the moon and sixpence(月球和六便士)-第4节
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tear a brother…author to pieces the moment that his back was turned。 The
artist has this advantage over the rest of the world； that his friends offer
not only their appearance and their character to his satire； but also their
work。 I despaired of ever expressing myself with such aptness or with
such fluency。 In those days conversation was still cultivated as an art； a
neat repartee was more highly valued than the crackling of thorns under a
pot； and the epigram； not yet a mechanical appliance by which the dull
may achieve a semblance of wit； gave sprightliness to the small talk of the
urbane。 It is sad that I can remember nothing of all this scintillation。 But I
think the conversation never settled down so comfortably as when it
turned to the details of the trade which was the other side of the art we
practised。 When we had done discussing the merits of the latest book； it
was natural to wonder how many copies had been sold； what advance the
author had received； and how much he was likely to make out of it。 Then
we would speak of this publisher and of that； comparing the generosity of
one with the meanness of another； we would argue whether it was better to
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go to one who gave handsome royalties or to another who 〃pushed〃 a
book for all it was worth。 Some advertised badly and some well。 Some
were modern and some were old…fashioned。 Then we would talk of
agents and the offers they had obtained for us； of editors and the sort of
contributions they welcomed； how much they paid a thousand； and
whether they paid promptly or otherwise。 To me it was all very romantic。
It gave me an intimate sense of being a member of some mystic
brotherhood。
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Chapter IV
No one was kinder to me at that time than Rose Waterford。 She
combined a masculine intelligence with a feminine perversity； and the
novels she wrote were original and disconcerting。 It was at her house one
day that I met Charles Strickland's wife。 Miss Waterford was giving a tea…
party； and her small room was more than usually full。 Everyone seemed
to be talking； and I； sitting in silence； felt awkward； but I was too shy to
break into any of the groups that seemed absorbed in their own affairs。
Miss Waterford was a good hostess； and seeing my embarrassment came
up to me。
〃I want you to talk to Mrs。 Strickland；〃 she said。 〃She's raving about
your book。〃
〃What does she do？〃 I asked。
I was conscious of my ignorance； and if Mrs。 Strickland was a well…
known writer I thought it as well to ascertain the fact before I spoke to her。
Rose Waterford cast down her eyes demurely to give greater effect to
her reply。
〃She gives luncheon…parties。 You've only got to roar a little； and
she'll ask you。〃
Rose Waterford was a cynic。 She looked upon life as an opportunity
for writing novels and the public as her raw material。 Now and then she
invited members of it to her house if they showed an appreciation of her
talent and entertained with proper lavishness。 She held their weakness
for lions in good…humoured contempt； but played to them her part of the
distinguished woman of letters with decorum。
I was led up to Mrs。 Strickland； and for ten minutes we talked together。
I noticed nothing about her except that she had a pleasant voice。 She had
a flat in Westminster； overlooking the unfinished cathedral； and because
we lived in the same neighbourhood we felt friendly disposed to one
another。 The Army and Navy Stores are a bond of union between all who
dwell between the river and St。 James's Park。 Mrs。 Strickland asked me
for my address； and a few days later I received an invitation to luncheon。
My engagements were few； and I was glad to accept。 When I arrived；
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a little late； because in my fear of being too early I had walked three times
round the cathedral； I found the party already complete。 Miss Waterford
was there and Mrs。 Jay； Richard Twining and George Road。 We were all
writers。 It was a fine day； early in spring； and we were in a good humour。
We talked about a hundred things。 Miss Waterford； torn between the
aestheticism of her early youth； when she used to go to parties in sage
green； holding a daffodil； and the flippancy of her maturer years； which
tended to high heels and Paris frocks； wore a new hat。 It put her in high
spirits。 I had never heard her more malicious about our common friends。
Mrs。 Jay； aware that impropriety is the soul of wit； made observations in
tones hardly above a whisper that might well have tinged the snowy
tablecloth with a rosy hue。 Richard Twining bubbled over with quaint
absurdities； and George Road； conscious that he need not exhibit a
brilliancy which was almost a by…word； opened his mouth only to put food
into it。 Mrs。 Strickland did not talk much； but she had a pleasant gift for
keeping the conversation general； and when there was a pause she threw in
just the right remark to set it going once more。 She was a woman of thirty…
seven； rather tall and plump； without being fat； she was not pretty； but her
face was pleasing； chiefly； perhaps； on account of her kind brown eyes。
Her skin was rather sallow。 Her dark hair was elaborately dressed。 She
was the only woman of the three whose face was free of make…up； and by
contrast with the others she seemed simple and unaffected。
The dining…room was in the good taste of the period。 It was very
severe。 There was a high dado of white wood and a green paper on
which were etchings by Whistler in neat black frames。 The green curtains
with their peacock design； hung in straight lines； and the green carpet； in
the pattern of which pale rabbits frolicked among leafy trees； suggested
the influence of William Morris。 There was blue delft on the
chimneypiece。 At that time there must have been five hundred dining…
rooms in London decorated in exactly the same manner。 It was chaste；
artistic； and dull。
When we left I walked away with Miss Waterford； and the fine day
and her new hat persuaded us to saunter through the Park。
〃That was a very nice party；〃 I said。
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〃Did you think the food was good？ I told her that if she wanted
writers she must feed them well。〃
〃Admirable advice；〃 I answered。 〃But why does she want them？〃
Miss Waterford shrugged her shoulders。
〃She finds them amusing。 She wants to be in the movement。 I fancy
she's rather simple； poor dear； and she thinks we're all wonderful。 After
all； it pleases her to ask us to luncheon； and it doesn't hurt us。 I like her
for it。〃
Looking back； I think that Mrs。 Strickland was the most harmless of all
the lion…hunters that pursue their quarry from the rarefied heights of
Hampstead to the nethermost studios of Cheyne Walk。 She had led a
very quiet youth in the country； and the books that came down from
Mudie's Library brought with them not only their own romance； but the
romance of London。 She had a real passion for reading （rare in her kind；
who for the most part are more interested in the author than in his book； in
the painter than in his pictures）； and she invented a world of the
imagination in which she lived with a freedom she never acquired in the
world of every day。 When she
