The Moon and Sixpence

Chapter XL
F
OR
THE
NEXT
MONTH
, occupied with my own affairs,
I saw no one connected with this lamentable
business, and my mind ceased to be occupied
with it. But one day, when I was walking along,
bent on some errand, I passed Charles Strickland.
The sight of him brought back to me all the hor-
ror which I was not unwilling to forget, and I
felt in me a sudden repulsion for the cause of it.
Nodding, for it would have been childish to cut
him, I walked on quickly; but in a minute I felt a
hand on my shoulder.
“ You’re in a great hurry,” he said cordially.
It was characteristic of him to display genial-
ity with anyone who showed a disinclination to
meet him, and the coolness of my greeting can
have left him in little doubt of that.
“I am,” I answered briefly.
“I’ll walk along with you,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.

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“For the pleasure of your society. ”
I did not answer, and he walked by my side
silently. We continued thus for perhaps a quar-
ter of a mile. I began to feel a little ridiculous. At
last we passed a stationer’s, and it occurred to
me that I might as well buy some paper. It would
be an excuse to be rid of him.
“I’m going in here,” I said. “Good-bye.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
I shrugged my shoulders, and went into the
shop. I reflected that French paper was bad, and
that, foiled of my purpose, I need not burden
myself with a purchase that I did not need. I
asked for something I knew could not be pro-
vided, and in a minute came out into the street.
“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked.
“ N o . ”
We walked on in silence, and then came to a
place where several streets met. I stopped at the
curb.
“Which way do you go?” I enquired.
“ Your way,” he smiled.
“I’m going home.”
“I’ll come along with you and smoke a pipe.”
“ You might wait for an invitation,” I retorted
frigidly.
“I would if I thought there was any chance of
getting one.”
“Do you see that wall in front of you?” I said,
pointing.
“ Yes.”
“In that case I should have thought you could
see also that I don’t want your company. ”
“I vaguely suspected it, I confess.”
I could not help a chuckle. It is one of the de-
fects of my character that I cannot altogether
dislike anyone who makes me laugh. But I pulled
myself together.
“I think you’re detestable. You’re the most
loathsome beast that it’s ever been my misfor-
tune to meet. Why do you seek the society of
someone who hates and despises you?”

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151
Somerset Maugham
“My dear fellow, what the hell do you suppose
I care what you think of me?”
“Damn it all,” I said, more violently because I
had an inkling my motive was none too credit-
able, “I don’t want to know you.”
“Are you afraid I shall corrupt you?”
His tone made me feel not a little ridiculous. I
knew that he was looking at me sideways, with
a sardonic smile.
“I suppose you are hard up,” I remarked inso-
lently.
“I should be a damned fool if I thought I had
any chance of borrowing money from you.”
“ You’ve come down in the world if you can
bring yourself to flatter. ”
He grinned.
“ You’ll never really dislike me so long as I give
you the opportunity to get off a good thing now
and then.”
I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from
laughing. What he said had a hateful truth in it,
and another defect of my character is that I en-
joy the company of those, however depraved,
who can give me a Roland for my Oliver. I began
to feel that my abhorrence for Strickland could
only be sustained by an effort on my part. I
recognised my moral weakness, but saw that my
disapprobation had in it already something of a
pose; and I knew that if I felt it, his own keen
instinct had discovered it, too. He was certainly
laughing at me up his sleeve. I left him the last
word, and sought refuge in a shrug of the shoul-
ders and taciturnity.

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The Moon and Sixpence