pgw.piccadillyjim-第2节

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g　cheerfully　at　whoever　entered。　The　walls　were　hung　with　prints；　judiciously　chosen　and　arranged。　Through　a　window　to　the　left；　healthfully　open　at　the　bottom；　the　sun　streamed　in；　bringing　with　it　the　pleasantly　subdued　whirring　of　automobiles　out　on　the　Drive。　At　a　desk　at　right　angles　to　this　window；　her　vivid　red…gold　hair　rippling　in　the　breeze　from　the　river；　sat　the　girl　who　had　been　working　at　the　typewriter。　She　turned　as　Mr。　Pett　entered；　and　smiled　over　her　shoulder。
　Ann　Chester；　Mr。　Pett's　niece；　looked　her　best　when　she　smiled。　Although　her　hair　was　the　most　obviously　striking　feature　of　her　appearance；　her　mouth　was　really　the　most　individual　thing　about　her。　It　was　a　mouth　that　suggested　adventurous　possibilities。　In　repose；　it　had　a　look　of　having　just　finished　saying　something　humorous；　a　kind　of　demure　appreciation　of　itself。　When　it　smiled；　a　row　of　white　teeth　flashed　out：　or；　if　the　lips　did　not　part；　a　dimple　appeared　on　the　right　cheek；　giving　the　whole　face　an　air　of　mischievous　geniality。　It　was　an　enterprising；　swashbuckling　sort　of　mouth；　the　mouth　of　one　who　would　lead　forlorn　hopes　with　a　jest　or　plot　whimsically　lawless　conspiracies　against　convention。　In　its　corners　and　in　the　firm　line　of　the　chin　beneath　it　there　lurked；　too；　more　than　a　hint　of　imperiousness。　A　physiognomist　would　have　gathered；　correctly；　that　Ann　Chester　liked　having　her　own　way　and　was　accustomed　to　get　it。
　〃Hello；　uncle　Peter；〃　she　said。　〃What's　the　trouble？〃
　〃Am　I　interrupting　you；　Ann？〃
　〃Not　a　bit。　I'm　only　copying　out　a　story　for　aunt　Nesta。　I　promised　her　I　would。　Would　you　like　to　hear　some　of　it？〃
　Mr。　Pett　said　he　would　not。
　〃You're　missing　a　good　thing；〃　said　Ann；　turning　the　pages。　〃I'm　all　worked　up　over　it。　It's　called　'At　Dead　of　Night；'　and　it's　full　of　crime　and　everything。　You　would　never　think　aunt　Nesta　had　such　a　feverish　imagination。　There　are　detectives　and　kidnappers　in　it　and　all　sorts　of　luxuries。　I　suppose　it's　the　effect　of　reading　it；　but　you　look　to　me　as　if　you　were　trailing　something。　You've　got　a　sort　of　purposeful　air。〃
　Mr。　Pett's　amiable　face　writhed　into　what　was　intended　to　be　a　bitter　smile。
　〃I'm　only　trailing　a　quiet　place　to　read　in。　I　never　saw　such　a　place　as　this　house。　It　looks　big　enough　outside　for　a　regiment。　Yet；　when　you're　inside；　there's　a　poet　or　something　in　every　room。〃
　〃What　about　the　library？　Isn't　that　sacred　to　you？〃
　〃The　boy　Ogden's　there。〃
　〃What　a　shame！〃
　〃Wallowing　in　my　best　chair；〃　said　Mr。　Pett　morosely。　〃Smoking　cigarettes。〃
　〃Smoking？　I　thought　he　had　promised　aunt　Nesta　he　wouldn't　smoke。〃
　〃Well；　he　said　he　wasn't；　of　course；　but　I　know　he　had　been。　I　don't　know　what　to　do　with　that　boy。　It's　no　good　my　talking　to　him。　Hehe　patronises　me！〃　concluded　Mr。　Pett　indignantly。　〃Sits　there　on　his　shoulder　blades　with　his　feet　on　the　table　and　talks　to　me　with　his　mouth　full　of　candy　as　if　I　were　his　grandson。〃
　〃Little　brute。〃
