South Wind
pinions about that. The trees, arbours, and winding ways of his garden were festooned that evening with hundreds of Chinese lamps whose multi-coloured light
ung closely to her skirts in view of that impending
iving there. Provided always, dear lady, that you are to be
n up a new world of delights. Dear me. I fear I am becoming a gourmand, like Lucullus. Though Lucullus, to be sure, was a t
of the chef-that celebrated artist whom Keith had inveigled out of the service of a life-loving old Ambassador by the threat of disclosing to th
s, fruits, salads, ices, the lanterns and other joys of the evening and announced, after a rough computation, that Keith's outlay for that little s
ought to tr
then," sa
an bowl of iced punch. The lady was in grand condition; festive, playful, positively flirtatious. She nibbled, between her libations, at a savoury biscuit (she hated solid food, as a rule) in order, she said, to
saying. "It's all as right as
hdays in the year, each of them due t
t in an appearance. Mortal enemies, they used to sit on opposite pews, glaring across the vacant building to see if they could catch each other asleep, responding at irregular intervals out of sheer cussedness, and trying vainly to feel more charitable during those moments when the scraggy young curate-generally some social failure who raked together a few pounds from these hazardous continental engagements-recited the Gospel according to Saint John. T
the fact that one of their party had been to Easter Island. Even the PARROCO could not help laughing as Keith, with irresistible good nature, seized him by the arm and thrust a MARRON GLACE between his lips. An ideal host! The "Falernian system" was in abeyance that day. It was the one evening in the year when, in the interests of his guests, he could be relied upon to remain absolutely sober to the last moment; a state of affairs which doubtless had its drawbacks, seeing that it made him,
faned, if but for one day, by the presence of a motley assemblage of nonentities. But a man of his income is expected to do something to amuse his fellow-creatures. One owes certain duties to society. Hence this gathering, which had become a regular feature in the spring calendar of the island. Having once decided on the step, he did not propose to be bound by conventionalities which were the poison of rational human intercourse. Unlike the Duchess and Mr.
ng in pursuit of his new friend Muhlen. He found him, and was soon relating succulent anecdotes of his summer holidays-anecdotes, all about women, which Muhlen tried to cap with experiences of his own. The judge always went to the same place-Salsomaggiore, a thermal station whose waters were good for his sore legs. He described to Muhlen how, in jaunty clothes and shining shoes,
that of Madame Steynlin. An admiring audience had gathered around him while he performed a frenzied cancan in an open moonlit space; he always danced when he had enough to drink. The judge looked on with envy. It sickened him to realize that those far-famed luncheons and dinners of Madame Steynlin were being devoured by a savage l
er sweetest accents, "do you know of w
l I g
that it is very, very wrong of a man lik
than to need one. Especially if it h
t means someth
ncesco
t have you done with them? Is it true that
ow. All that was before
pt them locked up in di
ring notes. Novelists try to make us believe that women delight in men's society. Rubbish! The
iest i
ipe of some wonderful sauce? Is it true that you used to be known as the Lightning Lover? Is it t
tes a good de
ok one of those red-coated Chelsea pensioners for a p
s in a previous incarnation. Do come and listen to the music
ad man," she said. "Now do try and see if you
st extinct tribe of gipsies that roamed up and down the glens of those mysterious mountains whose purple summits were visible, on clear days, from his own windows. After complex and costly negotiations they had allowed themselves to be embarked, for this one night only, in a capaci
ir flashing teeth and smiled from time to time in frank wonder, whereas the boys, superbly savage, like young panthers caught in a trap, kept their eyes downcast or threw distrustful, defiant glances round them. Here they sat in silence, smoking tobacco and taking deep draughts out of a pitcher of milk which was handed round from one to the other. Occasionally the older painst the framework of the paper lanterns; the south wind passed through the garden like the breath of a friend, bearing the aromatic burden of a thousand night-blooming shrubs and flowers. Young people, meeting here, would greet one another shyly, with un
I begin to understand its laws. They are physical. I seem to feel the effect of it in the lower part of my ch
said the bishop,
? Yes? Well, I will try to explain it then"-and her eye turned, with a kind of maternal solicitude, down the pathway to where, in that patch of bright moonsh
good of you to come. I would not have asked you to such a worldly
akes me dream of that East which it has never been my fortune, alas, to behold. What a flawless group! There is something archaic, Orient
Keith, "are not e
ne note-how primitive, how scornfully unintellectual! It is like a passionate lover knocking to gain an entrance into our hearts. And he succ
is," remarked M
our variety and love of floral, human, or other naturalistic motives. But by this simple means they attain their end-a direct appeal. Their art, like their music, goes straight to the senses; it is not deflected or disturbed
the whole world for his camping-ground. No,
He had a little business to transact with him-he fervently hoped
alked up to him and said in a fatherly tone: "Will you confer a favour, Mr. Denis, on an old man who lives much alone? Will you come and see me, as you promised? My daughter
d, was uttering some appropriate
ows? Wasn't she com
cousin is a particular friend of mine, Heard, though I have not seen her
t-you remember our conversation? Wel, I have thought of an insuperable objection to your Mediterranean theory.
