Charles Snow - George Passant

‘Need I answer that?’

As Jack asked the question, several people noticed the distress and anger in his face, but they nearly all thought it was simulated. The general view was that he had chosen his moment to ‘act the gentleman’; curiously enough, some felt it the most unprepossessing thing he had done that morning.

‘I don’t think you need,’ said the judge.

Jack’s reputation with women was well known in the town, and it was expected that Porson would make a good deal of it. To everyone’s surprise, Porson let him go without another question.

Olive entered the box: Getliffe kept to the same lines as with Jack. All through she was abrupt and matter-of-fact; she made one reply, however, which Porson later taxed her with at length. It happened while Getliffe was rattling through his questions over the agency.

‘You had considered buying other businesses?’

‘Several.’

‘Why didn’t you go further with them?’

‘We wanted a run for our money.’

‘But you became satisfied that this one was sound?’

‘It was a long way the best we had heard of.’

‘Can you tell me how you worked out the possibilities?’

‘On the result of Mr Passant’s talk with Mr Martineau.’

‘You didn’t actually see Mr Martineau yourself, I suppose?’

‘I didn’t want to know any more about it.’

Very quickly, Getliffe asked: ‘You mean, of course, that you were completely satisfied by the accounts Mr Passant brought? Obviously they convinced all three of you?’

‘Of course. There seemed no need to ask any further.’

Many people doubted whether there had been a moment of tension at all. But when Porson cross-examined her, he began on it at once.

‘I want to go back to one of your answers. Why did you say that “I didn’t want to know any more about it”?’

‘I explained — because I was perfectly well satisfied as it was.’

‘Do you think that’s a really satisfactory explanation of your answer?’

‘It is the only one.’

‘It isn’t, you know. You can think of something very different. Just listen to what you said again: “I didn’t want to know any more about it.” Doesn’t that suggest another phrase to you?’

‘Nothing at all.’

‘Doesn’t it suggest — “I didn’t want to know too much about it”?’

‘I should have said that if I meant it.’

‘I suggest you meant exactly that, though — before you had your second thoughts?’

‘I meant the opposite. I knew enough already.’

Porson kept her an inordinately long time. His questions had become more slowly and truculently delivered since Martineau’s evidence, his manner more domineering. It was his way of responding to the crisis of the case, of showing how much he needed to win it: but that would have been hard to guess.

He left no time to begin George’s examination before lunch. Irritating the judge, he involved Olive’s relations with Jack into his questions over the farm. He brought in a suggestion, so over-elaborate that it was commonly misunderstood, about her raising money in secret, without Jack’s knowledge; Porson’s insinuation being that she was trying to win Jack back from other women, and using her money as the bait.

But, though he had confused everyone by his legal argument and annoyed the judge, Porson had not entirely wasted his time. Olive was often admired at first sight, but seldom liked: and it had been so in court. Porson had been able to whip up this animosity.

As we went out for lunch, the crowd was full of murmurs about her evidence. Rachel met me, her face full of pity. She said several times — ‘If only she’d thrown herself on their mercy.’ Her pride had made many people glad to hear Porson’s attack. And the impassiveness with which she had received the questions about ‘running after a man who didn’t want her’ had added to their resentment.

Olive and Jack walked slowly together into lunch; they were not speaking when they arrived. George stared at her.

‘What did you think of that?’

‘Not much. They’re waiting for you now.’

We tried to keep up a conversation, but no one made the effort for long. About us all, there hung the minute restlessness of extreme fatigue. Before the meal was finished Jack pushed his chair back.

‘I want some air before this afternoon. I’m going for a walk,’ he said to Olive. She replied: ‘It’ll be better if I stay here.’

Without smiling, they looked at each other. Their faces were harassed and grave, but full of intimacy.

‘You’d better stay too,’ Jack said to George. ‘You’ll want to get ready.’ George inclined his head, and Jack asked me to go with him into the street.

We found people already on the pavements, waiting for the afternoon’s sitting to begin. Jack walked past them, his head back. He was wearing neither overcoat nor hat, and many of them recognised him.

‘We gave them something to listen to,’ he said.

‘You did pretty well.’

‘You would expect me to, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, I should.’

‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘when I was in the box and saw them looking at me — I felt they were envying me, just like these people who’re staring now?’

Even then, he was drawing some enjoyment from the eyes of the crowd. But a little later he said: ‘There isn’t so much to envy, is there? I still don’t know why I have never pulled things off. I ought to have done. A good many others would have done in my place. I might have done, of course I might—’ He began speaking very fast, as though he were puzzled and astonished.

‘Lewis, if I’d been the man everyone thinks, this would never have happened. Do you realise that? I know that I’ve done things most men wouldn’t, clearly I have. But I could have saved myself the trouble if I had lived on Olive from the start. She would have kept me if I’d let her. The man Porson struck something there. But I just couldn’t. Why, Lewis, a man like you would have found it infinitely easier to let her than I did!’

‘Yes, I should have taken her help,’ I said.

‘I couldn’t,’ said Jack. ‘I suppose I was too proud. Have you ever known me to be too proud in any other conceivable circumstances before? It’s incredible: but I couldn’t take the help she wanted to give.’

Jack was reflecting. I recalled how Olive knew that he was struggling against being dependent on her — when we were afraid that he might run. We turned back towards the steps. He again felt curious eyes watching him, and casually smoothed back his hair.

‘They think I’m a man who lives on women,’ he said. ‘It’s true that I haven’t lost by their company, in my time. The curious thing is — the one occasion when I ought to have let a woman help me, I couldn’t manage it.

‘I’m not the man they think,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve always envied people who’ve got the power of going straight ahead. I don’t think there’s much chance I shall learn it now.’

WHEN George walked from the dock to the witness box, the court was full. There were acquaintances whom he had made at the School and through Eden’s firm; as well as close friends, there were several present whom he had quarrelled with and denounced. Canon Martineau, who had not attended to hear his brother, was in court this afternoon, by the Principal’s side; Beddow and Miss Geary were also there, of that committee which George once attacked. Roy’s father was the only one of the five who had not come to watch. Roy himself stood at the back of the court, making a policeman fetch chairs for Mr and Mrs Passant. Daphne and Rachel stood near to Roy. Eden sat in the place he had occupied throughout the trial. And there were others who had come under George’s influence — many of them not ready to believe what they heard against him.