pgw.uneasymoney-第3部分

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　'But　you　were　very　nice　to　him。　You　told　me　yourself　that　you　spent　hours　helping　him　to　get　rid　of　his　slice；　whatever　that　is。'
　'We　happened　to　be　the　only　two　down　there　at　the　time；　so　I　was　as　civil　as　I　could　manage。　If　you're　marooned　at　a　Cornish　seaside　resort　out　of　the　season　with　a　man；　you　can't　spend　your　time　dodging　him。　And　this　man　had　a　slice　that　fascinated　me。　I　felt　at　the　time　that　it　was　my　mission　in　life　to　cure　him；　so　I　had　a　dash　at　it。　But　I　don't　see　how　on　the　strength　of　that　I　could　expert　the　old　boy　to　adopt　me。　He　probably　forgot　my　existence　after　I　had　left。'
　'You　said　you　met　him　in　London　a　month　or　two　afterwards；　and　he　hadn't　forgotten　you。'
　'Well；　yes；　that's　true。　He　was　walking　up　the　Haymarket　and　I　was　walking　down。　I　caught　his　eye；　and　he　nodded　and　passed　on。　I　don't　see　how　I　could　construe　that　into　an　invitation　to　go　and　sit　on　his　lap　and　help　myself　out　of　his　pockets。'
　'You　couldn't　expect　him　to　go　out　of　his　way　to　help　you；　but　probably　if　you　had　gone　to　him　he　would　have　done　something。'
　'You　haven't　the　pleasure　of　Mr　Ira　Nutbe's　acquaintance；　Claire；　or　you　wouldn't　talk　like　that。　He　wasn't　the　sort　of　man　you　could　get　things　out　of。　He　didn't　even　tip　the　caddie。　Besides；　can't　you　see　what　I　mean？　I　couldn't　trade　on　a　chance　acquaintance　of　the　golf　links　to'
　'That　is　just　what　I　plain　of　in　you。　You're　too　diffident。'
　'It　isn't　diffidence　exactly。　Talking　of　old　Nutbe；　I　was　speaking　to　Gates　again　the　other　night。　He　was　telling　me　about　America。　There's　a　lot　of　money　to　be　made　over　there；　you　know；　and　the　mittee　owes　me　a　holiday。　They　would　give　me　a　few　weeks　off　any　time　I　liked。
　'What　do　you　say？　Shall　I　pop　over　and　have　a　look　round？　I　might　happen　to　drop　into　something。　Gates　was　telling　me　about　fellows　he　knew　who　had　dropped　into　things　in　New　York。'
　'What's　the　good　of　putting　yourself　to　all　the　trouble　and　expense　of　going　to　America？　You　can　easily　make　all　you　want　in　London　if　you　will　only　try。　It　isn't　as　if　you　had　no　chances。　You　have　more　chances　than　almost　any　man　in　town。　With　your　title　you　could　get　all　the　directorships　in　the　City　that　you　wanted。'
　'Well；　the　fact　is；　this　business　of　taking　directorships　has　never　quite　appealed　to　me。　I　don't　know　anything　about　the　game；　and　I　should　probably　run　up　against　some　wildcat　pany。　I　can't　say　I　like　the　directorship　wheeze　much。　It's　the　idea　of　knowing　that　one's　name　would　be　being　used　as　a　bait。　Every　time　I　saw　it　on　a　prospectus　I　should　feel　like　a　trout　fly。'
　Claire　bit　her　lip。
　'It's　so　exasperating！'　she　broke　out。　'When　I　first　told　my　friends　that　I　was　engaged　to　Lord　Dawlish　they　were　tremendously　impressed。　They　took　it　for　granted　that　you　must　have　lots　of　money。　Now　I　have　to　keep　explaining　to　them　that　the　reason　we　don't　get　married　is　that　we　can't　afford　to。　I'm　almost　as　badly　off　as　poor　Polly　Davis　who　was　in　the　Heavenly　Waltz　pany　with　me　when　she　married　that　man；　Lord　Wetherby。　A　man　with　a　title　has　no　right　not　to　have　money。　It　makes　the　whole　thing　farcical。
