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DEATH OF THE LION.TXT-Part2_HENRY JAMES(1843-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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my connexion with the syndicate just mentioned I hold a particular



commission from THE TATLER, whose most prominent department,

'Smatter and Chatter' - I dare say you've often enjoyed it -



attracts such attention. I was honoured only last week, as a

representative of THE TATLER, with the confidence of Guy



Walsingham, the brilliant author of 'Obsessions.' She pronounced

herself thoroughly pleased with my sketch of her method; she went



so far as to say that I had made her genius more comprehensible

even to herself."



Neil Paraday had dropped on the garden-bench and sat there at once

detached and confounded; he looked hard at a bare spot in the lawn,



as if with an anxiety that had suddenly made him grave. His

movement had been interpreted by his visitor as an invitation to



sink sympathetically into a wicker chair that stood hard by, and

while Mr. Morrow so settled himself I felt he had taken official



possession and that there was no undoing it. One had heard of

unfortunate people's having "a man in the house," and this was just



what we had. There was a silence of a moment, during which we

seemed to acknowledge in the only way that was possible the



presence of universal fate; the sunny stillness took no pity, and

my thought, as I was sure Paraday's was doing, performed within the



minute a great distant revolution. I saw just how emphatic I

should make my rejoinder to Mr. Pinhorn, and that having come, like



Mr. Morrow, to betray, I must remain as long as possible to save.

Not because I had brought my mind back, but because our visitors



last words were in my ear, I presently enquired with gloomy

irrelevance if Guy Walsingham were a woman.



"Oh yes, a mere pseudonym - rather pretty, isn't it? - and

convenient, you know, for a lady who goes in for the larger



latitude. 'Obsessions, by Miss So-and-so,' would look a little

odd, but men are more naturally indelicate. Have you peeped into



'Obsessions'?" Mr. Morrow continued sociably to our companion.

Paraday, still absent, remote, made no answer, as if he hadn't



heard the question: a form of intercourse that appeared to suit

the cheerful Mr. Morrow as well as any other. Imperturbably bland,



he was a man of resources - he only needed to be on the spot. He

had pocketed the whole poor place while Paraday and I were wool-



gathering, and I could imagine that he had already got his "heads."

His system, at any rate, was justified by the inevitability with



which I replied, to save my friend the trouble: "Dear no - he

hasn't read it. He doesn't read such things!" I unwarily added.



"Things that are TOO far over the fence, eh?" I was indeed a

godsend to Mr. Morrow. It was the psychological moment; it



determined the appearance of his note-book, which, however, he at

first kept slightly behind him, even as the dentist approaching his



victim keeps the horrible forceps. "Mr. Paraday holds with the

good old proprieties - I see!" And thinking of the thirty-seven



influential journals, I found myself, as I found poor Paraday,

helplessly assisting at the promulgation of this ineptitude.



"There's no point on which distinguished views are so acceptable as

on this question - raised perhaps more strikingly than ever by Guy



Walsingham - of the permissibility of the larger latitude. I've an

appointment, precisely in connexion with it, next week, with Dora



Forbes, author of 'The Other Way Round,' which everybody's talking

about. Has Mr. Paraday glanced at 'The Other Way Round'?" Mr.



Morrow now frankly appealed to me. I took on myself to repudiate

the supposition, while our companion, still silent, got up



nervously and walked away. His visitor paid no heed to his

withdrawal; but opened out the note-book with a more fatherly pat.



"Dora Forbes, I gather, takes the ground, the same as Guy

Walsingham's, that the larger latitude has simply got to come. He



holds that it has got to be squarely faced. Of course his sex

makes him a less prejudiced witness. But an authoritative word



from Mr. Paraday - from the point of view of HIS sex, you know -

would go right round the globe. He takes the line that we HAVEN'T



got to face it?"

I was bewildered: it sounded somehow as if there were three sexes.



My interlocutor's pencil was poised, my private responsibility

great. I simply sat staring, none the less, and only found



presence of mind to say: "Is this Miss Forbes a gentleman?"




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