A. V. Laider by Sir Max Beerbohm

Origianl URL
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/761
Category
gutenberg.org
Summary
It made no other pretension. It was very cozy indeed. And now I had returned, after an attack of influenza. What little there was I did. I looked at the barometer, tapped it, was not the wiser. I do not know. Ha, ha, ha! There are three sheets, closely written, in ME. She was delicate, and the air suited her. She was poor, and the tariff was just within her means. She was lonely, and had need of love. He was rich, he was charming, he was in the prime of life. I was very sure she would wear me and my contents next to her bosom. She was gone. It was mine. I stared, I wondered. "I don't know who you are, but, whoever you are, claim me, take me out of this!" He was enigmatic. We managed, as a rule, to observe each other indirectly. I found him very sympathetic. That was all. It was a crisis. It was a crisis. We faced it like men. But this, of course, was a vain counsel of perfection. he tried bravely to imply that he was sorry, even now, to hear that. In a way, perhaps, he really was sorry. Nay, we seemed to be hitting it off even now. Influenza was not our sole theme. "Palmistry, for example," I said. I hesitated. "Yes, somehow I do. My common sense utterly rejects it. "I've a grotesque belief in it, yes." "Well," I said, with the thrilling hope that he was a companion in absurdity, "doesn't it seem grotesque to you?" "It seems strange." "Oh, absolutely." Laider did not answer this question; he did but annoyingly ask me another. "Yes, of course. "Oh, no. This rather cornered me. "Ah, I've no doubt it is." I held out my palms. There was agitation in his voice as he explained that he never looked at people's hands now. "Never now--never again." He shook his head as though to beat off some memory. "_I_ am." "I don't know," he exclaimed, "why I said it. No." Morally, I am." He looked at the clock. He said I was very kind. I denied this. I said, "Never mind." I was able to go my own desultory way, riding my hobbies where I would. Palmistry was one of them. It seemed to me absurd, as it seems to you. Like you, though, I believed in it. There was a clean break in the life-line, and a square joining it--the protective square, you know. That is what bothered me. There was a faint line connecting the break in the lifeline with a star on the line of health. I was one of the victims of private means. "If a railway-journey could be avoided, I avoided it. I was very fond of him and of his wife. He was in the Indian Civil, and was home on leave. Forty-three, yes. Laider looked at me. Not later, not possibly LATER, than forty-three. She was twenty-four, you know. I went on talking. The coincidence was curious, very. Oh, there was an inference to be drawn. Not a sure inference, I told myself. It was a fast train. I was talking loudly. They would be apart. Therefore-- "And the marks were there. There was a thing for me to do. You explain to the guard. Some of THEM I could have done, I dare say. This thing I was going to do. Oh, I was determined that I would do it--directly. I was quite at liberty. I was determined, yes. "We were near the outskirts of London. And when I said so, I was told not to talk. I was in bed, and the nurses were always telling me not to talk. I was in a hospital. I was feeling much better now. So it was in my case. I remembered, in a flash, everything. I was quite calm, though. You see, there was no need to ask. I remember the frightened look of my uncle's face, and the nurse scolding him in whispers. "After that, all a blur. "However, I live." There was a long silence. Laider did not look at me, nor I at him. The fire was burning low, and he watched it. Naturally. I despise myself." "No, I don't despise you; but--" "You blame me." I did not meet his gaze. "You blame me," he repeated. "Yes." "And there, if I may say so, you are a little unjust. "Yes." He looked at the palms of his hands. "It was foreordained." "Horribly positive. "Oh, yes. There was a pause. "Well," I said, with awkward sympathy, "I suppose all hands are the hands of people destined to suffer." Assuredly, here was a bright loophole. I remembered my promise to rescue it. There was no one in the hall. But I was not to be diverted from my purpose. He had. Oh weak, weak! "Influenza, of course?" we asked simultaneously. I wondered that he didn't break off and thank me now for my letter. "You make me feel very guilty." "I know, yes. "In a way," he said, "your theory was quite right. They weren't there. _I_ wasn't there. I, too, prodded the sand. "Well," I said at length, "I do feel rather a fool." It was your kindness, you see, that forced me. "I'm sorry. "No, of course not. a very strong imagination. I come here usually. You said you believed in it. I wondered at that. "Oh, no. He shook his head. My eyes beamed. "Not of your ability, surely?" "You are too stern a critic, believe me." As it is, I refuse to let you associate with me. I frowned at this possibility. However, I was to find reassurance. We did so very pleasantly. "Yes. "Surely." "Well, perhaps they are, yes; I suppose they are.