Read Online The Razor's Edge by W. Somerset Maugham - Free Book Online
Authors: W. Somerset Maugham
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asset as a writer is your common sense.'
'I can think of a quality that would be more valuable,' I answered dryly. 'Talent, for instance.'
'You know, I have no one to talk this over with. Mamma can only see things from her own point of view. She wants my future to be assured.'
'That's natural, isn't it?'
'And Uncle Elliott only looks at it from the social side. My own friends, those of my generation, I mean, think Larry's a washout. It hurts terribly.'
'Of course.'
'It's not that they're not nice to him. One can't help being nice to Larry. But they look upon him as a joke. They josh him a lot and it exasperates them that he doesn't seem to care. He only laughs. You know how things are at present?'
'I only know what Elliott has told me.'
'May I tell you exactly what happened when we went down to Marvin?'
'Of course.'
I have reconstructed Isabel's account partly from my recollection of what she then said to me and partly with the help of my imagination. But it was a long talk that she and Larry had, and I have no doubt that they said a great deal more than I now propose to relate. I suspect that as people do on these occasions they not only said much that was irrelevant, but said the same things over and over again.
When Isabel awoke and saw that it was a fine day she gave Larry a ring and, telling him that her mother wanted her to go to Marvin to do something for her, asked him to drive her down. She took the precaution to add a thermos of martinis to the thermos of coffee her mother had told Eugene to put in the basket. Larry's roadster was a recent acquisition and he was proud of it. He was a fast driver and the speed at which he went exhilarated them both. When they arrived, Isabel, with Larry to write down the figures, measured the curtains that were to be replaced. Then they set out the luncheon on the stoop. It was sheltered from any wind there was and the sun of the Indian summer was good to bask in. The house, on a dirt road, had none of the elegance of the old frame houses of New England, and the best you could say of it was that it was roomy and comfortable, but from the stoop you had a pleasing view of a great red barn with a black roof, a clump of old trees, and beyond them, as far as the eye could reach, brown fields. It was a dull landscape, but the sunshine and the glowing tints of the waning year gave it that day an intimate loveliness. There was an exhilaration in the great space that was spread before you. Cold, bleak, and dreary as it must have been in winter, dry, sunbaked, and oppressive as it may have been in the dog days, just then it was strangely exciting, for the vastness of the view invited the soul to adventure.
They enjoyed their lunch like the healthy young things they were and they were happy to be together. Isabel poured out the coffee and Larry lit his pipe.
'Now go right ahead, darling,' he said, with an amused smile in his eyes.
Isabel was taken aback.
'Go right ahead about what?' she asked with as innocent a look as she could assume.
He chuckled.
'Do you take me for a perfect fool, honey? If your mother didn't know perfectly well the measurements of the living-room windows I'll eat my hat. That isn't why you asked me to drive you down here.'
Recovering her self-assurance, she gave him a brilliant smile.
'It might be that I thought it would be nice if we spent a day together by ourselves.'
'It might be, but I don't think, it is. My guess is that Uncle Elliott has told you that I've turned down Henry Maturin's offer.'
He spoke gaily and lightly and she found it convenient to continue in the same tone.
'Gray must be terribly disappointed. He thought it would be grand to have you in the office. You must get down to work some time, and the longer you leave it the harder it'll be.'
He puffed at his pipe and looked at her, tenderly smiling, so that she could not tell if he was serious or not.
'Do you know, I've got an idea that I want to do more with my life than sell
'I can think of a quality that would be more valuable,' I answered dryly. 'Talent, for instance.'
'You know, I have no one to talk this over with. Mamma can only see things from her own point of view. She wants my future to be assured.'
'That's natural, isn't it?'
'And Uncle Elliott only looks at it from the social side. My own friends, those of my generation, I mean, think Larry's a washout. It hurts terribly.'
'Of course.'
'It's not that they're not nice to him. One can't help being nice to Larry. But they look upon him as a joke. They josh him a lot and it exasperates them that he doesn't seem to care. He only laughs. You know how things are at present?'
'I only know what Elliott has told me.'
'May I tell you exactly what happened when we went down to Marvin?'
'Of course.'
I have reconstructed Isabel's account partly from my recollection of what she then said to me and partly with the help of my imagination. But it was a long talk that she and Larry had, and I have no doubt that they said a great deal more than I now propose to relate. I suspect that as people do on these occasions they not only said much that was irrelevant, but said the same things over and over again.
When Isabel awoke and saw that it was a fine day she gave Larry a ring and, telling him that her mother wanted her to go to Marvin to do something for her, asked him to drive her down. She took the precaution to add a thermos of martinis to the thermos of coffee her mother had told Eugene to put in the basket. Larry's roadster was a recent acquisition and he was proud of it. He was a fast driver and the speed at which he went exhilarated them both. When they arrived, Isabel, with Larry to write down the figures, measured the curtains that were to be replaced. Then they set out the luncheon on the stoop. It was sheltered from any wind there was and the sun of the Indian summer was good to bask in. The house, on a dirt road, had none of the elegance of the old frame houses of New England, and the best you could say of it was that it was roomy and comfortable, but from the stoop you had a pleasing view of a great red barn with a black roof, a clump of old trees, and beyond them, as far as the eye could reach, brown fields. It was a dull landscape, but the sunshine and the glowing tints of the waning year gave it that day an intimate loveliness. There was an exhilaration in the great space that was spread before you. Cold, bleak, and dreary as it must have been in winter, dry, sunbaked, and oppressive as it may have been in the dog days, just then it was strangely exciting, for the vastness of the view invited the soul to adventure.
They enjoyed their lunch like the healthy young things they were and they were happy to be together. Isabel poured out the coffee and Larry lit his pipe.
'Now go right ahead, darling,' he said, with an amused smile in his eyes.
Isabel was taken aback.
'Go right ahead about what?' she asked with as innocent a look as she could assume.
He chuckled.
'Do you take me for a perfect fool, honey? If your mother didn't know perfectly well the measurements of the living-room windows I'll eat my hat. That isn't why you asked me to drive you down here.'
Recovering her self-assurance, she gave him a brilliant smile.
'It might be that I thought it would be nice if we spent a day together by ourselves.'
'It might be, but I don't think, it is. My guess is that Uncle Elliott has told you that I've turned down Henry Maturin's offer.'
He spoke gaily and lightly and she found it convenient to continue in the same tone.
'Gray must be terribly disappointed. He thought it would be grand to have you in the office. You must get down to work some time, and the longer you leave it the harder it'll be.'
He puffed at his pipe and looked at her, tenderly smiling, so that she could not tell if he was serious or not.
'Do you know, I've got an idea that I want to do more with my life than sell
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