　Ann　was　sorry　for　Mr。　Pett。　For　many　years　now；　ever　since　the　death　of　her　mother；　they　had　been　inseparable。　Her　father；　who　was　a　traveller；　explorer；　big…game　hunter；　and　general　sojourner　in　the　lonelier　and　wilder　spots　of　the　world　and　paid　only　infrequent　visits　to　New　York；　had　left　her　almost　entirely　in　Mr。　Pett's　care；　and　all　her　pleasantest　memories　were　associated　with　him。　Mr。　Chester's　was　in　many　ways　an　admirable　character；　but　not　a　domestic　one；　and　his　relations　with　his　daughter　were　confined　for　the　most　part　to　letters　and　presents。　In　the　past　few　years　she　had　e　almost　to　regard　Mr。　Pett　in　the　light　of　a　father。　Hers　was　a　nature　swiftly　responsive　to　kindness；　and　because　Mr。　Pett　besides　being　kind　was　also　pathetic　she　pitied　as　well　as　loved　him。　There　was　a　lingering　boyishness　in　the　financier；　the　boyishness　of　the　boy　who　muddles　along　in　an　unsympathetic　world　and　can　never　do　anything　right：　and　this　quality　called　aloud　to　the　youth　in　her。　She　was　at　the　valiant　age　when　we　burn　to　right　wrongs　and　succour　the　oppressed；　and　wild　rebel　schemes　for　the　reformation　of　her　small　world　came　readily　to　her。　From　the　first　she　had　been　a　smouldering　spectator　of　the　trials　of　her　uncle's　married　life；　and　if　Mr。　Pett　had　ever　asked　her　advice　and　bound　himself　to　act　on　it　he　would　have　solved　his　domestic　troubles　in　explosive　fashion。　For　Ann　in　her　moments　of　maiden　meditation　had　frequently　devised　schemes　to　that　end　which　would　have　made　his　grey　hair　stand　erect　with　horror。
　〃I've　seen　a　good　many　boys；〃　she　said；　〃but　Ogden　is　in　a　class　by　himself。　He　ought　to　be　sent　to　a　strict　boarding…school；　of　course。〃
　〃He　ought　to　be　sent　to　Sing…Sing；〃　amended　Mr。　Pett。
　〃Why　don't　you　send　him　to　school？〃
　〃Your　aunt　wouldn't　hear　of　it。　She's　afraid　of　his　being　kidnapped。　It　happened　last　time　he　went　to　school。　You　can't　blame　her　for　wanting　to　keep　her　eye　on　him　after　that。〃
　Ann　ran　her　fingers　meditatively　over　the　keys。
　〃I've　sometimes　thought　。　。　。〃
　〃Yes？〃
　〃Oh；　nothing。　I　must　get　on　with　this　thing　for　aunt　Nesta。〃
　Mr。　Pett　placed　the　bulk　of　the　Sunday　paper　on　the　floor　beside　him；　and　began　to　run　an　appreciative　eye　over　the　ic　supplement。　That　lingering　boyishness　in　him　which　endeared　him　to　Ann　always　led　him　to　open　his　Sabbath　reading　in　this　fashion。　Grey…headed　though　he　was；　he　still　retained　both　in　art　and　in　real　life　a　taste　for　the　slapstick。　No　one　had　ever　known　the　pure　pleasure　it　had　given　him　when　Raymond　Green；　his　wife's　novelist　protege；　had　tripped　over　a　loose　stair…rod　one　morning　and　fallen　an　entire　flight。
　From　some　point　farther　down　the　corridor　came　a　muffled　thudding。　Ann　stopped　her　work　to　listen。
　〃There's　Jerry　Mitchell　punching　the　bag。〃
　〃Eh？〃　said　Mr。　Pett。
　〃I　only　said　I　could　hear　Jerry　Mitchell　in　the　gymnasium。〃
　〃Yes；　he's　there。〃
　Ann　looked　out　of　the　window　thoughtfully　for　a　moment。　Then　she　swung　round　in　her　swivel…chair。
　〃Uncle　Peter。〃
　Mr。　Pett　emerged　slowly　from　the　ic　supplement。
　〃Eh？〃
