pgw.uneasymoney-第12章
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himself。 From some conning…tower in this fourth dimension he perceived himself eating broiled lobster and drinking champagne and heard himself bearing an adequate part in the conversation； but his movements were largely automatic。
Time passed。 It seemed to Lord Dawlish； watching from without； that things were livening up。 He seemed to perceive a quickening of the _tempo_ of the revels； an added abandon。 Nutty was getting quite bright。 He had the air of one who recalls the good old days； of one who in familiar scenes re…enacts the joys of his vanished youth。 The chastened melancholy induced by many months of fetching of pails of water； of scrubbing floors with a mop； and of jumping like a firecracker to avoid excited bees had been purged from him by the lights and the music and the wine。 He was telling a long anecdote； laughing at it； throwing a crust of bread at an adjacent waiter； and refilling his glass at the same time。 It is not easy to do all these things simultaneously； and the fact that Nutty did them with notable success was proof that he was picking up。
Miss Daisy Leonard was still demure； bat as she had just slipped a piece of ice down the back of Nutty's neck one may assume that she was feeling at her ease and had overe any diffidence or shyness which might have interfered with her plete enjoyment of the festivities。 As for the Good Sport； she was larger； blonder； and more exuberant than ever and she was addressing someone as 'Bill'。
Perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon of the evening； as it advanced； was the change it wrought in Lord Dawlish's attitude toward this same Good Sport。 He was not conscious of the beginning of the change； he awoke to the realization of it suddenly。 At the beginning of supper his views on her had been definite and clear。 When they had first been introduced to each other he had had a stunned feeling that this sort of thing ought not to be allowed at large； and his battered brain had instinctively recalled that line of Tennyson： 'The curse is e upon me。' But now； warmed with food and drink and smoking an excellent cigar； he found that a gentler； more charitable mood had descended upon him。
He argued with himself in extenuation of the girl's peculiar idiosyncrasies。 Was it； he asked himself； altogether her fault that she was so massive and spoke as if she were addressing an open…air meeting in a strong gale？ Perhaps it was hereditary。 Perhaps her father had been a circus giant and her mother the strong woman of the troupe。 And for the unrestraint of her manner defective training in early girlhood would account。 He began to regard her with a quiet； kindly miseration； which in its turn changed into a sort of brotherly affection。 He discovered that he liked her。 He liked her very much。 She was so big and jolly and robust； and spoke in such a clear； full voice。 He was glad that she was patting his hand。 He was glad that he had asked her to call him Bill。
People were dancing now。 It has been claimed by patriots that American dyspeptics lead the world。 This supremacy； though partly due； no doubt； to vast supplies of pie absorbed in youth； may be attributed to a certain extent also to the national habit of dancing during meals。 Lord Dawlish had that sturdy reverence for his interior organism which is the birthright of every Briton。 And at the beginning of supper he had resolved that nothing should induce him to court disaster in this fashion。 But as the time went on he began to waver。
The situation was awkward。 Nutty and Miss Leonard were repeatedly leaving the table to tread the measure； and on these occasions the Good Sport's wistfulness was a haunting reproach。 Nor was the spectacle of Nutty in action without its effect on Bill's resolution。 Nutty dancing was a sight to stir the most stolid。
Bill wavered。 The music had started again now； one of those twentieth…century eruptions of sound that begin like a train going through a tunnel and continue like audible electric shocks； that set the feet tapping beneath the table and the spine thrilling with an unaccustomed exhilaration。 Every drop of blood in his body cried to him 'Dance！' He could resist no longer。
'Shall we？' he said。
Bill should not have danced。 He was an estimable young man； honest； amiable； with high ideals。 He had played an excellent game of football at the university； his golf handicap was plus two； and he was no mean performer with the gloves。 But we all of us have our limitations； and Bill had his。 He was not a good dancer。 He was energetic； but he required more elbow room than the ordinary dancing floor provides。 As a dancer； in fact； he closely resembled a Newfoundland puppy trying to run across a field。
It takes a good deal to daunt the New York dancing man； but the invasion of the floor by Bill and the Good Sport undoubtedly caused a profound and even painful sensation。 Linked together they formed a living projectile which might well have intimidated the bravest。 Nutty was their first victim。 They caught him in mid…stepone of those fancy steps which he was just beginning to exhume from the cobwebbed recesses of his memoryand swept him away。 After which they descended resistlessly upon a stout gentleman of middle age； chiefly conspicuous for the glittering diamonds which he wore and the stoical manner in which he danced to and fro on one spot of not more than a few inches in size in the exact centre of the room。 He had apparently staked out a claim to this small spot； a claim which the other dancers had decided to respect； but Bill and the Good Sport； ing up from behind； had him two yards away from it at the first impact。 Then； scattering apologies broadcast like a medieval monarch distributing largesse； Bill whirled his partner round by sheer muscular force and began what he intended to be a movement toward the farther corner； skirting the edge of the floor。 It was his simple belief that there was more safety there than in the middle。
He had not reckoned with Heinrich Joerg。 Indeed； he was not aware of Heinrich Joerg's existence。 Yet fate was shortly to bring them together； with far…reaching results。 Heinrich Joerg had left the Fatherland a good many years before with the prudent purpose of escaping military service。 After various vicissitudes in the land of his adoptionwhich it would be extremely interesting to relate； but which must wait for a more favourable opportunityhe had secured a useful and not ill…repensed situation as one of the staff of Reigelheimer's Restaurant。 He was； in point of fact； a waiter； and he es into the story at this point bearing a tray full of glasses； knives； forks； and pats of butter on little plates。 He was setting a table for some new arrivals； and in order to obtain more scope for that task he had left the crowded aisle beyond the table and e round to the edge of the dancing…floor。
He should not have e out on to the dancing…floor。 In another moment he was admitting that himself。 For just as he was lowering his tray and bending over the table in the pursuance of his professional duties； along came Bill at his customary high rate of speed； propelling his partner before him； and for the first time since he left home Heinrich was conscious of a regret that he had done so。 There are worse things than military service！
It was the table that saved Bill。 He clutched at it and it supported him。 He was thus enabled to keep the Good Sport from falling and to assist Heinrich to rise from the morass of glasses； knives； and pats of butter in which he was wallowing。 Then； the dance having been abandoned by mutual consent； he helped his now somewhat hysterical partner back to their table。
Remorse came upon Bill。 He was sorry that he had danced； sorry that he had upset Heinrich； sorry that he had subjected the Good Sport's nervous system to such a strain； sorry that so much glass had been broken and so many pats of butter bruised beyond repair。 But of one thing； even in that moment of bleak regrets； he was distinctly glad； and that was that all these things had taken place three thousand miles away from Claire Fenwick。 He had not been appearing at his best； and he was glad that Claire had not seen him。
As he sat and smoked the remains of his cigar； while renewing his apolo
