ÌR. PETE was in a state of the liveliest exasperation. He had been in
the consular service for more than twenty years and he had had to deal
with all manner of vexatious people, officials who would not listen to
reason, merchants who took the British Government for a debt-collecting
agency, missionaries who resented as gross injustice any attempt at fair
play; but he never recollected a case which had left him more
completely it a loss. He was a mild-mannered man, but for no reason he
flew into a passion with his writer and he very nearly sacked the
Eurasian clerk because he had wrongly spelt two words in a letter placed
before him for his official signature. He was a conscientious man and
he could not persuade himself to leave his office before the clock
struck four; the moment it did he jumped up and called for his hat and
stick. Because his boy did not bring them at once he abused him
roundly. They say that the consuls all grow a little odd; and the
merchants who can live for thirty-five years in China without learning
enough of the language to ask their way in the street say that it is
because they have to study Chinese; and there was no doubt that Mr. Pete
was decidedly odd. He was a bachelor and on that account had been sent
to a series of posts which by reason of their isolation were thought
unsuited to married men. He had lived so much alone that his natural
tendency to eccentricity had developed to an extravagant degree, and he
had habits which surprised the stranger. He was very absent-minded. He
paid no attention to his house, which was always in great disorder, nor
to his food; his boys gave him to eat what they liked and for
everything he had made him pay through the nose. He was untiring in his
efforts to suppress the opium traffic, but he was the only person in
the city who did not know that his servants kept opium in the consulate
itself, and a busy traffic in the drug was openly conducted at the back
door of the compound. He was an ardent collector and the house provided
for him by the government was filled with the various things which he
had collected one after the other, pewter, brass, carved wood; these
were his more legitimate enterprises; but he also collected stamps,
birds' eggs, hotel labels, and postmarks: he boasted that he had a
collection of postmarks which was unequalled in the Empire. During his
long sojourning in lonely places he had read a great deal, and though
he was no sinologue he had a greater knowledge of China, its history,
literature, and people, than most of his colleagues; but from his wide
reading he had acquired not toleration but vanity. He was a man of a
singular appearance. His body was small and frail and when he walked he
gave you the idea of a dead leaf dancing before the wind; and then
there was something extraordinarily odd in the small Tyrolese hat, with
a cock's feather in it, very old and shabby, which he wore perched
rakishly on the side of his large head. He was exceedingly bald. You
saw that his eyes, blue and pale, were weak behind the spectacles, and
a drooping, ragged, dingy moustache did not hide the peevishness of his
mouth. And now, turning out of the street in which was the consulate,
he made his way on to the city wall, for there only in the
multitudinous city was it possible to walk with comfort.
He was a man who took his work hardly, worrying himself to death over
every trifle, but as a rule a walk on the wall soothed and rested him.
The city stood in the midst of a great plain and often at sundown from
the wall you could see in the distance the snow-capped mountains, the
mountains of Tibet; but now he walked quickly, looking neither to the
right nor to the left, and his fat spaniel frisked about him unobserved.
He talked to himself rapidly in a low monotone. The cause of his
irritation was a visit that he had that day received from a lady who
called herself Mrs. Yu and whom he with a consular passion for
precision insisted on calling Miss Lambert. This in itself sufficed to
deprive their intercourse of amenity. She was an Englishwoman married to
a Chinese. She had arrived two years before with her husband from
England, where he had been studying at the University of London; he had
made her believe that he was a great personage in his own country and
she had imagined herself to be coming to a gorgeous palace and a
position of consequence. It was a bitter surprise when she found herself
brought to a shabby Chinese house crowded with people: there was not
even a foreign bed in it, nor a knife and fork: everything seemed to
her very dirty and smelly. It was a shock to find that she had to live
with her husband's father and mother and he told her that she must do
exactly what his mother bade her; but in her complete ignorance of
Chinese it was not till she had been two or three days in the house
that she realized that she was not her husband's only wife. He had been
married as a boy before he left his native city to acquire the
knowledge of the barbarians. When she bitterly upbraided him for
deceiving her he shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing to prevent a
Chinese from having two wives if he wanted them and, he added with some
disregard to truth, no Chinese woman looked upon :t as a hardship. It
was upon making this discovery :hat she paid her first visit to the
consul. He had already heard of her arrival — in China everyone knows
everything about everyone — and he received her without surprise. Nor
had he much sympathy to show her. That a foreign woman should marry a
Chinese at all filled him with indignation, out that she should do so
without making proper inquiries vexed him like a personal affront. She
was not at all the sort of woman whose appearance led you to imagine
that she would be guilty of such a folly. She was a solid, thick-set,
young person, short, plain, and matter-of-fact. She was cheaply dressed
in a tailor-made suit and she wore a tam-o'-shanter. She had bad teeth
and a muddy skin. Her hands were large and red and ill-cared-for. You
could tell that she was not unused to hard work. She spoke English with
a cockney whine.