　'If　I　were　in　your　place　I　should　have　tried　a　hundred　things　by　now；　but　you　always　have　some　silly　objection。　Why　couldn't　you；　for　instance；　have　taken　on　the　agency　of　that　what…d'you…call…it　car？'
　'What　I　called　it　would　have　been　nothing　to　what　the　poor　devils　who　bought　it　would　have　called　it。'
　'You　could　have　sold　hundreds　of　them；　and　the　pany　would　have　given　you　any　mission　you　asked。　You　know　just　the　sort　of　people　they　wanted　to　get　in　touch　with。'
　'But；　darling；　how　could　I？　Planting　Breitstein　on　the　club　would　have　been　nothing　pared　with　sowing　these　horrors　about　London。　I　couldn't　go　about　the　place　sticking　my　pals　with　a　car　which；　I　give　you　my　honest　word；　was　stuck　together　with　chewing…gum　and　tied　up　with　string。'
　'Why　not？　It　would　be　their　fault　if　they　bought　a　car　that　wasn't　any　good。　Why　should　you　have　to　worry　once　you　had　it　sold？'
　It　was　not　Lord　Dawlish's　lucky　afternoon。　All　through　lunch　he　had　been　saying　the　wrong　thing；　and　now　he　put　the　coping…stone　on　his　misdeeds。　Of　all　the　ways　in　which　he　could　have　answered　Claire's　question　he　chose　the　worst。
　'Erwell；'　he　said；　'_noblesse　oblige_；　don't　you　know；　what？'
　For　a　moment　Claire　did　not　speak。　Then　she　looked　at　her　watch　and　got　up。
　'I　must　be　going；'　she　said；　coldly。
　'But　you　haven't　had　your　coffee　yet。'
　'I　don't　want　any　coffee。'
　'What's　the　matter；　dear？'
　'Nothing　is　the　matter。　I　have　to　go　home　and　pack。　I'm　going　to　Southampton　this　afternoon。'
　She　began　to　move　towards　the　door。　Lord　Dawlish；　anxious　to　follow；　was　detained　by　the　fact　that　he　had　not　yet　paid　the　bill。　The　production　and　settling　of　this　took　time；　and　when　finally　he　turned　in　search　of　Claire　she　was　nowhere　visible。
　Bounding　upstairs　on　the　swift　feet　of　love；　he　reached　the　street。　She　had　gone。
　
　2
　A　grey　sadness　surged　over　Bill　Dawlish。　The　sun　hid　itself　behind　a　cloud；　the　sky　took　on　a　leaden　hue；　and　a　chill　wind　blew　through　the　world。　He　scanned　Shaftesbury　Avenue　with　a　jaundiced　eye；　and　thought　that　he　had　never　seen　a　beastlier　thoroughfare。　Piccadilly；　however；　into　which　he　shortly　dragged　himself；　was　even　worse。　It　was　full　of　men　and　women　and　other　depressing　things。
　He　pitied　himself　profoundly。　It　was　a　rotten　world　to　live　in；　this；　where　a　fellow　couldn't　say　_noblesse　oblige_　without　upsetting　the　universe。　Why　shouldn't　a　fellow　say　_noblesse　oblige？_　Why？　At　this　juncture　Lord　Dawlish　walked　into　a　lamp…post。
　The　shock　changed　his　mood。　Gloom　still　obsessed　him；　but　blended　now　with　remorse。　He　began　to　look　at　the　matter　from　Claire's　viewpoint；　and　his　pity　switched　from　himself　to　her。　In　the　first　place；　the　poor　girl　had　rather　a　rotten　time。　Could　she　be　blamed　for　wanting　him　to　make　money？　No。　Yet　whenever　she　made　suggestions　as　to　how　the　thing　was　to　be　done；　he　snubbed　her　by　saying　_noblesse　oblige_。　Naturally　a　refined　and　sensitive　young　girl　objected　to　having　things　like　_noblesse　oblige_　said　to　her。　Where　was　the　sense　in　saying　_noblesse　oblige？_　Such　a　confoundedly　silly　thing　to　say。　Only　a　perfect　ass　would　spend　his　time　rushing　about　the　place　saying　_noblesse　oblige_　to　people。
