pgw.piccadillyjim-第6节

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　Hammond　Chester's　daughter；　and　she　spoke　to　him　with　the　voice　of　Hammond　Chester。　She　was　her　father's　child　and　she　was　going　to　start　something。
　〃I've　arranged　it　all　with　Jerry；〃　said　Ann。　〃He's　going　to　help　me　smuggle　Ogden　away　to　that　friend　of　his　I　told　you　about　who　keeps　the　dog…hospital：　and　the　friend　is　going　to　keep　him　until　he　reforms。　Isn't　it　a　perfectly　splendid　idea？〃
　Mr。　Pett　blanched。　The　frightfulness　of　reality　had　exceeded　anticipation。
　〃But；　Ann！〃
　The　words　came　from　him　in　a　strangled　bleat。　His　whole　being　was　paralysed　by　a　clammy　horror。　This　was　beyond　the　uttermost　limit　of　his　fears。　And；　to　plete　the　terror　of　the　moment；　he　knew；　even　while　he　rebelled　against　the　insane　lawlessness　of　her　scheme；　that　he　was　going　to　agree　to　it；　andworst　of　allthat　deep；　deep　down　in　him　there　was　a　feeling　toward　it　which　did　not　dare　to　e　to　the　surface　but　which　he　knew　to　be　approval。
　〃Of　course　Jerry　would　do　it　for　nothing；〃　said　Ann；　〃but　I　promised　him　that　you　would　give　him　something　for　his　trouble。　You　can　arrange　all　that　yourselves　later。〃
　〃But；　Ann！　。　。　。　But；　Ann！　。　。　。　Suppose　your　aunt　finds　out　who　did　it！〃
　〃Well；　there　will　be　a　tremendous　row！〃　said　Ann　posedly。　〃And　you　will　have　to　assert　yourself。　It　will　be　a　splendid　thing　for　you。　You　know　you　are　much　too　kind　to　every　one；　uncle　Peter。　I　don't　think　there's　any　one　who　would　put　up　with　what　you　do。　Father　told　me　in　one　of　his　letters　that　he　used　to　call　you　Patient　Pete　as　a　boy。〃
　Mr。　Pett　started。　Not　for　many　a　day　had　a　nickname　which　he　considered　the　most　distasteful　of　all　possible　nicknames　risen　up　from　its　grave　to　haunt　him。　Patient　Pete！　He　had　thought　the　repulsive　title　buried　forever　in　the　same　tomb　as　his　dead　youth。　Patient　Pete！　The　first　faint　glimmer　of　the　flame　of　rebellion　began　to　burn　in　his　bosom。
　〃Patient　Pete！〃
　〃Patient　Pete！〃　said　Ann　inexorably。
　〃But；　Ann；〃there　was　pathos　in　Mr。　Pett's　voice〃I　like　a　peaceful　life。〃
　〃You'll　never　have　one　if　you　don't　stand　up　for　yourself。　You　know　quite　well　that　father　is　right。　You　do　let　every　one　trample　on　you。　Do　you　think　father　would　let　Ogden　worry　him　and　have　his　house　filled　with　affected　imitation　geniuses　so　that　he　couldn't　find　a　room　to　be　alone　in？〃
　〃But；　Ann；　your　father　is　different。　He　likes　fusses。　I've　known　your　father　contradict　a　man　weighing　two　hundred　pounds　out　of　sheer　exuberance。　There's　a　lot　of　your　father　in　you；　Ann。　I've　often　noticed　it。〃
　〃There　is！　That's　why　I'm　going　to　make　you　put　your　foot　down　sooner　or　later。　You're　going　to　turn　all　these　loafers　out　of　the　house。　And　first　of　all　you're　going　to　help　us　send　Ogden　away　to　Mr。　Smithers。〃
　There　was　a　long　silence。
　〃It's　your　red　hair！〃　said　Mr。　Pett　at　length；　with　the　air　of　a　man　who　has　been　solving　a　problem。　〃It's　your　red　hair　that　makes　you　like　this；　Ann。　Your　father　has　red　hair；　too。〃
　Ann　laughed。
　〃It's　not　my　fault　that　I　have　red　hair；　uncle　Peter。　It's　my　misfortune。〃