'How did you meet Mr. Yu?' asked the consul frigidly.
'Well, you see, it's like this,' she answered. 'Dad was in a very good
position, and when he died mother said: "Well, it seems a sinful waste
to keep all these rooms empty, I'll put a card in the window." '
The consul interrupted her.
'He had lodgings with you?'
'Well, they weren't exactly lodgings,' she said.
'Shall we say apartments then?' replied the consul, with his thin,
slightly Vain smile.
That was generally the explanation of these marriages. Then because he
thought her a very foolish vulgar woman he explained bluntly that
according to English law she was not married to Yu and that the best
thing she could do was to go back to England at once. She began to cry
and his heart softened a little to her. He promised to put her in charge
of some missionary ladies who would look after her on the long journey,
and indeed, if she liked, he would see if meanwhile she could not live
in one of the missions. But while he talked Miss Lambert dried her
'What's the good of going back to England?' she said at last. I’aven't
got nowhere to go to.'
'You can go to your mother.'
'She was all against my marrying Mr. Yu. I should never hear the last
of it if I was to go back now.'
The consul began to argue with her, but the more he argued the more
determined she became, and at last he lost his temper.
'If you like to stay here with a man who isn't your husband it's your
own look-out, but I wash my hands of all responsibility.'
Her retort had often rankled.
'Then you've got no cause to worry,' she said, and the look on her face
returned to him whenever he thought of her.
That was two years ago and he had seen her once or twice since then. It
appeared that she got on very badly both with her mother-in-law and with
her husband's other wife, and she had come to the consul with
preposterous questions about her rights according to Chinese law. He
repeated his offer to get her away, but she remained steadfast in her
refusal to go, and their interview always ended in the consul's flying
into a passion. He was almost inclined to pity the rascally Yu who had
to keep the peace between three warring women. According to his English
wife's account he was not unkind to her. He tried to act fairly by both
his wives. Miss Lambert did not improve. The consul knew that ordinarily
she wore Chinese clothes, but when she came to see him she put on
She was become extremely blowsy. Her health suffered from the Chinese
food she ate and she was beginning to look wretchedly ill. But really he
was shocked when she had been shown into his office that day. She wore
no hat and her hair was dishevelled. She was in a highly hysterical
'They're trying to poison me,' she screamed and she put before him a
bowl of some foul-smelling food. 'It's poisoned,' she said. 'I've been
ill for the last ten days, it's only by a miracle I've escaped.'
She gave him a long story, circumstantial and probable enough, enough
to convince him: after all, nothing was more likely than that the
Chinese women should use familiar methods to get rid of an intruder who
was hateful to them.
'Do they know you've come here?'
'Of course they do; I told them I was going to show them up.'
Now at last was the moment for decisive action. The consul looked at
her in his most official manner.
'Well, you must never go back there. I refuse to put up with your
nonsense any longer. I insist on your leaving this man who isn't your
But he found himself helpless against the woman's insane obstinacy. He
repeated all the arguments he had used so often, but she would not
listen, and as usual he lost his temper. It was then, in answer to his
final, desperate question, that she had made the remark which had
entirely robbed him of his calm.
'But what on earth makes you stay with the man?' he cried.
She hesitated for a moment and a curious look came into her eyes.
'There's something in the way his hair grows on his forehead that I
can't help liking,' she answered.
The consul had never heard anything so outrageous. It really was the
last straw. And now while he strode along, trying to walk off his anger,
though he was not a man who often used bad language he really could not
restrain himself, and he said fiercely: 'Women are simply bloody.'
Âçÿòî èç ñáîðíèêà "W.Somerset Maugham, Selected Short Stories",