I
The room was full of cigarette smoke. It eddied and drifted about, forming a thin blue haze. Through it came the sound of three voices occupied with the betterment of the human race and the encouragement of artтБатАФespecially art that defied all known conventions.
Sebastian Levinne, leaning back against the ornate marble mantelpiece of his motherтАЩs town house, spoke didactically, gesticulating with the long yellow hand that held his cigarette. The tendency to lisp was still there, but very faint. His yellow Mongolian face, his surprised-looking ears, were much the same as they had been at eleven years old. At twenty-two he was the same Sebastian, sure of himself, perceptive, with the same love of beauty and the same unemotional and unerring sense of values.
In front of him, reclining in two immense leather covered armchairs, were Vernon and Joe. Very much alike these two, cast in the same sharply accentuated black and white mould. But, as of old, JoeтАЩs was the more aggressive personality, energetic, rebellious, vehement. Vernon, an immense length, lay back slothfully in his chair. His long legs rested on the back of another chair. He was blowing smoke rings and smiling thoughtfully to himself. He occasionally contributed grunts to the conversation, or a short lazy sentence.
тАЬThat wouldnтАЩt pay,тАЭ Sebastian had just said decisively.
As he had half expected, Joe was roused at once to the point of virulence.
тАЬWho wants a thing to pay? ItтАЩs soтБатАФso rottenтБатАФthat point of view! Treating everything from a commercial standpoint. I hate it.тАЭ
Sebastian said calmly: тАЬThatтАЩs because youтАЩve got such an incurably romantic view of life. You like poets to starve in garrets, and artists to toil unrecognized, and sculptors to be applauded after they are dead.тАЭ
тАЬWellтБатАФthatтАЩs what happens. Always!тАЭ
тАЬNo, not always. Very often, perhaps. But it neednтАЩt be as often as it is. ThatтАЩs my point. The world never likes anything newтБатАФbut I say it could be made to. Taken the right way, it could be made to. But youтАЩve got to know just what will go down and what wonтАЩt.тАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs compromise,тАЭ murmured Vernon indistinctly.
тАЬItтАЩs common sense! Why should I lose money by backing my judgment?тАЭ
тАЬOh, Sebastian,тАЭ cried Joe, тАЬyouтБатАФyouтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬJew!тАЭ said Sebastian calmly. тАЬThatтАЩs what you mean. Well, we Jews have got tasteтБатАФwe know when a thing is fine and when it isnтАЩt. We donтАЩt go by the fashionтБатАФwe back our own judgment, and weтАЩre right! People always see the money side of it, but the otherтАЩs there too.тАЭ
Vernon grunted. Sebastian went on:
тАЬThere are two sides to what weтАЩre talking aboutтБатАФthere are people who are thinking of new things, new ways of doing old things, new thoughts altogetherтБатАФand who canтАЩt get their chance because people are afraid of anything new. And there are the other peopleтБатАФthe people who know what the public have always wanted, and who go on giving it to them, because itтАЩs safe and thereтАЩs a sure profit. But thereтАЩs a third wayтБатАФto find things that are new and beautiful, and take a chance on them. ThatтАЩs what IтАЩm going to do. IтАЩm going to run a picture gallery in Bond StreetтБатАФI signed the deeds yesterdayтБатАФand a couple of theatresтБатАФand later I want to run a weekly of some kind on entirely different lines from anything that has been done before. And whatтАЩs more, IтАЩm going to make the whole thing pay. There are all sorts of things that I admire, that a cultivated few would admireтБатАФbut IтАЩm not going out for those. Anything I runтАЩs going to be a popular success. Dash it all, Joe, donтАЩt you see that half the fun of the thing is making it pay? ItтАЩs justifying yourself by success.тАЭ
Joe shook her head, unconvinced.
тАЬAre you really going to have all those things?тАЭ said Vernon.
Both the cousins looked at Sebastian with a tinge of envy. Queer, and rather wonderful, to be in old SebastianтАЩs position. His father had died some years before. Sebastian, at twenty-two, was master of so many millions that it took oneтАЩs breath away to think about them.
The friendship with Sebastian, begun all those years ago at Abbots Puissants, had endured and strengthened. He and Vernon had been friends at Eton, they were at the same college at Cambridge. In the holidays, the three had always managed to spend a good deal of time together.
тАЬWhat about sculpture?тАЭ asked Joe suddenly. тАЬIs that included?тАЭ
тАЬOf course. Are you still keen about taking up modelling?тАЭ
тАЬRather. ItтАЩs the only thing I really care about.тАЭ
A derisive hoot of laughter came from Vernon.
тАЬYes, and what will it be this time next year? YouтАЩll be a frenzied poet or something.тАЭ
тАЬIt takes one some time to find oneтАЩs true vocation,тАЭ said Joe with dignity. тАЬBut IтАЩm really in earnest this time.тАЭ
тАЬYou always are,тАЭ said Vernon. тАЬHowever, thank heaven youтАЩve given up that damned violin.тАЭ
тАЬWhy do you hate music so, Vernon?тАЭ
тАЬDunnoтБатАФI always have.тАЭ
Joe turned back to Sebastian. Unconsciously her voice took on a different note. It sounded ever so faintly constrained.
тАЬWhat do you think of Paul la MarreтАЩs work? Vernon and I went to his studio last Sunday.тАЭ
тАЬNo guts,тАЭ said Sebastian succinctly.
A slight flush rose in JoeтАЩs cheek.
тАЬThatтАЩs simply because you donтАЩt understand what heтАЩs aiming at. I think heтАЩs wonderful.тАЭ
тАЬAnaemic,тАЭ said Sebastian, unperturbed.
тАЬSebastian, I think youтАЩre perfectly hateful sometimes. Just because La Marre has the courage to break away from traditionтБатАФтАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs not it at all,тАЭ said Sebastian. тАЬA man can break away from tradition by modelling a Stilton cheese and calling it his idea of a nymph bathing. But if he canтАЩt convince you and impress you by doing so, heтАЩs failed. Just doing things differently to anyone else isnтАЩt genius. Nine times out of ten itтАЩs aiming at getting cheap notoriety.тАЭ
The door opened and Mrs.┬аLevinne looked in.
тАЬTeaтАЩth ready, dearths,тАЭ she said, and beamed on them.
Jet dangled and twinkled on her immense bust. A large black hat with feathers sat on top of her elaborately arranged coiffure. She looked the complete symbol of material prosperity. Her eyes dwelt with adoration on Sebastian.
They got up, and prepared to follow her. Sebastian said in a low voice to Joe:
тАЬJoeтБатАФyouтАЩre not angry, are you?тАЭ
There was suddenly something young and pathetic about his voiceтБатАФa pleading in it that exposed him as immature and vulnerable. A moment ago he had been the master spirit laying down the law in complete self-confidence.
тАЬWhy should I be angry?тАЭ said Joe coldly.
She moved towards the door without looking at him. SebastianтАЩs eyes rested on her wistfully. She had that dark magnetic beauty that matures early. Her skin was dead white, and her eyelashes so thick and dark that they looked like jet against the even colour of her cheeks. There was magic in her way of moving, something languorous and passionate that was wholly unconscious as yet of its own appeal. Although she was the youngest of the three, just past her twentieth birthday, she was at the same time the oldest. To her Vernon and Sebastian were boys, and she despised boys. That queer doglike devotion of SebastianтАЩs irritated her. She liked men of experience, men who could say exciting, half understood things. She lowered her white eyelids for a moment, remembering Paul la Marre.