Some Do Not … - Ford Madox Ford (non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

you dare to say my bank.⁠ ⁠…” He stopped, drew his hand down his face and said: “But yet⁠ ⁠… you’re a sensible, sound man.⁠ ⁠… I’ve heard things against you. But I don’t believe them.⁠ ⁠… Your father always spoke very highly of you.⁠ ⁠… I remember he said if you wanted money you could always draw on him through us for three or four hundred.⁠ ⁠… That’s what makes it so incomprehensible.⁠ ⁠… It’s⁠ ⁠… it’s⁠ ⁠…” His agitation grew on him. “It seems to strike at the very heart.⁠ ⁠…”

Tietjens said:

“Look here, Port Scatho.⁠ ⁠… I’ve always had a respect for you. Settle it how you like. Fix the mess up for both our sakes with any formula that’s not humiliating for your bank. I’ve already resigned from the club.⁠ ⁠…”

Sylvia said: “Oh, no, Christopher⁠ ⁠… not from the club!”

Port Scatho started back from beside the table.

“But if you’re in the right!” he said. “You couldn’t⁠ ⁠… Not resign from the club.⁠ ⁠… I’m on the committee⁠ ⁠… I’ll explain to them, in the fullest, in the most generous⁠ ⁠…”

“You couldn’t explain,” Tietjens said. “You can’t get ahead of rumour.⁠ ⁠… It’s half over London at this moment. You know what the toothless old fellows of your committee are.⁠ ⁠… Anderson! Ffolliott⁠ ⁠… And my brother’s friend, Ruggles.⁠ ⁠…”

Port Scatho said:

“Your brother’s friend Ruggles.⁠ ⁠… But look here.⁠ ⁠… He’s something about the Court, isn’t he? But look here.⁠ ⁠…” His mind stopped. He said: “People shouldn’t overdraw.⁠ ⁠… But if your father said you could draw on him I’m really much concerned.⁠ ⁠… You’re a first-rate fellow.⁠ ⁠… I can tell that from your passbook alone.⁠ ⁠… Nothing but cheques drawn to first-class tradesmen for reasonable amounts. The sort of passbook I liked to see when I was a junior clerk in the bank.⁠ ⁠…” At that early reminiscence feelings of pathos overcame him and his mind once more stopped.

Sylvia came back into the room; they had not perceived her going. She in turn held in her hand a letter.

Tietjens said:

“Look here, Port Scatho, don’t get into this state. Give me your word to do what you can when you’ve assured yourself the facts are as I say. I wouldn’t bother you at all, it’s not my line, except for Mrs. Tietjens. A man alone can live that sort of thing down, or die. But there’s no reason why Mrs. Tietjens should live, tied to a bad hat, while he’s living it down or dying.”

“But that’s not right,” Port Scatho said, “it’s not the right way to look at it. You can’t pocket⁠ ⁠… I’m simply bewildered.⁠ ⁠…”

“You’ve no right to be bewildered,” Sylvia said. “You’re worrying your mind for expedients to save the reputation of your bank. We know your bank is more to you than a baby. You should look after it better, then.”

Port Scatho, who had already fallen two paces away from the table, now fell two paces back, almost on top of it. Sylvia’s nostrils were dilated.

She said:

“Tietjens shall not resign from your beastly club. He shall not! Your committee will request him formally to withdraw his resignation. You understand? He will withdraw it. Then he will resign for good. He is too good to mix with people like you.⁠ ⁠…” She paused, her chest working fast. “Do you understand what you’ve got to do?” she asked.

An appalling shadow of a thought went through Tietjens’ mind: he would not let it come into words.

“I don’t know⁠ ⁠…” the banker said. “I don’t know that I can get the committee⁠ ⁠…”

“You’ve got to,” Sylvia answered. “I’ll tell you why⁠ ⁠… Christopher was never overdrawn. Last Thursday I instructed your people to pay a thousand pounds to my husband’s account. I repeated the instruction by letter and I kept a copy of the letter witnessed by my confidential maid. I also registered the letter and have the receipt for it.⁠ ⁠… You can see them.”

Port Scatho mumbled from over the letter:

“It’s to Brownlie⁠ ⁠… Yes, a receipt for a letter to Brownlie⁠ ⁠…” She examined the little green slip on both sides. He said: “Last Thursday.⁠ ⁠… Today’s Monday.⁠ ⁠… An instruction to sell North-Western stock to the amount of one thousand pounds and place to the account of⁠ ⁠… Then⁠ ⁠…”

Sylvia said:

“That’ll do.⁠ ⁠… You can’t angle for time any more.⁠ ⁠… Your nephew has been in an affair of this sort before.⁠ ⁠… I’ll tell you. Last Thursday at lunch your nephew told me that Christopher’s brother’s solicitors had withdrawn all the permissions for overdrafts on the books of the Groby estate. There were several to members of the family. Your nephew said that he intended to catch Christopher on the hop⁠—that’s his own expression⁠—and dishonour the next cheque of his that came in. He said he had been waiting for the chance ever since the war and the brother’s withdrawal had given it him. I begged him not to⁠ ⁠…”

“But, good God,” the banker said, “this is unheard of⁠ ⁠…”

“It isn’t,” Sylvia said. “Christopher has had five snotty, little, miserable subalterns to defend at court-martials for exactly similar cases. One was an exact reproduction of this.⁠ ⁠…”

“But, good God,” the banker exclaimed again, “men giving their lives for their country.⁠ ⁠… Do you mean to say Brownlie did this out of revenge for Tietjens’ defending at court-martials.⁠ ⁠… And then⁠ ⁠… your thousand pounds is not shown in your husband’s passbook.⁠ ⁠…”

“Of course it’s not,” Sylvia said. “It has never been paid in. On Friday I had a formal letter from your people pointing out that North-Westerns were likely to rise and asking me to reconsider my position. The same day I sent an express telling them explicitly to do as I said.⁠ ⁠… Ever since then your nephew has been on the phone begging me not to save my husband. He was there, just now, when I went out of the room. He was also beseeching me to fly with him.”

Tietjens said:

“Isn’t that enough, Sylvia? It’s rather torturing.”

“Let them be tortured,” Sylvia said. “But it appears to be enough.”

Port Scatho had covered his face with both his pink hands. He had exclaimed:

“Oh, my God! Brownlie again.⁠ ⁠…”

Tietjens’ brother Mark was in the room. He was smaller, browner and harder than Tietjens and his blue eyes protruded