, meditatively. "We can tame it, at all events. I do n
rrupted Keith, "closet
nsitive skins, would have complained of it more frequently. The deforestation of Northern Africa, I suspect, has much to do with it. Frenchmen are now trying to revive those
obse
f translating Petronius. But I discovered certain passages in the book which are almost improper. I don't think the public ought to be put into possession of such stuff. I am rather sorry; I like Petroniu
e and out of place, like man
alovegl
The truth is that a man, of whom we say this, is born at exactly the right moment; that those with whose customs and aspirations he seems to be in discord have urgent need of him at that particular time. No great man is ever born too soon or too late. When we say that the time is not ripe for this orgh some pleasant thought w
. Edgar Marten who, after doing full justice to the food and drink
invincible horror of death; he quailed at the mere mention of the black
soon. And I know one man who is born too late. Who? Y
re building a temple for Greece; he lacked the interval of centuries which has allowed mankind to see their work in its true perspective. He possessed traditional moral standards whereby to judge the actions of historical contemporaries; he could praise or blame his politicians with a good conscience. For the Parthenon creators he had no sure norm. The standards were not yet evolved. Pheidias was a talented fellow-citizen-a hewer in stone by profession: what
ng too thirsty and restless to discuss art-matters. "C
d sinister freak of nature, and moved on with jocular words. Nobody ventured to overstep the threshold, whether from religious fear or because of something repellent, something almost putrescent, which radiated from his person. A contingent of Little White Cows, a kind of bodyguard, stood at a respectful distance beyond, intent upon his every movement. The Master never stirred. He sat there to be looked at-accustomed to homage almost divine; beatifically inane. Like the Christians of old, he wore no hat. The head wa
d to get out of control. They moved; they began to chatter and to mumble, in childish fashio
his pins of late; if he sat on any by a straight-backed chair they would never get him up again. To think that was
accid, unwholesome-looking hand was raised slowly, in a kind of deprecatory gesture; then allowed to fall again upon the be
while," said Keith, "or
lcohol, you know. Whisk
But it's going into
don't yo
he Count. "A Buddha in
of a bad, rea
Mr. Heard. "He remi
t and fishlike-i
heek to call itself a Messiah. Thank God I'm a Jew; it's not business of mine. But if I were a Christian, I'd bash his
g. "Come! He can't help his face, I fancy. Have you no room in your heart for an original? And don't you think-quite apart from questions of
hat. Can't a fellow be a Messiah without sporting a pink shirt or fancy dressing-gown or blue pyjamas or something? But there you are! I defy you to name me a single-barrelled crank. If a man is a religious lunatic, or a vegetarian, he is sure to be touched in some other department as well; he will be an anti-vivisectionist, a nutfooder, costume-maniac, stamp-collector, or a spiritualist into the barga
engaged in some deep conversatio
ired without bidding farewell to their host; he liked them to feel at their ease, to take "French leave" whenever so disposed-to depart "A L'ANGLAISE," as the French say. The garden was nearly empty. A great quietude had f
Keith, who had raised his voice in emphasis and w
calyptic nonsense such as no sane man can take seriously. Nonsense of the right kind, the uncompromising kind. That is my point. The paralysing, sterilizing cult of these people offers a far better spring-board into a
oard than the English. The queer thing is, that the Russians won't jump, wh
like Keith! "DEMI-VIERGE concessions to common sense"; what d
out it to-morr
ngers still lay, starfish-wise, upon the folds of that soiled homespun; his eyes sti
ass wa
is head turned in the di
known, respectively, as the "goldfinch" and the "red apple," they conveyed him out of that shelter into the deserted, moonlit garden. He leaned heavily on the arm of the youth
ing," whispered Keith. "It's