第18章

“Whenyoudoyou’llhavetobuymeanewpairofgloves。”shesaid，“anyhow。Thatfinger’spastmending。Look！youCabbage——you。”Andsheheldthesplitunderhisnose，andpulledafaceofcomicalfierceness。

Myunclesmiledatthesesalliesatthetime，butafterwards，whenIwentbackwithhimtothePharmacy——thelow-classbusinessgrewbriskerintheeveningandtheykeptopenlate——herevertedtoitinalowexpositorytone。“Youraunt’sabitimpatient，George。Shegetsatme。It’sonlynatural。Awomandoesn’tunderstandhowlongittakestobuildupaposition。No。Incertaindirectionsnow——Iam——quietly——buildingupaposition。

Nowhere。Igetthisroom。Ihavemythreeassistants。Zzzz。

It’sapositionthat，judgedbythecriterionofimeedjitincome，isn’tperhapssogoodasIdeserve，butstrategically——yes。It’swhatIwant。Imakemyplans。Irallymyattack。”

“Whatplans。”Isaid，“areyoumaking？”

“Well，George，there’sonethingyoucanrelyupon，I’mdoingnothinginahurry。Iturnoverthisoneandthat，andIdon’ttalk——indiscreetly。There’s——No！Idon’tthinkIcantellyouthat。Andyet，whyNOT？”

Hegotupandclosedthedoorintotheshop。“I’vetoldnoone。”

heremarked，ashesatdownagain。“Ioweyousomething。”

Hisfaceflushedslightly，heleantforwardoverthelittletabletowardsme。

“Listen！”hesaid。

Ilistened。

“Tono-Bungay。”saidmyuncleveryslowlyanddistinctly。

Ithoughthewasaskingmetohearsomeremote，strangenoise。

“Idon’thearanything。”Isaidreluctantlytohisexpectantface。Hesmiledundefeated。“Tryagain。”hesaid，andrepeated，“Tono-Bungay。”

“Oh，THAT！”Isaid。

“Eh？”saidhe。

“Butwhatisit？”

“Ah！”saidmyuncle，rejoicingandexpanding。“WhatISit？

That’swhatyougottoask？Whatwon’titbe？”Hedugmeviolentlyinwhathesupposedtobemyribs。“George。”hecried——“George，watchthisplace！There’smoretofollow。”

AndthatwasallIcouldgetfromhim。

That，Ibelieve，wastheveryfirsttimethatthewordsTono-Bungayeverheardonearth——unlessmyuncleindulgedinmonologuesinhischamber——ahighlyprobablething。Itsutterancecertainlydidnotseemtomeatthetimetomarkanysortofepoch，andhadIbeentoldthiswordwastheOpenSesametowhateverprideandpleasurethegrimyfrontofLondonhidfromusthatevening，Ishouldhavelaughedaloud。

“Comingnowtobusiness。”Isaidafterapause，andwithachillsenseofeffort；andIopenedthequestionofhistrust。

Myunclesighed，andleantbackinhischair。“IwishIcouldmakeallthisbusinessascleartoyouasitistome。”hesaid。

“However——Goon！Saywhatyouhavetosay。”

AfterIleftmyunclethateveningIgavewaytoafeelingofprofounddepression。Myuncleandauntseemedtometobeleading——Ihavealreadyusedthewordtoooften，butImustuseitagain——DINGYlives。Theyseemedtobeadriftinalimitlesscrowdofdingypeople，wearingshabbyclothes，livinguncomfortablyinshabbysecond-handhouses，goingtoandfroonpavementsthathadalwaysathinveneerofgreasy，slipperymud，undergreyskiesthatshowednogleamofhopeofanythingforthembutdinginessuntiltheydied。Itseemedabsolutelycleartomethatmymother’slittlesavingshadbeenswallowedupandthatmyownprospectwasalltoocertainlytodropintoandbeswallowedupmyselfsoonerorlaterbythisdingyLondonocean。

TheLondonthatwastobeanadventurousescapefromtheslumberofWimblehurst，hadvanishedfrommydreams。IsawmyunclepointingtothehousesinParkLaneandshowingafrayedshirt-cuffashedidso。Iheardmyaunt：“I’mtorideinmycarriagethen。Soheoldsays。”

