William Maugham - Theatre

Julia gave her a reflective look.

‘I take my husband’s advice more often than he takes mine,’ she smiled.

When they left the dressing-room so that Avice Crichton might change for the third act, Julia caught the questioning glance she gave Tom as she said good-bye to him. Julia was conscious, though she saw no movement, that he slightly shook his head. Her sensibility at that moment was extraordinarily acute and she translated the mute dialogue into words.

‘Coming to supper afterwards?’

‘No, damn it, I can’t, I’ve got to see her home.’

Julia listened to the third act grimly. That was in order since the play was serious. When it was over and a pale shattered author had made a halting speech, Tom asked her where she would like to go for supper.

‘Let’s go home and talk,’ she said. ‘If you’re hungry I’m sure we can find you something to eat in the kitchen.’

‘D’you mean to Stanhope Place?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right.’

She felt his relief that she did not want to go back to the flat. He was silent in the car and she knew that it irked him to have to come back with her. She guessed that someone was giving a supper party to which Avice Crichton was going and he wanted to be there. The house was dark and empty when they reached it. The servants were in bed. Julia suggested that they should go down to the basement and forage.

‘I don’t want anything to eat unless you do,’ he said. ‘I’ll just have a whisky and soda and go to bed. I’ve got a very heavy day tomorrow at the office.’

‘All right. Bring it up to the drawing-room. I’ll go and turn on the lights.’

When he came up she was doing her face in front of a mirror and she continued till he had poured out the whisky and sat down. Then she turned round. He looked very young, and incredibly charming, in his beautiful clothes, sitting there in the big armchair, and all the bitterness she had felt that evening, all the devouring jealousy of the last few days, were dissipated on a sudden by the intensity of her passion. She sat down on the arm of his chair and caressingly passed her hand over his hair. He drew back with an angry gesture.

‘Don’t do that,’ he said. ‘I do hate having my hair mussed about.’

It was like a knife in her heart. He had never spoken to her in that tone before. But she laughed lightly and getting up took the whisky he had poured out for her and sat down in a chair opposite him. The movement he had made, the words he had spoken, were instinctive and he was a trifle abashed. He avoided her glance and his face once more bore a sulky look. The moment was decisive. For a while they were silent. Julia’s heart beat painfully, but at last she forced herself to speak.

‘Tell me,’ she said, smiling, ‘have you been to bed with Avice Crichton?’

‘Of course not,’ he cried.

‘Why not? She’s pretty.’

‘She’s not that sort of girl. I respect her.’

Julia let none of her feelings appear on her face. Her manner was wonderfully casual; she might have been talking of the fall of empires or the death of kings.

‘D’you know what I should have said? I should have said you were madly in love with her.’ He still avoided her eyes. ‘Are you engaged to her by any chance?’

‘No.’

He looked at her now, but the eyes that met Julia’s were hostile.

‘Have you asked her to marry you?’

‘How could I? A damned rotter like me.’

He spoke so passionately that Julia was astonished.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Oh what’s the good of beating about the bush? How could I ask a decent girl to marry me? I’m nothing but a kept boy and, God knows, you have good reason to know it.’

‘Don’t be so silly. What a fuss to make over a few little presents I’ve given you.’

‘I oughtn’t to have taken them. I knew all the time it was wrong. It all came so gradually that I didn’t realize what was happening till I was in it up to my neck. I couldn’t afford to lead the life you made me lead; I was absolutely up against it. I had to take money from you.’

‘Why not? After all, I’m a very rich woman.’

‘Damn your money.’

He was holding a glass in his hands and yielding to a sudden impulse, he flung it into the fireplace. It shattered.

‘You needn’t break up the happy home,’ said Julia ironically.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.’ He sank back into his chair and turned his head away. ‘I’m so ashamed of myself. It’s not very nice to have lost one’s self-respect.’

Julia hesitated. She did not quite know what to say.

‘It seemed only natural to help you when you were in a hole. It was a pleasure to me.’

‘I know, you were wonderfully tactful about it. You almost persuaded me that I was doing you a service when you paid my debts. You made it easy for me to behave like a cad.’

‘I’m sorry you should feel like that about it.’

She spoke rather tartly. She was beginning to feel a trifle irritated.

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You wanted me and you bought me. If I was such a skunk as to let myself be bought that was no business of yours.’

‘How long have you been feeling like this?’

‘From the beginning.’

‘That isn’t true.’

She knew that what had awakened his conscience was the love that had seized him for a girl who he believed was pure. The poor fool! Didn’t he know that Avice Crichton would go to bed with an assistant stage manager if she thought it would get her a part?

‘If you’re in love with Avice Crichton why don’t you tell me so?’ He looked at her miserably, but did not answer. ‘Are you afraid it’ll crab her chances of getting a part in the new play? You ought to know me well enough by now to know that I would never let sentiment interfere with business.’

He could hardly believe his ears.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I think she’s rather a find. I’m going to tell Michael that I think she’ll do very well.’

‘Oh, Julia, you are a brick. I never knew what a wonderful woman you were.’

‘You should have asked me and I’d have told you.’

He gave a sigh of relief.

‘My dear, I’m so terribly fond of you.’

‘I know, and I’m terribly fond of you. You’re great fun to go about with and you’re always so well turned out, you’re a credit to any woman. I’ve liked going to bed with you and I’ve a sort of notion you’ve liked going to bed with me. But let’s face it, I’ve never been in love with you any more than you’ve been in love with me. I knew it couldn’t last. Sooner or later you were bound to fall in love and that would end it. And you have fallen in love, haven’t you?’

‘Yes.’

She was determined to make him say it, but when he did the pang it gave her was dreadful. Notwithstanding, she smiled good-humouredly.

‘We’ve had some very jolly times together, but don’t you think the moment has come to call it a day?’

She spoke so naturally, almost jestingly, that no one could have guessed that the pain at her heart seemed past bearing. She waited for his answer with sickening dread.

‘I’m awfully sorry, Julia; I must regain my self-respect.’ He looked at her with troubled eyes. ‘You aren’t angry with me?’

‘Because you’ve transferred your volatile affections from me to Avice Crichton?’ Her eyes danced with mischievous laughter. ‘My dear, of course not. After all they stay in the profession.’

‘I’m very grateful to you for all you’ve done for me. I don’t want you to think I’m not.’

‘Oh, my pet, don’t talk such nonsense. I’ve done nothing for you.’ She got up. ‘Now you really must go. You’ve got a heavy day at the office tomorrow and I’m dog-tired.’