pgw.adamselindistress-第4章

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I　mean；　and　these　darned　first　nights；　and　the　party　after　the　show　which　you　can't　sidestep。　Something　tells　me　I'm　about　through。〃
　Billie　Dore　nodded。
　〃Anybody　with　any　sense　is　always　about　through　with　the　show　business。　I　know　I　am。　If　you　think　I'm　wedded　to　my　art；　let　me　tell　you　I'm　going　to　get　a　divorce　the　first　chance　that　es　along。　It's　funny　about　the　show　business。　The　way　one　drifts　into　it　and　sticks；　I　mean。　Take　me；　for　example。　Nature　had　it　all　doped　out　for　me　to　be　the　Belle　of　Hicks　Corners。　　What　I　ought　to　have　done　was　to　buy　a　gingham　bonnet　and　milk　cows。　But　I　would　e　to　the　great　city　and　help　brighten　up　the　tired　business　man。〃
　〃I　didn't　know　you　were　fond　of　the　country；　Billie。〃
　〃Me？　I　wrote　the　words　and　music。　Didn't　you　know　I　was　a　country　kid？　My　dad　ran　a　Bide　a　Wee　Home　for　flowers；　and　I　used　to　know　them　all　by　their　middle　names。　He　was　a　nursery　gardener　out　in　Indiana。　I　tell　you；　when　I　see　a　rose　nowadays；　I　shake　its　hand　and　say：　'Well；　well；　Cyril；　how's　everything　with　you？　And　how　are　Joe　and　Jack　and　Jimmy　and　all　the　rest　of　the　boys　at　home？'　Do　you　know　how　I　used　to　put　in　my　time　the　first　few　nights　I　was　over　here　in　London？　　I　used　to　hang　around　Covent　Garden　with　my　head　back；　sniffing。　The　boys　that　mess　about　with　the　flowers　there　used　to　stub　their　toes　on　me　so　often　that　they　got　to　look　on　me　as　part　of　the　scenery。〃
　〃That's　where　we　ought　to　have　been　last　night。〃
　〃We'd　have　had　a　better　time。　Say；　George；　did　you　see　the　awful　mistake　on　Nature's　part　that　Babe　Sinclair　showed　up　with　towards　the　middle　of　the　proceedings？　You　must　have　noticed　him；　because　he　took　up　more　room　than　any　one　man　was　entitled　to。　His　name　was　Spenser　Gray。〃
　George　recalled　having　been　introduced　to　a　fat　man　of　his　own　age　who　answered　to　that　name。
　〃It's　a　darned　shame；〃　said　Billie　indignantly。　〃Babe　is　only　a　kid。　This　is　the　first　show　she's　been　in。　And　I　happen　to　know　there's　an　awfully　nice　boy　over　in　New　York　crazy　to　marry　her。　And　I'm　certain　this　gink　is　giving　her　a　raw　deal。　　He　tried　to　get　hold　of　me　about　a　week　ago；　but　I　turned　him　down　hard；　and　I　suppose　he　thinks　Babe　is　easier。　And　it's　no　good　talking　to　her；　she　thinks　he's　wonderful。　That's　another　kick　I　have　against　the　show　business。　It　seems　to　make　girls　such　darned　chumps。　Well；　I　wonder　how　much　longer　Mr。　　Arbuckle　is　going　to　be　retrieving　my　mail。　What　ho；　within　there；　Fatty！〃
　Mac　came　out；　apologetic；　carrying　letters。
　〃Sorry；　miss。　By　an　oversight　I　put　you　among　the　G's。〃
　〃All's　well　that　ends　well。　'Put　me　among　the　G's。'　There's　a　good　title　for　a　song　for　you；　George。　Excuse　me　while　I　grapple　with　the　correspondence。　I'll　bet　half　of　these　are　mash　notes。　I　got　three　between　the　first　and　second　acts　last　night。　　Why　the　nobility　and　gentry　of　this　burg　should　think　that　I'm　their　affinity　just　because　I've　got　golden　hairwhich　is　perfectly　genuine；　Mac；　I　can　show　you　the　pedigreeand　because　I　earn　an　honest　living　singing　off　the　key；　is　more　than　I　can　understand。〃
　Mac　leaned　his　massive　shoulders　fortably　against　the　building；　and　resumed　his　chat。
　〃I　expect　you're　feeling　very　'appy　today；　sir？〃
　George　pondered。　He　was　certainly　feeling　better　since　he　had　seen　Billie　Dore；　but　he　was　far　from　being　himself。
　〃I　ought　to　be；　I　suppose。　But　I'm　not。〃
　〃Ah；　you're　getting　blarzy；　sir；　that's　what　it　is。　You've　'ad　too　much　of　the　fat；　you　'ave。　This　piece　was　a　big　'it　in　America；　wasn't　it？〃
　〃Yes。　It　ran　over　a　year　in　New　York；　and　there　are　three　panies　of　it　out　now。〃
　〃That's　'ow　it　is；　you　see。　You've　gone　and　got　blarzy。　　Too　big　a　'elping　of　success；　you've　'ad。〃　Mac　wagged　a　head　like　a　harvest　moon。　〃You　aren't　a　married　man；　are　you；　sir？〃
