Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham (classic english novels .TXT) 📕

fortunes he could have made if he had bought certain stock at certain times. It made Philip’s mouth water, for in one way and another he was spending more than he had expected, and it would have suited him very well to make a little money by the easy method Macalister suggested.

“Next time I hear of a really good thing I’ll let you know,” said the stockbroker. “They do come along sometimes. It’s only a matter of biding one’s time.”

Philip could not help thinking how delightful it would be to make fifty pounds, so that he could give Norah the furs she so badly needed for the winter. He looked at the shops in Regent Street and picked out the articles he could buy for the money. She deserved everything. She made his life very happy.

LXIX

One afternoon, when he went back to his rooms from the hospital to wash and tidy himself before going to tea as usual with Norah, as he let himself in with his latchkey, his landlady opened the door for him.

“There’s a lady waiting to see you,” she said.

“Me?” exclaimed Philip.

He was surprised. It would only be Norah, and he had no idea what had brought her.

“I shouldn’t ’ave let her in, only she’s been three times, and she seemed that upset at not finding you, so I told her she could wait.”

He pushed past the explaining landlady and burst into the room. His heart turned sick. It was Mildred. She was sitting down, but got up hurriedly as he came in. She did not move towards him nor speak. He was so surprised that he did not know what he was saying.

“What the hell d’you want?” he asked.

She did not answer, but began to cry. She did not put her hands to her eyes, but kept them hanging by the side of her body. She looked like a housemaid applying for a situation. There was a dreadful humility in her bearing. Philip did not know what feelings came over him. He had a sudden impulse to turn round and escape from the room.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he said at last.

“I wish I was dead,” she moaned.

Philip left her standing where she was. He could only think at the moment of steadying himself. His knees were shaking. He looked at her, and he groaned in despair.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“He’s left me⁠—Emil.”

Philip’s heart bounded. He knew then that he loved her as passionately as ever. He had never ceased to love her. She was standing before him humble and unresisting. He wished to take her in his arms and cover her tear-stained face with kisses. Oh, how long the separation had been! He did not know how he could have endured it.

“You’d better sit down. Let me give you a drink.”

He drew the chair near the fire and she sat in it. He mixed her whiskey and soda, and, sobbing still, she drank it. She looked at him with great, mournful eyes. There were large black lines under them. She was thinner and whiter than when last he had seen her.

“I wish I’d married you when you asked me,” she said.

Philip did not know why the remark seemed to swell his heart. He could not keep the distance from her which he had forced upon himself. He put his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m awfully sorry you’re in trouble.”

She leaned her head against his bosom and burst into hysterical crying. Her hat was in the way and she took it off. He had never dreamt that she was capable of crying like that. He kissed her again and again. It seemed to ease her a little.

“You were always good to me, Philip,” she said. “That’s why I knew I could come to you.”

“Tell me what’s happened.”

“Oh, I can’t, I can’t,” she cried out, breaking away from him.

He sank down on his knees beside her and put his cheek against hers.

“Don’t you know that there’s nothing you can’t tell me? I can never blame you for anything.”

She told him the story little by little, and sometimes she sobbed so much that he could hardly understand.

“Last Monday week he went up to Birmingham, and he promised to be back on Thursday, and he never came, and he didn’t come on the Friday, so I wrote to ask what was the matter, and he never answered the letter. And I wrote and said that if I didn’t hear from him by return I’d go up to Birmingham, and this morning I got a solicitor’s letter to say I had no claim on him, and if I molested him he’d seek the protection of the law.”

“But it’s absurd,” cried Philip. “A man can’t treat his wife like that. Had you had a row?”

“Oh, yes, we’d had a quarrel on the Sunday, and he said he was sick of me, but he’d said it before, and he’d come back all right. I didn’t think he meant it. He was frightened, because I told him a baby was coming. I kept it from him as long as I could. Then I had to tell him. He said it was my fault, and I ought to have known better. If you’d only heard the things he said to me! But I found out precious quick that he wasn’t a gentleman. He left me without a penny. He hadn’t paid the rent, and I hadn’t got the money to pay it, and the woman who kept the house said such things to me⁠—well, I might have been a thief the way she talked.”

“I thought you were going to take a flat.”

“That’s what he said, but we just took furnished apartments in Highbury. He was that mean. He said I was extravagant, he didn’t give me anything to be extravagant with.”

She had an extraordinary way of mixing the trivial with the important. Philip was puzzled. The whole thing was incomprehensible.

“No man could be such a blackguard.”

“You