　'By　Jove！'　Lord　Dawlish　stopped　in　his　stride。　He　disentangled　himself　from　a　pedestrian　who　had　rammed　him　on　the　back。　'I'll　do　it！'
　He　hailed　a　passing　taxi　and　directed　the　driver　to　make　for　the　Pen　and　Ink　Club。
　The　decision　at　which　Bill　had　arrived　with　such　dramatic　suddenness　in　the　middle　of　Piccadilly　was　the　same　at　which　some　centuries　earlier　Columbus　had　arrived　in　the　privacy　of　his　home。
　'Hang　it！'　said　Bill　to　himself　in　the　cab；　'I'll　go　to　America！'　The　exact　words　probably　which　Columbus　had　used；　talking　the　thing　over　with　his　wife。
　Bill's　knowledge　of　the　great　republic　across　the　sea　was　at　this　period　of　his　life　a　little　sketchy。　He　knew　that　there　had　been　unpleasantness　between　England　and　the　United　States　in　seventeen…something　and　again　in　eighteen…something；　but　that　things　had　eventually　been　straightened　out　by　Miss　Edna　May　and　her　fellow　missionaries　of　the　Belle　of　New　York　pany；　since　which　time　there　had　been　no　more　trouble。　Of　American　cocktails　he　had　a　fair　working　knowledge；　and　he　appreciated　ragtime。　But　of　the　other　great　American　institutions　he　was　pletely　ignorant。
　He　was　on　his　way　now　to　see　Gates。　Gates　was　a　paratively　recent　addition　to　his　list　of　friends；　a　New　York　newspaperman　who　had　e　to　England　a　few　months　before　to　act　as　his　paper's　London　correspondent。　He　was　generally　to　be　found　at　the　Pen　and　Ink　Club；　an　institution　affiliated　with　the　New　York　Players；　of　which　he　was　a　member。
　Gates　was　in。　He　had　just　finished　lunch。
　'What's　the　trouble；　Bill？'　he　inquired；　when　he　had　deposited　his　lordship　in　a　corner　of　the　reading…room；　which　he　had　selected　because　silence　was　pulsory　there；　thus　rendering　it　possible　for　two　men　to　hear　each　other　speak。　'What　brings　you　charging　in　here　looking　like　the　Soul's　Awakening？'
　'I've　had　an　idea；　old　man。'
　'Proceed。　Continue。'
　'Oh！　Well；　you　remember　what　you　were　saying　about　America？'
　'What　was　I　saying　about　America？'
　'The　other　day；　don't　you　remember？　What　a　lot　of　money　there　was　to　be　made　there　and　so　forth。'
　'Well？'
　'I'm　going　there。'
　'To　America？'
　'Yes。'
　'To　make　money？'
　'Rather。'
　Gates　noddedsadly；　it　seemed　to　Bill。　He　was　rather　a　melancholy　young　man；　with　a　long　face　not　unlike　a　pessimistic　horse。
　'Gosh！'　he　said。
　Bill　felt　a　little　damped。　By　no　mental　juggling　could　he　construe　'Gosh！'　into　an　expression　of　enthusiastic　approbation。
　Gates　looked　at　Bill　curiously。　'What's　the　idea？'　he　said。　'I　could　have　understood　it　if　you　had　told　me　that　you　were　going　to　New　York　for　pleasure；　instructing　your　man　Willoughby　to　see　that　the　trunks　were　jolly　well　packed　and　wiring　to　the　skipper　of　your　yacht　to　meet　you　at　Liverpool。　But　you　seem　to　have　sordid　motives。　You　talk　about　making　money。　What　do　you　want　with　more　money？'
　'Why；　I'm　devilish　hard　up。'
　'Tenantry　a　bit　slack　with　the　rent？'　said　Gates