　Billie　Dore　finished　skimming　through　her　mail；　and　crumpled　the　letters　up　into　a　large　ball；　which　she　handed　to　Mac。
　〃Here's　something　for　you　to　read　in　your　spare　moments；　Mac。　Glance　through　them　any　time　you　have　a　suspicion　you　may　be　a　chump；　and　you'll　have　the　fort　of　knowing　that　there　are　others。　What　were　you　saying　about　being　married？〃
　〃Mr。　Bevan　and　I　was　'aving　a　talk　about　'im　being　blarzy；　miss。〃
　〃Are　you　blarzy；　George？〃
　〃So　Mac　says。〃
　〃And　why　is　he　blarzy；　miss？〃　demanded　Mac　rhetorically。
　〃Don't　ask　me；〃　said　Billie。　〃It's　not　my　fault。〃
　〃It's　because；　as　I　was　saying；　'e's　'ad　too　big　a　'elping　of　success；　and　because　'e　ain't　a　married　man。　You　did　say　you　wasn't　a　married　man；　didn't　you；　sir？〃
　〃I　didn't。　But　I'm　not。〃
　〃That's　'ow　it　is；　you　see。　You　pretty　soon　gets　sick　of　pulling　off　good　things；　if　you　ain't　got　nobody　to　pat　you　on　the　back　for　doing　of　it。　Why；　when　I　was　single；　if　I　got　'old　of　a　sure　thing　for　the　three　o'clock　race　and　picked　up　a　couple　of　quid；　the　thrill　of　it　didn't　seem　to　linger　somehow。　But　now；　if　some　of　the　gentlemen　that　e　'ere　put　me　on　to　something　safe　and　I　make　a　bit；　'arf　the　fascination　of　it　is　taking　the　stuff　'ome　and　rolling　it　on　to　the　kitchen　table　and　'aving　'er　pat　me　on　the　back。〃
　〃How　about　when　you　lose？〃
　〃I　don't　tell　'er；〃　said　Mac　simply。
　〃You　seem　to　understand　the　art　of　being　happy；　Mac。〃
　〃It　ain't　an　art；　sir。　It's　just　gettin'　'old　of　the　right　little　woman；　and　'aving　a　nice　little　'ome　of　your　own　to　go　back　to　at　night。〃
　〃Mac；〃　said　Billie　admiringly；　〃you　talk　like　a　Tin　Pan　Alley　song　hit；　except　that　you've　left　out　the　scent　of　honeysuckle　and　Old　Mister　Moon　climbing　up　over　the　trees。　Well；　you're　quite　right。　I'm　all　for　the　simple　and　domestic　myself。　If　I　could　find　the　right　man；　and　he　didn't　see　me　ing　and　duck；　I'd　bee　one　of　the　Mendelssohn's　March　Daughters　right　away。　Are　you　going；　George？　There's　a　rehearsal　at　two…thirty　for　cuts。〃
　〃I　want　to　get　the　evening　papers　and　send　off　a　cable　or　two。　　See　you　later。〃
　〃We　shall　meet　at　Philippi。〃
　Mac　eyed　George's　retreating　back　till　he　had　turned　the　corner。
　〃A　nice　pleasant　gentleman；　Mr。　Bevan；〃　he　said。　〃Too　bad　'e's　got　the　pip　the　way　'e　'as；　just　after　'avin'　a　big　success　like　this　'ere。　es　of　bein'　a　artist；　I　suppose。〃
　Miss　Dore　dived　into　her　vanity　case　and　produced　a　puff　with　which　she　proceeded　to　powder　her　nose。
　〃All　posers　are　nuts；　Mac。　I　was　in　a　show　once　where　the　manager　was　panning　the　poser　because　there　wasn't　a　number　in　the　score　that　had　a　tune　to　it。　The　poor　geek　admitted　they　weren't　very　tuney；　but　said　the　thing　about　his　music　was　that　it　had　such　a　wonderful　aroma。　They　all　get　that　way。　The　jazz　seems　to　go　to　their　heads。　George　is　all　right；　though；　and　don't　let　anyone　tell　you　different。〃
　〃Have　you　know　him　long；　miss？〃
　〃About　five　years。　I　was　a　stenographer　in　the　house　that　published　his　songs　when　I　first　met　him。　And　there's　another　thing　you've　got　to　hand　it　to　George　for。　He　hasn't　let　success　give　him　a　swelled　head。　The　money　that　boy　makes　is　sinful；　Mac。　He　wears　thousand　dollar　bills　next　to　his　skin　winter　and　summer。　But　he's　just　the　same　as　he　was　when　I　first　knew　him；　when　he　was　just　hanging　around　Broadway；　looking　out　for　a　chance　to　be　allowed　to　slip　a　couple　of　interpolated　numbers　into　any　old　show　that　came　along。　Yes。　Put　it　in　your　diary；　Mac；　and　write　it　on　your　cuff；　George　Bevan's　all　right。　He's　an　ace。〃