　〃Did　Jerry　Mitchell　ever　tell　you　about　that　friend　of　his　who　keeps　a　dogs'　hospital　down　on　Long　Island　somewhere？　I　forget　his　name。　Smithers　or　Smethurst　or　something。　Peopleold　ladies；　you　know；　and　peoplebring　him　their　dogs　to　be　cured　when　they　get　sick。　He　has　an　infallible　remedy；　Jerry　tells　me。　He　makes　a　lot　of　money　at　it。〃
　〃Money？〃　Pett；　the　student；　became　Pett；　the　financier；　at　the　magic　word。　〃There　might　be　something　in　that　if　one　got　behind　it。　Dogs　are　fashionable。　There　would　be　a　market　for　a　really　good　medicine。〃
　〃I'm　afraid　you　couldn't　put　Mr。　Smethurst's　remedy　on　the　market。　It　only　works　when　the　dog　has　been　overeating　himself　and　not　taking　any　exercise。〃
　〃Well；　that's　all　these　fancy　dogs　ever　have　the　matter　with　them。　It　looks　to　me　as　if　I　might　do　business　with　this　man。　I'll　get　his　address　from　Mitchell。〃
　〃It's　no　use　thinking　of　it；　uncle　Peter。　You　couldn't　do　business　with　himin　that　way。　All　Mr。　Smethurst　does　when　any　one　brings　him　a　fat；　unhealthy　dog　is　to　feed　it　next　to　nothingjust　the　simplest　kind　of　food；　you　knowand　make　it　run　about　a　lot。　And　in　about　a　week　the　dog's　as　well　and　happy　and　nice　as　he　can　possibly　be。〃
　〃Oh；〃　said　Mr。　Pett；　disappointed。
　Ann　touched　the　keys　of　her　machine　softly。
　〃Why　I　mentioned　Mr。　Smethurst；〃　she　said；　〃it　was　because　we　had　been　talking　of　Ogden。　Don't　you　think　his　treatment　would　be　just　what　Ogden　needs？〃
　Mr。　Pett's　eyes　gleamed。
　〃It's　a　shame　he　can't　have　a　week　or　two　of　it！〃
　Ann　played　a　little　tune　with　her　finger…tips　on　the　desk。
　〃It　would　do　him　good；　wouldn't　it？〃
　Silence　fell　upon　the　room；　broken　only　by　the　tapping　of　the　typewriter。　Mr。　Pett；　having　finished　the　ic　supplement；　turned　to　the　sporting　section；　for　he　was　a　baseball　fan　of　no　lukewarm　order。　The　claims　of　business　did　not　permit　him　to　see　as　many　games　as　he　could　wish；　but　he　followed　the　national　pastime　closely　on　the　printed　page　and　had　an　admiration　for　the　Napoleonic　gifts　of　Mr。　McGraw　which　would　have　gratified　that　gentleman　had　he　known　of　it。
　〃Uncle　Peter；〃　said　Ann；　turning　round　again。
　〃Eh？〃
　〃It's　funny　you　should　have　been　talking　about　Ogden　getting　kidnapped。　This　story　of　aunt　Nesta's　is　all　about　an　angel…childI　suppose　it's　meant　to　be　Ogdenbeing　stolen　and　hidden　and　all　that。　It's　odd　that　she　should　write　stories　like　this。　You　wouldn't　expect　it　of　her。〃
　〃Your　aunt；〃　said　Mr。　Pett；　〃lets　her　mind　run　on　that　sort　of　thing　a　good　deal。　She　tells　me　there　was　a　time；　not　so　long　ago；　when　half　the　kidnappers　in　America　were　after　him。　She　sent　him　to　school　in　Englandor；　rather；　her　husband　did。　They　were　separated　thenand；　as　far　as　I　can　follow　the　story；　they　all　took　the　next　boat　and　besieged　the　place。〃
　〃It's　a　pity　somebody　doesn't　smuggle　him　away　now　and　keep　him　till　he's　a　better　boy。〃
　〃Ah！〃　said　Mr。　Pett　wistfully。
　Ann　looked　at　him　fixedly；　but　his　eyes　were　once　more　on　his　paper。　She　gave　a　little　sigh；　and　turned　to　her　work　again。
　〃It's　quite　demoralising；　typing　aunt　Nesta's　stories；〃　she　said。　〃They　put　ideas　into　one's　head。〃
　Mr。　Pett　said　nothing。　He　was　reading　an　article　of　medical　interest　in　the　ma