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The visitor called Berryman sat down； and gazed up at the wall with
his fine eyes。
Shelton had a faint remembrance of this don； and bowed； but the new…
comer sat smiling； and did not notice the salute。
〃Trimmer and Washer are coming round；〃 he said； and as he spoke the
door opened to admit these gentlemen。 Of the same height； but
different appearance； their manner was faintly jocular； faintly
supercilious； as if they tolerated everything。 The one whose name
was Trimmer had patches of red on his large cheek…bones； and on his
cheeks a bluish tint。 His lips were rather full； so that he had a
likeness to a spider。 Washer； who was thin and pale； wore an
intellectual smile。
The little fat host moved the hand that held the meerschaum。
〃Crocker； Shelton；〃 he said。
An awkward silence followed。 Shelton tried to rouse the cultured
portion of his wits； but the sense that nothing would be treated
seriously paralysed his faculties； he stayed silent； staring at the
glowing tip of his cigar。 It seemed to him unfair to have intruded
on these gentlemen without its having been made quite clear to them
beforehand who and what he was； he rose to take his leave； but Washer
had begun to speak。
〃Madame Bovary！〃 he said quizzically； reading the title of the book
on the little fat man's bookrest； and； holding it closer to his
boiled…looking eyes； he repeated； as though it were a joke； 〃Madame
Bovary！〃
〃Do you mean to say； Turl； that you can stand that stuff？〃 said
Berryman。
As might have been expected； this celebrated novel's name had
galvanised him into life； he strolled over to the bookcase； took down
a book； opened it； and began to read； wandering in a desultory way
about the room。
〃Ha！ Berryman；〃 said a conciliatory voice behindit came from
Trimmer； who had set his back against the hearth； and grasped with
either hand a fistful of his gown〃the book's a classic！〃
〃Classic！〃 exclaimed Berryman； transfixing Shelton with his eyes；
〃the fellow ought to have been horsewhipped for writing such
putridity！〃
A feeling of hostility instantly sprang up in Shelton； he looked at
his little host； who； however； merely blinked。
〃Berryman only means；〃 explains Washer； a certain malice in his
smile； 〃that the author is n't one of his particular pets。〃
〃For God's sake； you know； don't get Berryman on his horse！〃 growled
the little fat man suddenly。
Berryman returned his volume to the shelf and took another down。
There was something almost godlike in his sarcastic absent…
mindedness。
〃Imagine a man writing that stuff；〃 he said； 〃if he'd ever been at
Eton！ What do we want to know about that sort of thing？ A writer
should be a sportsman and a gentleman〃； and again he looked down over
his chin at Shelton； as though expecting him to controvert the
sentiment。
〃Don't you〃 began the latter。
But Berryman's attention had wandered to the wall。
〃I really don't care；〃 said he； 〃to know what a woman feels when she
is going to the dogs； it does n't interest me。〃
The voice of Trimmer made things pleasant：
〃Question of moral standards； that； and nothing more。〃
He had stretched his legs like compasses；and the way he grasped his
gown…wings seemed to turn him to a pair of scales。 His lowering
smile embraced the room； deprecating strong expressions。 〃After
all；〃 he seemed to say； 〃we are men of the world； we know there 's
not very much in anything。 This is the modern spirit； why not give
it a look in？〃
〃Do I understand you to say； Berryman； that you don't enjoy a spicy
book？〃 asked Washer with his smile； and at this question the little
fat man sniggered； blinking tempestuously； as if to say； 〃Nothing
pleasanter； don't you know； before a hot fire in cold weather。〃
Berryman paid no attention to the impertinent inquiry； continuing to
dip into his volume and walk up and down。
〃I've nothing to say；〃 he remarked； stopping before Shelton； and
looking down； as if at last aware of him； 〃to those who talk of being
justified through Art。 I call a spade a spade。〃
Shelton did not answer； because he could not tell whether Berryman
was addressing him or society at large。 And Berryman went on：
〃Do we want to know about the feelings of a middle…class woman with a
taste for vice？ Tell me the point of it。 No man who was in the
habit of taking baths would choose such a subject。〃
〃You come to the question of…ah…subjects；〃 the voice of Trimmer
genially buzzed he had gathered his garments tight across his back…
〃my dear fellow； Art； properly applied； justifies all subjects。〃
〃For Art；〃 squeaked Berryman； putting back his second volume and
taking down a third； 〃you have Homer； Cervantes； Shakespeare； Ossian；
for garbage； a number of unwashed gentlemen。〃
There was a laugh； Shelton glanced round at all in turn。 With the
exception of Crocker； who was half asleep and smiling idiotically；
they wore； one and all； a look as if by no chance could they consider
any subject fit to move their hearts； as if； one and all； they were
so profoundly anchored on the sea of life that waves could only seem
impertinent。 It may have been some glimmer in this glance of
Shelton's that brought Trimmer once more to the rescue with his
compromising air。
〃The French；〃 said he； 〃have quite a different standard from
ourselves in literature； just as they have a different standard in
regard to honour。 All this is purely artificial。〃
What he； meant； however； Shelton found it difficult to tell。
〃Honour；〃 said Washer； 〃'l'honneur； die Ehre' duelling； unfaithful
wives…〃
He was clearly going to add to this； but it was lost； for the little
fat man； taking the meerschaum with trembling fingers； and holding it
within two inches of his chin； murmured：
〃You fellows； Berryman's awf'ly strong on honour。〃
He blinked twice； and put the meerschaum back between his lips。
Without returning the third volume to its shelf； Berryman took down a
fourth； with chest expanded； he appeared about to use the books as
dumb…bells。
〃Quite so；〃 said Trimmer； 〃the change from duelling to law courts is
profoundly…〃
Whether he were going to say 〃significant〃 or 〃insignificant；〃 in
Shelton's estimate he did not know himself。 Fortunately Berryman
broke in：
〃Law courts or not； when a man runs away with a wife of mine； I shall
punch his head！〃
〃Come； come！〃 said Turner； spasmodically grasping his two wings。
Shelton had a gleam of inspiration。 〃If your wife deceived you；〃 he
thought； looking at Trimmer's eyes； 〃you 'd keep it quiet； and hold
it over her。〃
Washer passed his hand over his pale chaps： his smile had never
wavered； he looked like one for ever lost in the making of an
epigram。
The punching theorist stretched his body； holding the books level
with his shoulders； as though to stone his hearers with his point of
view。 His f