England -- Fiction; Patent medicines -- Marketing -- Fiction; Pharmaceutical industry -- Fiction; Satire; Science fiction
Now I think over that talk in the light of all that has happened since,
I can imagine how she came to me full of a human appeal I was too
foolish to let her make. I don’t know. I confess I have never
completely understood Beatrice. I confess I am still perplexed at many
things she said and did. That afternoon, anyhow, I was impossible. I
posed and scolded. I was—I said it—for “taking the Universe by the
throat!”
“If it was only that,” she said, but though I heard, I did not heed
her.
At last she gave way to me and talked no more. Instead she looked at
me—as a thing beyond her controlling, but none the less
interesting—much as she had looked at me from behind the skirts of Lady
Drew in the Warren when we were children together.
Once even I thought she smiled faintly.
“What are the difficulties” I cried, “there’s no difficulty I will not
overcome for you! Do your people think I’m no equal for you? Who says
it? My dear, tell me to win a title! I’ll do it in five years!...
“Here am I just grown a man at the sight of you. I have wanted
something to fight for. Let me fight for you!...
“I’m rich without intending it. Let me mean it, give me an honourable
excuse for it, and I’ll put all this rotten old Warren of England at
your feet!”
I said such things as that. I write them down here in all their
resounding base pride. I said these empty and foolish things, and they
are part of me. Why should I still cling to pride and be ashamed? I
shouted her down.
I passed from such megalomania to petty accusations.
“You think Carnaby is a better man than I?” I said.
“No!” she cried, stung to speech. “No!”
“You think we’re unsubstantial. You’ve listened to all these rumours
Boom has started because we talked of a newspaper of our own. When you
are with me you know I’m a man; when you get away from me you think I’m
a cheat and a cad.... There’s not a word of truth in the things they
say about us. I’ve been slack. I’ve left things. But we have only to
exert ourselves. You do not know how wide and far we have spread our
nets. Even now we have a coup—an expedition—in hand. It will put us on
a footing.”...
Her eyes asked mutely and asked in vain that I would cease to boast of
the very qualities she admired in me.
In the night I could not sleep for thinking of that talk and the vulgar
things I had said in it. I could not understand the drift my mind had
taken. I was acutely disgusted. And my unwonted doubts about myself
spread from a merely personal discontent to our financial position. It
was all very well to talk as I had done of wealth and power and
peerages, but what did I know nowadays of my uncle’s position? Suppose
in the midst of such boasting and confidence there came some turn I did
not suspect, some rottenness he had concealed from me? I resolved I had
been playing with aeronautics long enough; that next morning I would go
to him and have things clear between us.
I caught an early train and went up to the Hardingham.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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