Chapter 15 fifteen

When I got home to London, I found waiting for me an urgent letter, ordering me to go to Mrs. Strickland as soon as supper was over.I also saw Colonel MacAndrew with his wife at her house.Mrs. Strickland's sister was a few years older than Mrs. Strickland's, and looked like her, only older.The woman had an air of shrewdness, as if she carried the whole of the British Empire in her pocket; the air which wives of high officials always wear when they know they belong to a superior class.Mrs. McAndrew was energetic and well-bred, but it was hard to hide her deep-rooted prejudice: if you are not a soldier, you are not as good as a small clerk at the counter.She hated the officers of the Guards, thinking that they were arrogant; she disdained to talk about the wives of these officials, thinking that they were of humble origin.Mrs. Colonel MacAndrew's clothes were not fashionable, but expensive.

Mrs. Strickland was visibly nervous. "Okay, tell us about your news," she said. "I saw your husband. I'm afraid he's made up his mind not to come back." I paused for a moment. "He wants to paint." "What did you say?" cried Mrs. Strickland, in complete amazement. "You don't know at all that he likes to draw?" "The man is just out of his mind," exclaimed the colonel. Mrs. Strickland frowned.She searched her memory painfully. "I remember he used to go around with a paint-box before we got married. But he made ugliest pictures. We used to tease him. He hadn't got a talent for that sort of thing."

"Of course not, it's just an excuse," Mrs McAndrew said. Mrs. Strickland pondered for a while longer.It was very clear that she did not understand at all the news I brought.This time she had tidied up the living room a little, so it was not as deserted as it was when I first came here after the accident, as if it was a furnished room waiting to be rented.But after my meeting with Strickland in Paris, it was difficult to imagine that he belonged to such surroundings.I don't think they were unaware of something queer about Strickland. "But if he wanted to be a painter, why didn't he tell me?" said Mrs. Strickland at last. "I think, for his -- this kind of aspiration, I will never be unsympathetic and supportive."

Mrs. McAndrew's lips clenched.I guess, her sister likes to make friends with the temperament of literati and artists, and she never approves of it.As soon as she mentioned the word "literature and art", she showed a look of contempt and disdain. Mrs. Strickland went on: "Anyway, if he had talent, I'd be the first to encourage him. I don't care about any sacrifice. I'd rather marry a painter than a stockbroker. If it wasn't for the children, I don't care about anything. I'd be as happy in a shabby studio in Chelsea as I am in this house." "My dear, I'm really going to be mad at you," cried Mrs. MacAndrew. "You mean, do you really believe this bullshit?"

"But I think that's the truth," I said mildly. She gave me an angry and funny look. "A man of forty doesn't give up his job, his wife and his children to be a painter, unless there's a woman in the mix. I guess he's met one of your—art-world friends." , fell in love with her." A sudden flush came over Mrs. Strickland's pale cheeks. "What is she like?" I didn't answer right away.I know I have a bomb ready for them. "No women." Colonel MacAndrew and his wife cried out in disbelief; Mrs. Strickland even jumped from her chair.

"You mean you never saw her once?" "There is no one at all. Who am I to see? There is only one person." "It's nothing in the world," exclaimed Mrs. McAndrew. "I knew I'd have to go out there myself," said the Colonel. "I'll bet you I'd be able to track that woman out right away." "I would like you to go yourself, too," I answered bluntly, "and you'll see that none of your conjectures are right. He's not staying in a fancy hotel. He's staying in a shabby room." little room. He never left home to live a life of luxury. He hardly had any money."

"Do you think he did something that we don't know about, and he was afraid that the police would trouble him, so he hid himself from the wind?" This hint gave everyone a gleam of hope, but I thought it was pure fantasy. "If that was the case, he wouldn't do the stupid thing of giving his address to his buddies," I retorted bitterly. "Anyway, there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of. Well, he didn't go away with anybody else. He wasn't in love with anybody. It didn't cross his mind at all." There was a pause in the conversation as they pondered what I had said.

"Well, if what you say is true," said Mrs. MacAndrew at last, "it's not as bad as I think it is." Mrs. Strickland glanced at her, but said nothing.Her face was now very pale, and her fine eyebrows were darkened and drooped downward.I couldn't understand the look on her face. "Why don't you go to him, Amy?" suggested the colonel. "You could live with him in Paris for a year. We'll take care of the baby. I dare say he'll get tired of it before long. Sooner or later he will." Will change my mind and prepare to come back to London. One storm will be over."