　Unconscious　of　these　eulogies；　which；　ing　from　one　whose　judgment　he　respected；　might　have　cheered　him　up；　George　wandered　down　Shaftesbury　Avenue　feeling　more　depressed　than　ever。　The　sun　had　gone　in　for　the　time　being；　and　the　east　wind　was　frolicking　round　him　like　a　playful　puppy；　patting　him　with　a　cold　paw；　nuzzling　his　ankles；　bounding　away　and　bounding　back　again；　and　behaving　generally　as　east　winds　do　when　they　discover　a　victim　who　has　e　out　without　his　spring　overcoat。　　It　was　plain　to　George　now　that　the　sun　and　the　wind　were　a　couple　of　confidence　tricksters　working　together　as　a　team。　The　sun　had　disarmed　him　with　specious　promises　and　an　air　of　cheery　goodfellowship；　and　had　delivered　him　into　the　hands　of　the　wind；　which　was　now　going　through　him　with　the　swift　thoroughness　of　the　professional　hold…up　artist。　He　quickened　his　steps；　and　began　to　wonder　if　he　was　so　sunk　in　senile　decay　as　to　have　acquired　a　liver。
　He　discarded　the　theory　as　repellent。　And　yet　there　must　be　a　reason　for　his　depression。　Today　of　all　days；　as　Mac　had　pointed　out；　he　had　everything　to　make　him　happy。　Popular　as　he　was　in　America；　this　was　the　first　piece　of　his　to　be　produced　in　London；　and　there　was　no　doubt　that　it　was　a　success　of　unusual　dimensions。　And　yet　he　felt　no　elation。
　He　reached　Piccadilly　and　turned　westwards。　And　then；　as　he　passed　the　gates　of　the　In　and　Out　Club；　he　had　a　moment　of　clear　vision　and　understood　everything。　He　was　depressed　because　he　was　bored；　and　he　was　bored　because　he　was　lonely。　　Mac；　that　solid　thinker；　had　been　right。　The　solution　of　the　problem　of　life　was　to　get　hold　of　the　right　girl　and　have　a　home　to　go　back　to　at　night。　He　was　mildly　surprised　that　he　had　tried　in　any　other　direction　for　an　explanation　of　his　gloom。　It　was　all　the　more　inexplicable　in　that　fully　80　per　cent　of　the　lyrics　which　he　had　set　in　the　course　of　his　musical　edy　career　had　had　that　thought　at　the　back　of　them。
　George　gave　himself　up　to　an　orgy　of　sentimentality。　He　seemed　to　be　alone　in　the　world　which　had　paired　itself　off　into　a　sort　of　seething　welter　of　happy　couples。　Taxicabs　full　of　happy　couples　rolled　by　every　minute。　Passing　omnibuses　creaked　beneath　the　weight　of　happy　couples。　The　very　policeman　across　the　Street　had　just　grinned　at　a　flitting　shop　girl；　and　she　had　smiled　back　at　him。　The　only　female　in　London　who　did　not　appear　to　be　attached　was　a　girl　in　brown　who　was　ing　along　the　sidewalk　at　a　leisurely　pace；　looking　about　her　in　a　manner　that　suggested　that　she　found　Piccadilly　a　new　and　stimulating　spectacle。
　As　far　as　George　could　see　she　was　an　extremely　pretty　girl；　small　and　dainty；　with　a　proud　little　tilt　to　her　head　and　the　jaunty　walk　that　spoke　of　perfect　health。　She　was；　in　fact；　precisely　the　sort　of　girl　that　George　felt　he　could　love　with　all　the　stored…up　devotion　of　an　old　buffer　of　twenty…seven　who　had　squandered　none　of　his　rich　nature　in　foolish　flirtations。　He　had　just　begun　to　weave　a　rose…tinted　romance　about　their　two　selves；　when　a　cold　reaction　set　in。　Even　as　he　paused　to　watch　the　girl　threading　her　way　through　the　crowd；　the　east　wind　jabbed　an　icy　finger　down　the　back　of　his　neck；　and　the　chill　of　it　sobered　him。　After　all；　he　reflected　bitterly；　this　girl　was　only　alone　because　she　was　on　her　way　somewhere　to　meet　some　confounded　man。　Besides　there　was　no　earthly　chance　of　getting　to　know　her。　You　can't　rush　up　to　pretty　girls　in　the　street　and　tell　them　you　are　lonely。　At　least；　you　can；　but　it　doesn't　get　you　anywhere　except　the　police　station。　George's　gloom　deepeneda　thing　he　would　not　have　believed　possible　a　moment　before。　He　felt　that　he　had　been　born　too　late。　The　restraints　of　modern　civilization　irked　him。　It　was　not；　he　told　himself；　like　this　in　the　good　old　days。
　In　the　Middle　Ages；　for　example；　this　girl　would　have　been　a　Damsel；　and　in　that　happy　time　practically　everybody　whose　technical　rating　was　that　of