He was going to start with five hundred assorted
titles,he said.
It had been the sole significant action ofhis life,
leaving the New Albion. Recently, he told Gordon, he had had an idea for a
profitable side-line.
Yet it was not death, actual physical death, that
he wished for. He had heard about Gordonfrom Mr McKechnie, whom he had met at an
auction a few daysearlier. Gordons thirtieth birthday was past;her own was not far
distant. But of course, in his inmost heart, he didnt really like havingGordon
there. There was no TROUBLEabout a job like this; no room for ambition, no effort,
no hope.
One morning a letter came for Ravelston fromMr
McKechnie.
It was a place where you COULD be happy, in a
sluttish way. There was a tension between them all the time.
Its not practicable, but ina way its sound.
Whenever a clergyman died Mr Cheesemanwas on the spot with the promptness of a
vulture.
Astime went on, even the desire to finish London
Pleasures vanished.
There was something about him now that dismayed
andfrightened her. It was all so different fromMrs Wisbeachs. She was going to
addherself to the band of people who worried him and badgered him toget
on.
The bare floorboards hadnever been stained but were
dark with dirt. She implored him almost on her knees not tothrow this chance away.
But do you HAVE to live in a place like this? He would have made himself invisible
if he could. She pulled her hat off andthrew it into a chair.
Gordon lay on the ragged bed, fully dressed but
withno shoes on. He knew what she was thinking; he had toinduce in himself a kind of
brutality to stand firm. But he couldntdisappoint Ravelston after all Ravelston had
done for him.
And when he told her that his mind wasmade up, she
wept, actually wept.
Mrs Beaver, the charwoman,had also seen through
Gordon.
EvidentlyMr Cheeseman specialized in rare books. As
a matter of fact Ive heard all about that.
Before this business they had never met, but
nowRosemary had got to know Julia somehow.
It had dragged him downward with strange
suddenness.
That waswhere he wished to be, down in the
ghost-kingdom, BELOW ambition.
There were good public baths nearby, but he hardly
went to them as often as once in a month.
Gordon could never make out wherethe dirt came
from.
You were just part of the slum, and, like
allslum-dwellers, taken for granted.
From timeto time Gordon made feeble efforts to
escape, which always ended inthe same way. Into the ghost-kingdom, out ofthe reach
of hope, out of the reach of fear!