At Lady Molly's - Anthony Powell [91]
The Jeavonses’guests habitually flowed into every room in the house, so that to retire to talk, for example in Molly’s bedroom, or Jeavons’s dressing-room, would be considered not at all unusual. We moved, in fact, a short way up the stairs into a kind of boudoir of Molly’s, constricted in space and likely to attract only people who wanted to enjoy a heart-to-heart talk together: a place chiefly given over to cats, two or three of which sat in an ill-humoured group at angles to one another, stirring with disapproval at this invasion of their privacy. I had no idea what the General could wish to say, even speculating for an instant as to whether he was about to offer some piece of advice—too confidential and esoteric to risk being overheard—regarding the conduct of married life. The period of engagement is one when you are at the mercy of all who wish to proffer counsel, and experience already prepared me for the worst. The truth turned out to be more surprising.
As soon as we were alone together, the General sat down on a chair in front of the writing-table, straightening out his leg painfully. It still seemed to be giving trouble. Alone with him, I became aware of that terrible separateness which difference of age imposes between individuals. Perhaps feeling something of this burden himself, he began at first to speak of his own advancing years.
‘I’m beginning to find all this standing about at Buck House a bit of a strain,’ he said. ‘Not so young as I was. Dropped my eyeglass not so long ago in one of the anterooms at St. James’s and had to get a fellow who was standing beside me to pick it up for me. Secretary from the Soviet Embassy. Perfectly civil. Just couldn’t get down that far myself. Afraid I’d drop my axe too, if I tried. Still, although I’m getting on in life, I’ve had a good run for my money. Seen some odd things at one time or another.’
He moved his leg again, and groaned a bit. I always had the impression that he liked talking about his appearances at Court.
‘I’m a great believer in people knowing the truth,’ he said. ‘Always have been.’
Without seeing at all clearly where this maxim would lead us, I agreed that truth was best.
‘Something happened the other day,’ said the General, ‘that struck me as interesting. Damned interesting. Got on my mind a bit, especially as I had been reading about that kind of thing. Odd coincidence, I mean. The fact is, you are the only fellow I can tell.’
By that time I began to feel even a little uneasy, having no idea at all what might be coming next.
‘When you came to tea with us not so long ago, I told you I had been reading about this business of psychoanalysis. Don’t tie myself down to Freud. Jung has got some interesting stuff too. No point in an amateur like myself being dogmatic about something he knows little or nothing about. Just make a fool of yourself. Don’t you agree?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Well, a rather interesting illustration of some of the points I’d been reading about happened to come my way the other day. Care to hear about it?’
‘I should like to very much indeed.’
‘In connexion with this fellow you say you were at school with—this fellow Widmerpool—who wanted to marry my sister-in-law, Mildred.’
‘I hear the engagement is off.’
‘You knew that already?’
‘I was told so the other day.’
‘Common knowledge, is it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Know why it’s off?’
‘No. But I wasn’t altogether surprised.’
‘Nor was I, but it is an odd story. Not to be repeated, of course. Happened during their stay at Dogdene. Perhaps you’ve heard about that too?’
‘I knew they were going to Dogdene.’
‘Ever stopped there yourself?’
‘No. I’ve never met either of the Sleafords.’
‘I was once able to do Geoffrey Sleaford a good turn in South Africa,’ said the General. ‘He was A.D.C. to the Divisional Commander, and a more bone-headed fellow I never came across. Sleaford—or Fines, as he was then—had landed in a mess over some mislaid papers. I got him out of it. He is a stupid fellow, but always grateful. Made a point of trying out our poodle dogs at his shoots. Then Bertha knew Alice Sleaford as a girl. Went to the same dancing class. Bertha never much cared for her. Still, they get on all right now. Long and the short of it is that we stop at Dogdene from time to time. Uncomfortable place nowadays. Those parterres are very fine, of course. Alice Sleaford takes an interest in the garden. Wonderful fruit in the hot-houses. Then there is the Veronese. Geoffrey Sleaford has been advised to have it cleaned, but won