The Complete Short Stories of Evelyn Waugh - Evelyn Waugh [12]
Henry Quest has escaped from the Chatham and is talking about diplomatic appointments, drinking whisky and regarding everyone with disapproval. Lord Basingstoke stands talking to him, with his mind still worrying about the Constitution of the Commonwealth of Australia. Swithin is making himself quite delightful to the guest of honour. Mr. Egerton-Verschoyle sits very white, complaining of the cold.
Enter Mr. Sayle of Merton.
“GABRIEL, DO LOOK WHO I’VE FOUND IN THE QUAD. MAY I BRING HIM IN?” He pulls in Adam, who stands with a broken gin bottle in one hand staring stupidly about the room.
Someone pours him out a glass of champagne.
The party goes on.
A voice is heard roaring “ADAM” outside the window, and suddenly there bursts in Ernest, looking incredibly drunk. His hair is disordered, his eyes glazed, his neck and face crimson and greasy. He sits down in a chair immobile; someone gives him a drink; he takes it mechanically and then pours it into the carpet and continues to stare before him.
“ADAM, IS THIS IMPOSSIBLE PERSON A FRIEND OF YOURS? DO FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE TAKE HIM AWAY. GABRIEL WILL BE FURIOUS.”
“HE’S THE MOST MARVELLOUS MAN, HENRY. YOU JUST DON’T KNOW HIM. COME AND TALK TO HIM.”
And to his intense disgust Henry is led across the room and introduced to Ernest. Ernest at first does not seem to hear, and then slowly raises his eyes until they are gazing at Henry; by a further effort he continues to focus them.
“QUEST? ANY RELATION TO ADAM’S WOMAN?”
There is about to be a scene. The musical comedy actor feels that only this was needed to complete the melancholy of the evening. Henry is all indignation and contempt. “IMOGEN QUEST IS MY SISTER IF THAT’S WHAT YOU MEAN. WHO THE DEVIL ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY SPEAKING ABOUT HER LIKE THAT?”
Gabriel flutters ineffectually in the background. Richard Basingstoke interposes with a genial, “Come on, Henry, can’t you see the frightful man’s blind drunk?” Swithin begs Adam to take Ernest away. Everybody is thrown into the utmost agitation.
But Ernest, in his own way, saves everyone from further anxiety.
“DO YOU KNOW, I THINK I’M GOING TO BE SICK?”
And makes his way unmolested and with perfect dignity to the quad. The gramophone starts playing “Everybody loves my baby.” Fade out.
THE OXFORD CITY LIBERAL ASSOCIATION
DANCE AT THE TOWN HALL.
Tickets are being sold at the door for 1s. 6d.
Upstairs there is a table with jugs of lemonade and plates of plum cake. In the main hall a band is playing and the younger liberals are dancing. One of the waitresses from the Crown sits by the door fanning her face with a handkerchief.
Ernest, with a radiant smile, is slowly walking round the room offering plum cake to the couples sitting about. Some giggle and take it; some giggle and refuse; some refuse and look exceedingly haughty.
Adam leans against the side of the door watching him.
Close up; Adam bears on his face the same expression of blind misery that he wore in the taxi the night before.
LE VIN TRISTE.
Ernest has asked the waitress from the Crown to dance with him. It is an ungainly performance; still sublimely contented he collides with several couples, misses his footing and, but for his partner, would have fallen. An M.C. in evening dress asks Adam to take him away.
Broad stone steps.
Several motors are drawn up outside the Town Hall. Ernest climbs into the first of them—a decrepit Ford—and starts the engine. Adam attempts to stop him. A policeman hurries up. There is a wrenching of gears