　Mr。　Pett　shook　his　head。
　〃Other　people's　misfortune；　too！〃　he　said。
　
　CHAPTER　II
　THE　EXILED　FAN
　
　LONDON　brooded　under　a　grey　sky。　There　had　been　rain　in　the　night；　and　the　trees　were　still　dripping。　Presently；　however；　there　appeared　in　the　laden　haze　a　watery　patch　of　blue：　and　through　this　crevice　in　the　clouds　the　sun；　diffidently　at　first　but　with　gradually　increasing　confidence；　peeped　down　on　the　fashionable　and　exclusive　turf　of　Grosvenor　Square。　Stealing　across　the　square；　its　rays　reached　the　massive　stone　walls　of　Drexdale　House；　until　recently　the　London　residence　of　the　earl　of　that　name；　then；　passing　through　the　window　of　the　breakfast…room；　played　lightly　on　the　partially　bald　head　of　Mr。　Bingley　Crocker；　late　of　New　York　in　the　United　States　of　America；　as　he　bent　over　his　morning　paper。　Mrs。　Bingley　Crocker；　busy　across　the　table　reading　her　mail；　the　rays　did　not　touch。　Had　they　done　so；　she　would　have　rung　for　Bayliss；　the　butler；　to　e　and　lower　the　shade；　for　she　endured　liberties　neither　from　Man　nor　from　Nature。
　Mr。　Crocker　was　about　fifty　years　of　age；　clean…shaven　and　of　a　fortable　stoutness。　He　was　frowning　as　he　read。　His　smooth；　good…humoured　face　wore　an　expression　which　might　have　been　disgust；　perplexity；　or　a　blend　of　both。　His　wife；　on　the　other　hand；　was　looking　happy。　She　extracted　the　substance　from　her　correspondence　with　swift　glances　of　her　pelling　eyes；　just　as　she　would　have　extracted　guilty　secrets　from　Bingley；　if　he　had　had　any。　This　was　a　woman　who；　like　her　sister　Nesta；　had　been　able　all　her　life　to　acplish　more　with　a　glance　than　other　women　with　recrimination　and　threat。　It　had　been　a　popular　belief　among　his　friends　that　her　late　husband；　the　well…known　Pittsburg　millionaire　G。　G。　van　Brunt；　had　been　in　the　habit　of　automatically　confessing　all　if　he　merely　caught　the　eye　of　her　photograph　on　his　dressing　table。
　From　the　growing　pile　of　opened　envelopes　Mrs。　Crocker　looked　up；　a　smile　softening　the　firm　line　of　her　lips。
　〃A　card　from　Lady　Corstorphine；　Bingley；　for　her　at…home　on　the　twenty…ninth。〃
　Mr。　Crocker；　still　absorbed；　snorted　absently。
　〃One　of　the　most　exclusive　hostesses　in　England。　。　。　。　She　has　influence　with　the　right　sort　of　people。　Her　brother；　the　Duke　of　Devizes；　is　the　Premier's　oldest　friend。〃
　〃Uh？〃
　〃The　Duchess　of　Axminster　has　written　to　ask　me　to　look　after　a　stall　at　her　bazaar　for　the　Indigent　Daughters　of　the　Clergy。〃
　〃Huh？〃
　〃Bingley！　You　aren't　listening。　What　is　that　you　are　reading？〃
　Mr。　Crocker　tore　himself　from　the　paper。
　〃This？　Oh；　I　was　looking　at　a　report　of　that　cricket　game　you　made　me　go　and　see　yesterday。〃
　〃Oh？　I　am　glad　you　have　begun　to　take　an　interest　in　cricket。　It　is　simply　a　social　necessity　in　England。　Why　you　ever　made　such　a　fuss　about　taking　it　up；　I　can't　think。　You　used　to　be　so　fond　of　watching　baseball　and　cricket　is　just　the　same　thing。〃
　A　close　observer　would　have　marked　a　deepening　of　the　look　of　pain　on　Mr。　Crocker's　face。　Women　say　this　sort　of　thing　carelessly；　with　no　wish　to　wound：　but　that　makes　it　none　the　less　hard　to　bear。