Myfeelingstowardsmyunclewereextraordinarilymixed。IwasintenselysorrynotonlyformyauntSusanbutforhim——foritseemedindisputablethatastheywerelivingthensotheymustgoon——andatthesametimeIwasangrywiththegarrulousvanityandillnessthathadelippedallmychanceofindependentstudy，andimprisonedherinthosegreyapartments。WhenIgotbacktoWimblehurstIallowedmyselftowritehimaboyishlysarcasticandsincerelybitterletter。Heneverreplied。Then，believingittobetheonlywayofescapeforme，IsetmyselffarmoregrimlyandresolutelytomystudiesthanIhadeverdonebefore。

AfteratimeIwrotetohiminmoremoderateterms，andheansweredmeevasively。AndthenItriedtodismisshimfrommymindandwentonworking。

Yes，thatfirstraiduponLondonunderthemoistandchillydepressionofJanuaryhadanimmenseeffectuponme。Itwasformeanepoch-makingdisappointment。IhadthoughtofLondonasalarge，free，welcoming，adventurousplace，andIsawitslovenlyandharshandirresponsive。

Ididnotrealiseatallwhathumanthingsmightbefoundbehindthosegreyfrontages，whatweaknessthatwholeforbiddingfacademightpresentlyconfess。Itistheconstanterrorofyouthtoover-estimatetheWillinthings。Ididnotseethatthedirt，thediscouragement，thediscomfortofLondoncouldbeduesimplytothefactthatLondonwasawitlessoldgiantessofatown，tooslackandstupidtokeepherselfcleanandmaintainabravefacetotheword。No！Isufferedfromthesortofillusionthatburntwitchesintheseventeenthcentury。Ienduedhergrubbydisorderwithasinisterandmagnificentqualityofintention。

Andmyuncle’sgesturesandpromisesfilledmewithdoubtandasortoffearforhim。Heseemedtomealostlittlecreature，toosillytobesilent，inavastimplacablecondemnation。IwasfullofpityandasortoftendernessformyauntSusan，whowasdoomedtofollowhiserraticfortunesmockedbyhisgrandiloquentpromises。

Iwastolearnbetter。ButIworkedwiththeterrorofthegrimundersideofLondoninmysoulduringallmylastyearatWimblehurst。



IcametoliveinLondon，asIshalltellyou，whenIwasnearlytwenty-two。Wimblehurstdwindlesinperspective，isnowinthisbookalittleplacefaroff，BladesovernomorethanasmallpinkishspeckoffrontageamongthedistantKentishhills；thescenebroadensout，becomesmultitudinousandlimitless，fullofthesenseofvastirrelevantmovement。IdonotremembermysecondcomingtoLondonasIdomyfirst，formyearlyimpressions，savethatanOctobermemoryofsoftenedambersunshinestandsout，ambersunshinefallingongreyhousefrontsIknownotwhere。That，andasenseofalargetranquillity。

Icouldfillabook，Ithink，withamoreorlessimaginaryaccountofhowIcametoapprehendLondon，howfirstinoneaspectandtheninanotheritgrewinmymind。Eachdaymyaccumulatingimpressionswereaddedtoandqualifiedandbroughtintorelationshipwithnewones；theyfusedinseparablywithothersthatwerepurelypersonalandaccidental。IfindmyselfwithacertaincomprehensiveperceptionofLondon，completeindeed，incurablyindistinctinplacesandyetinsomewayawholethatbeganwithmyfirstvisitandisstillbeingmellowedandenriched。

London！

Atfirst，nodoubt，itwasachaosofstreetsandpeopleandbuildingsandreasonlessgoingtoandfro。IdonotrememberthatIeverstruggledverysteadilytounderstandit，orexploreditwithanybutapersonalandadventurousintention。YetintimetherehasgrownupinmeakindoftheoryofLondon；IdothinkIseelinesofanorderedstructureoutofwhichithasgrown，detectedaprocessthatissomethingmorethanaconfusionofcasualaccidentsthoughindeeditmaybenomorethanaprocessofdisease。

IsaidattheoutsetofmyfirstbookthatIfindinBladesoverthecluetoallEngland。Well，IcertainlyimagineitisthecluetothestructureofLondon。TherehavebeennorevolutionsnodeliberaterestatementsorabandonmentsofopinioninEnglandsincethedaysofthefinegentry，since1688orthereabouts，thedayswhenBladesoverwasbuilt；therehavebeenchanges，dissolvingforestreplacingforest，ifyouwill；butthenitwasthatthebroadlinesoftheEnglishsystemsetfirmly。AndasI