"If I don't," said Mrs. MacAndrew, "I'll let him do what he likes. One day he'll come home with his tail between his legs and live his comfortable life." , Mrs. McAndrew gave her sister a cool look. "You're living with him, maybe sometimes you're too unintelligent. Men are strange animals, and you should know how to handle them." Mrs. McAndrew has the same opinion as most women, thinking that men are heartless beasts who always want to abandon the women who love them, but once he really does this kind of thing, the more fault is On the woman's side.Feelings have reasons that reason simply cannot comprehend.

Mrs. Strickland's eyes moved idly from face to face. "He's never coming back," she said. "Oh, dear, remember what we've just heard. He's used to living comfortably and being looked after. You think he's in one of those shabby little hotels with shabby rooms How long can he stay here? Besides, he has no money. He will come back." "As long as he ran away with the same woman, I always thought there was a chance he'd come back. I don't believe it's anything like that. Within three months he'd hate her to death. But If he didn't run away because of love, everything would be over."

"Well, I think what you say is too mysterious," said the colonel, expressing all his contempt for this quality in the word "mysterious," which was beyond his professional tradition, "Don't believe it. He'll be back, and as Dorothy says, I don't think it'll do any harm to let him play around for a while." "But I don't want him back," she said. "Amy!" A fit of fury seized Mrs. Strickland suddenly, and her face was pale with rage.She spoke the following words very quickly, taking a breath every few words. "If he's madly in love with someone and runs away with her, I can forgive him. I'll think it's natural. I won't blame him too much. I'll think he was kidnapped. Man Soft-hearted, and a woman will do anything. But that's not the case now. I hate him. I'll never forgive him now." Colonel MacAndrew joined his wife to persuade her.They were surprised.They said she was crazy.They don't understand her.Mrs. Strickland came to me in a fit of desperation. "Do you see what I mean?" she cried. "I dare not say. You mean: if he leaves you for a woman, you can forgive him; if he leaves you for an ideal, you can't, right? You think you are the opponent of the former, But when compared with the latter, there is nothing you can do, isn't it?" Mrs. Strickland gave me a hard look, but said nothing.Maybe what I said hit her home.She went on in a low, trembling voice: "I've never hated a man as much as I hated him. You know, I've been reassuring myself that no matter how long this goes on, eventually he'll want me. I think he'll tell me to go to , I am also going. I will take care of him like a mother, and finally I will tell him that I don’t remember the past, I always love him, and I forgive him for everything he does.” I find it hard to bear the predilection of women to be magnanimous on the deathbed of their loved ones.Sometimes I even feel that they don't want men to live too long, because they are afraid of delaying the opportunity to perform this good show too late. "But now—now it's all over. I feel as nothing for him as for a passer-by. I wish he died poor, cold and hungry, with no one around. I wish he had Sores and rot. My relationship with him is over." I thought I might as well take the time to say Strickland's suggestion. "If you want to divorce him, he will be more than willing to give you any excuse you need for a divorce." "Why should I set him free?" "I don't think he needs that freedom. He just thinks it might be more convenient for you." Mrs. Strickland shrugged her shoulders impatiently.I think I'm a little disappointed in her.At that time, I was different from today. I always thought that people’s characters were pure and unified. When I found out that such a gentle and lovely woman had such a strong desire for revenge, I felt very frustrated.I didn't realize then that a person's personality is extremely complex.Today I have realized this: baseness and greatness, viciousness and kindness, hatred and love can exist in the same heart without mutual exclusion. I do not know if I can say anything to relieve some of the humiliation which was tormenting Mrs. Strickland at the time.I think I should give it a try anyway. "You know, I'm not sure if your husband's actions are his own responsibility. I don't think he is himself anymore. He seems to be caught by some kind of power and is being used to accomplish what it wants. The object of the chase. He was like a fly caught in a spider's web, and had lost the ability to struggle. He was caught as if by a spell. This reminds me of that strange story that people often tell: Another person's The spirit enters a man's body and drives his own out. The soul of man is very unstable in the body, and often undergoes mysterious changes. If in the past, people would say Charles Strickland De is possessed by the devil." Mrs. McAndrew straightened the hem of her dress, and the gold bracelet slid down her arm to her wrist. "I think what you're saying is a little strange," she said bitterly. "I don't deny that Ami may have been too indulgent with her husband. If she hadn't been so absorbed in her own business, I think she would have noticed. Strickland's behavior is a little strange. If Alek has something on his mind, I don't believe that I haven't seen it clearly after more than a year." The colonel stared blankly into the air, and I wondered who could look as open-minded and innocent as he. "But that doesn't change the fact that Charles Strickland is cruel." She looked at me with a serious face. "I can tell you why he ditched his wife - out of pure selfishness and for no other reason." "That's certainly the most acceptable explanation," I said.But I thought to myself: This is equivalent to explaining nothing.Finally, I said that I was a little tired, so I got up and said goodbye.Mrs. Strickland had no intention of keeping me sitting longer.