　From　the　hall　outside　came　faintly　the　sound　of　the　telephone；　then　the　measured　tones　of　Bayliss　answering　it。　Mr。　Crocker　returned　to　his　paper。
　Bayliss　entered。
　〃Lady　Corstorphine　desires　to　speak　to　you　on　the　telephone；　madam。〃
　Half…way　to　the　door　Mrs。　Crocker　paused；　as　if　recalling　something　that　had　slipped　her　memory。
　〃Is　Mr。　James　getting　up；　Bayliss？〃
　〃I　believe　not；　madam。　I　am　informed　by　one　of　the　house…maids　who　passed　his　door　a　short　time　back　that　there　were　no　sounds。〃
　Mrs。　Crocker　left　the　room。　Bayliss；　preparing　to　follow　her　example；　was　arrested　by　an　exclamation　from　the　table。
　〃Say！〃
　His　master's　voice。
　〃Say；　Bayliss；　e　here　a　minute。　Want　to　ask　you　something。〃
　The　butler　approached　the　table。　It　seemed　to　him　that　his　employer　was　not　looking　quite　himself　this　morning。　There　was　something　a　trifle　wild；　a　little　haggard；　about　his　expression。　He　had　remarked　on　it　earlier　in　the　morning　in　the　Servants'　Hall。
　As　a　matter　of　fact；　Mr。　Crocker's　ailment　was　a　perfectly　simple　one。　He　was　suffering　from　one　of　those　acute　spasms　of　home…sickness；　which　invariably　racked　him　in　the　earlier　Summer　months。　Ever　since　his　marriage　five　years　previously　and　his　simultaneous　removal　from　his　native　land　he　had　been　a　chronic　victim　to　the　plaint。　The　symptoms　grew　less　acute　in　Winter　and　Spring；　but　from　May　onward　he　suffered　severely。
　Poets　have　dealt　feelingly　with　the　emotions　of　practically　every　variety　except　one。　They　have　sung　of　Ruth；　of　Israel　in　bondage；　of　slaves　pining　for　their　native　Africa；　and　of　the　miner's　dream　of　home。　But　the　sorrows　of　the　baseball　bug；　pelled　by　fate　to　live　three　thousand　miles　away　from　the　Polo　Grounds；　have　been　neglected　in　song。　Bingley　Crocker　was　such　a　one；　and　in　Summer　his　agonies　were　awful。　He　pined　away　in　a　country　where　they　said　〃Well　played；　sir！〃　when　they　mean　〃'at…a…boy！〃
　〃Bayliss；　do　you　play　cricket？〃
　〃I　am　a　little　past　the　age；　sir。　In　my　younger　days　。　。　。〃
　〃Do　you　understand　it？〃
　〃Yes；　sir。　I　frequently　spend　an　afternoon　at　Lord's　or　the　Oval　when　there　is　a　good　match。〃
　Many　who　enjoyed　a　merely　casual　acquaintance　with　the　butler　would　have　looked　on　this　as　an　astonishingly　unexpected　revelation　of　humanity　in　Bayliss；　but　Mr。　Crocker　was　not　surprised。　To　him；　from　the　very　beginning；　Bayliss　had　been　a　man　and　a　brother　who　was　always　willing　to　suspend　his　duties　in　order　to　answer　questions　dealing　with　the　thousand　and　one　problems　which　the　social　life　of　England　presented。　Mr。　Crocker's　mind　had　adjusted　itself　with　difficulty　to　the　niceties　of　class　distinction：　and；　while　he　had　cured　himself　of　his　early　tendency　to　address　the　butler　as　〃Bill；〃　he　never　failed　to　consult　him　as　man　to　man　in　his　moments　of　perplexity。　Bayliss　was　always　eager　to　be　of　assistance。　He　liked　Mr。　Crocker。　True；　his　manner　might　have　struck　a　more　sensitive　man　than　his　employer　as　a　shade　too　closely　resembling　that　of　an　indulgent　father　towards　a　son　who　was　not　quite　right　in　the　head：　but　it　had　genuine　affection