. He remarked on its smartness.

“It’ll have to go back and be altered,” she said. “The skirt hangs all wrong.”

“You’ll have to make the dressmaker hurry up if you want to take it to Paris with you.”

“It’ll be ready in time for that.”

“Only three more whole days. We’ll go over by the eleven o’clock, shall we?”

“If you like.”

He would have her for nearly a month entirely to himself. His eyes rested on her with hungry adoration. He was able to laugh a little at his own passion.

“I wonder what it is I see in you,” he smiled.

“That’s a nice thing to say,” she answered.

Her body was so thin that one could almost see her skeleton. Her chest was as flat as a boy’s. Her mouth, with its narrow pale lips, was ugly, and her skin was faintly green.

“I shall give you Blaud’s Pills in quantities when we’re away,” said Philip, laughing. “I’m going to bring you back fat and rosy.”

“I don’t want to get fat,” she said.

She did not speak of Griffiths, and presently while they were dining Philip half in malice, for he felt sure of himself and his power over her, said:

“It seems to me you were having a great flirtation with Harry last night?”

“I told you I was in love with him,” she laughed.

“I’m glad to know that he’s not in love with you.”

“How d’you know?”

“I asked him.”

She hesitated a moment, looking at Philip, and a curious gleam came into her eyes.

“Would you like to read a letter I had from him this morning?”

She handed him an envelope and Philip recognised Griffiths’ bold, legible writing. There were eight pages. It was well written, frank and charming; it was the letter of a man who was used to making love to women. He told Mildred that he loved her passionately, he had fallen in love with her the first moment he saw her; he did not want to love her, for he knew how fond Philip was of her, but he could not help himself. Philip was such a dear, and he was very much ashamed of himself, but it was not his fault, he was just carried away. He paid her delightful compliments. Finally he thanked her for consenting to lunch with him next day and said he was dreadfully impatient to see her. Philip noticed that the letter was dated the night before; Griffiths must have written it after leaving Philip, and had taken the trouble to go out and post it when Philip thought he was in bed.

He read it with a sickening palpitation of his heart, but gave no outward sign of surprise. He handed it back to Mildred with a smile, calmly.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?”

“Rather,” she said emphatically.

He felt that his hands were trembling, so he put them under the table.

“You mustn’t take Griffiths too seriously. He’s just a butterfly, you know.”

She took the letter and looked at it again.

“I can’t help it either,” she said, in a voice which she tried to make nonchalant. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“It’s a little awkward for me, isn’t it?” said Philip.

She gave him a quick look.

“You’re taking it pretty calmly, I must say.”

“What do you expect me to do? Do you want me to tear out my hair in handfuls?”

“I knew you’d be angry with me.”

“The funny thing is, I’m not at all. I ought to have known this would happen. I was a fool to bring you together. I know perfectly well that he’s got every advantage over me; he’s much jollier, and he’s very handsome, he’s more amusing, he can talk to you about the things that interest you.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that. If I’m not clever I can’t help it, but I’m not the fool you think I am, not by a long way, I can tell you. You’re a bit too superior for me, my young friend.”

“D’you want to quarrel with me?” he asked mildly.

“No, but I don’t see why you should treat me as if I was I don’t know what.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just wanted to talk things over quietly. We don’t want to make a mess of them if we can help it. I saw you were attracted by him and it seemed to me very natural. The only thing that really hurts me is that he should have encouraged you. He knew how awfully keen I was on you. I think it’s rather shabby of him to have written that letter to you five minutes after he told me he didn’t care twopence about you.”

“If you think you’re going to make me like him any the less by saying nasty things about him, you’re mistaken.”

Philip was silent for a moment. He did not know what words he could use to make her see his point of view. He wanted to speak coolly and deliberately, but he was in such a turmoil of emotion that he could not clear his thoughts.

“It’s not worth while sacrificing everything for an infatuation that you know can’t last. After all, he doesn’t care for anyone more than ten days, and you’re rather cold; that sort of thing doesn’t mean very much to you.”

“That’s what you think.”

She made it more difficult for him by adopting a cantankerous tone.

“If you’re in love with him you can’t help it. I’ll just bear it as best I can. We get on very well together, you and I, and I’ve not behaved badly to you, have I? I’ve always known that you’re not in love with me, but you like me all right, and when we get over to Paris you’ll forget about Griffiths. If you make up your mind to put him out of your thoughts you won’t find it so hard as all that, and I’ve deserved that you should do something for me.”

She did not answer, and they went on eating their dinner. When the silence grew oppressive Philip began to talk of indifferent things. He pretended not to notice that Mildred was inattentive. Her answers were perfunctory, and she volunteered no remarks of her own. At last she interrupted abruptly what he was saying:

“Philip, I’m afraid I shan’t be able to go away on Saturday. The doctor says I oughtn’t to.”

He knew this was not true, but he answered:

“When will you be able to come away?”

She glanced at him, saw that his face was white and rigid, and looked nervously away. She was at that moment a little afraid of him.

“I may as well tell you and have done with it, I can’t come away with you at all.”

“I thought you were driving at that. It’s too late to change your mind now. I’ve got the tickets and everything.”

“You said you didn’t wish me to go unless I wanted it too, and I don’t.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to have any more tricks played with me. You must come.”

“I like you very much, Philip, as a friend. But I can’t bear to think of anything else. I don’t like you that way. I couldn’t, Philip.”

“You were quite willing to a week ago.”

“It was different then.”

“You hadn’t met Griffiths?”

“You said yourself I couldn’t help it if I’m in love with him.”

Her face was set into a sulky look, and she kept her eyes fixed on her plate. Philip was white with rage. He would have liked to hit her in the face with his clenched fist, and in fancy he saw how she would look with a black eye. There were two lads of eighteen dining at a table near them, and now and then they looked at Mildred; he wondered if they envied him dining with a pretty girl; perhaps they were wishing they stood in his shoes. It was Mildred who broke the silence.

“What’s the good of our going away together? I’d be thinking of him all the time. It wouldn’t be much fun for you.”

“That’s my business,” he answered.

She thought over all his reply