The Jolly Corner - Генри Джеймс страница 2.

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She had come with him one day to see how his apartment-house was rising; he had helped her over gaps and explained to her plans, and while they were there had happened to have, before her, a brief but lively discussion with the man in charge, the representative of the building firm that had undertaken his work.  He had found himself quite standing up to this personage over a failure on the latters part to observe some detail of one of their noted conditions, and had so lucidly argued his case that, besides ever so prettily flushing, at the time, for sympathy in his triumph, she had afterwards said to him (though to a slightly greater effect of irony) that he had clearly for too many years neglected a real gift.  If he had but stayed at home he would have anticipated the inventor of the sky-scraper.  If he had but stayed at home he would have discovered his genius in time really to start some new variety of awful architectural hare and run it till it burrowed in a gold mine.  He was to remember these words, while the weeks elapsed, for the small silver ring they had sounded over the queerest and deepest of his own lately most disguised and most muffled vibrations.

It had begun to be present to him after the first fortnight, it had broken out with the oddest abruptness, this particular wanton wonderment: it met him thereand this was the image under which he himself judged the matter, or at least, not a little, thrilled and flushed with itvery much as he might have been met by some strange figure, some unexpected occupant, at a turn of one of the dim passages of an empty house.  The quaint analogy quite hauntingly remained with him, when he didnt indeed rather improve it by a still intenser form: that of his opening a door behind which he would have made sure of finding nothing, a door into a room shuttered and void, and yet so coming, with a great suppressed start, on some quite erect confronting presence, something planted in the middle of the place and facing him through the dusk.  After that visit to the house in construction he walked with his companion to see the other and always so much the better one, which in the eastward direction formed one of the corners,the jolly one precisely, of the street now so generally dishonoured and disfigured in its westward reaches, and of the comparatively conservative Avenue.  The Avenue still had pretensions, as Miss Staverton said, to decency; the old people had mostly gone, the old names were unknown, and here and there an old association seemed to stray, all vaguely, like some very aged person, out too late, whom you might meet and feel the impulse to watch or follow, in kindness, for safe restoration to shelter.

They went in together, our friends; he admitted himself with his key, as he kept no one there, he explained, preferring, for his reasons, to leave the place empty, under a simple arrangement with a good woman living in the neighbourhood and who came for a daily hour to open windows and dust and sweep.  Spencer Brydon had his reasons and was growingly aware of them; they seemed to him better each time he was there, though he didnt name them all to his companion, any more than he told her as yet how often, how quite absurdly often, he himself came.  He only let her see for the present, while they walked through the great blank rooms, that absolute vacancy reigned and that, from top to bottom, there was nothing but Mrs. Muldoons broomstick, in a corner, to tempt the burglar.  Mrs. Muldoon was then on the premises, and she loquaciously attended the visitors, preceding them from room to room and pushing back shutters and throwing up sashesall to show them, as she remarked, how little there was to see.  There was little indeed to see in the great gaunt shell where the main dispositions and the general apportionment of space, the style of an age of ampler allowances, had nevertheless for its master their honest pleading message, affecting him as some good old servants, some lifelong retainers appeal for a character, or even for a retiring-pension; yet it was also a remark of Mrs. Muldoons that, glad as she was to oblige him by her noonday round, there was a request she greatly hoped he would never make of her.  If he should wish her for any reason to come in after dark she would just tell him, if he plased, that he must ask it of somebody else.

The fact that there was nothing to see didnt militate for the worthy woman against what one might see, and she put it frankly to Miss Staverton that no lady could be expected to like, could she? craping up to thim top storeys in the ayvil hours.  The gas and the electric light were off the house, and she fairly evoked a gruesome vision of her march through the great grey roomsso many of them as there were too!with her glimmering taper.  Miss Staverton met her honest glare with a smile and the profession that she herself certainly would recoil from such an adventure.  Spencer Brydon meanwhile held his peacefor the moment; the question of the evil hours in his old home had already become too grave for him.  He had begun some time since to crape, and he knew just why a packet of candles addressed to that pursuit had been stowed by his own hand, three weeks before, at the back of a drawer of the fine old sideboard that occupied, as a fixture, the deep recess in the dining-room.  Just now he laughed at his companionsquickly however changing the subject; for the reason that, in the first place, his laugh struck him even at that moment as starting the odd echo, the conscious human resonance (he scarce knew how to qualify it) that sounds made while he was there alone sent back to his ear or his fancy; and that, in the second, he imagined Alice Staverton for the instant on the point of asking him, with a divination, if he ever so prowled.  There were divinations he was unprepared for, and he had at all events averted enquiry by the time Mrs. Muldoon had left them, passing on to other parts.

There was happily enough to say, on so consecrated a spot, that could be said freely and fairly; so that a whole train of declarations was precipitated by his friends having herself broken out, after a yearning look round: But I hope you dont mean they want you to pull this to pieces!  His answer came, promptly, with his re-awakened wrath: it was of course exactly what they wanted, and what they were at him for, daily, with the iteration of people who couldnt for their life understand a mans liability to decent feelings.  He had found the place, just as it stood and beyond what he could express, an interest and a joy.  There were values other than the beastly rent-values, and in short, in short!  But it was thus Miss Staverton took him up.  In short youre to make so good a thing of your sky-scraper that, living in luxury on those ill-gotten gains, you can afford for a while to be sentimental here!  Her smile had for him, with the words, the particular mild irony with which he found half her talk suffused; an irony without bitterness and that came, exactly, from her having so much imaginationnot, like the cheap sarcasms with which one heard most people, about the world of society, bid for the reputation of cleverness, from nobodys really having any.  It was agreeable to him at this very moment to be sure that when he had answered, after a brief demur, Well, yes; so, precisely, you may put it! her imagination would still do him justice.  He explained that even if never a dollar were to come to him from the other house he would nevertheless cherish this one; and he dwelt, further, while they lingered and wandered, on the fact of the stupefaction he was already exciting, the positive mystification he felt himself create.

He spoke of the value of all he read into it, into the mere sight of the walls, mere shapes of the rooms, mere sound of the floors, mere feel, in his hand, of the old silver-plated knobs of the several mahogany doors, which suggested the pressure of the palms of the dead the seventy years of the past in fine that these things represented, the annals of nearly three generations, counting his grandfathers, the one that had ended there, and the impalpable ashes of his long-extinct youth, afloat in the very air like microscopic motes.  She listened to everything; she was a woman who answered intimately but who utterly didnt chatter.  She scattered abroad therefore no cloud of words; she could assent, she could agree, above all she could encourage, without doing that.  Only at the last she went a little further than he had done himself.  And then how do you know?  You may still, after all, want to live here.  It rather indeed pulled him up, for it wasnt what he had been thinking, at least in her sense of the words, You mean I may decide to stay on for the sake of it?

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