The Veil Diaries Book 1 Read Online

  THE PAINTED VEIL

* * *

William Somerset Maugham was built-in in 1874 and lived in Paris until he was ten. He was educated at Rex's School, Canterbury, and at Heidelberg University. He spent some time at St. Thomas's Infirmary with the idea of practising medicine, simply the success of his outset novel, Liza of Lambeth, published in 1897, won him over to letters. Of Human being Bondage, the first of his masterpieces, came out in 1915, and with the publication in 1919 of The Moon and Sixpence his reputation every bit a novelist was established. His position as a successful playwright was existence consolidated at the same fourth dimension. His showtime play, A Man of Accolade, was followed past a series of successes just before and later on Earth War I, and his career in the theatre did non end until 1933 with Sheppey.

His fame as a curt story writer began with The Trembling of a Leaf, subtitled Picayune Stories of the South Sea Islands, in 1921, later which he published more than than 10 collections.. His other works include travel books such every bit On a Chinese Screen and Don Fernando, essays, criticism, and the autobiographical The Summing Up and A Writer's Notebook.

In 1927 Somerset Maugham settled in the South of France and lived there until his decease in 1965.

ALSO BY W. SOMERSET MAUGHAM

Of Human Bondage

The Moon and Sixpence

The Narrow Corner

The Razor's Edge

Cakes and Ale

The Summing Up

Collected Short Stories Vol. 1

Nerveless Brusk Stories Vol. ii

Collected Curt Stories Vol. 3

Collected Brusque Stories Vol. 4

Ashenden

South Sea Tales

For Services Rendered

The Merry-Get-Round

Don Fernando

On a Chinese Screen

Catalina

Upwardly at the Villa

Mrs Craddock

Liza of Lambeth

Ten Novels and their Authors

A Writer's Notebook

The Casuarina Tree

Christmas Vacation

The Magician

Points of View

Selected Plays

Theatre

And then and Now

The Vagrant Mood

Far Eastern Tales

More Far Eastern Tales

Westward. Somerset Maugham

THE PAINTED VEIL

This eBook is copyright material and must non be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any fashion except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions nether which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the writer's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Epub ISBN: 9781409075516

Version 1.0

www.randomhouse.co.u.k.

'. . . the painted veil which those who alive call Life.'

Preface

This story was suggested by the lines of Dante that run as follows:

Deb, quando tu sarai tomato al mondo,

Due east riposato della lunga via,

Seguito il terzo spirito al secondo,

Ricoiditi di me, che son la Pia:

Siena mi fè; disfecemi Maremma:

Salsi colui, che, innanellata pria

Disposando yard'avea con la sua gemma.

'Pray, when you are returned to the world, and rested from the long journey; followed the third spirit on the second, 'remember me, who am Pia. Siena made me, Maremma unmade me: this he knows who after betrothal consort me with his ring.'

I was a pupil at St. Thomas'south Infirmary and the Easter vacation gave me vi weeks to myself. With my clothes in a gladstone bag and 20 pounds in my pocket I ready out. I was twenty. I went to Genoa and Pisa and then to Florence. Hither I took a room in the via Laura, from the window of which I could encounter the lovely dome of the Cathedral, in the apartment of a widow lady, with a daughter, who offered me lath and lodging (after a adept deal of haggling) for 4 lire a day. I am afraid that she did not make a very good matter out of it, since my appetite was enormous, and I could devour a mount of macaroni without inconvenience. She had a vineyard on the Tuscan hills, and my recollection is that the Chianti she got from it was the best I have ever drunk in Italy. Her daughter gave me an Italian lesson every day. She seemed to me then of mature age, just I do not suppose that she was more than twenty-six. She had had problem. Her betrothed, an officeholder, had been killed in Abyssinia and she was consecrated to virginity. It was an understood matter that on her mother'due south death (a buxom, grey-haired, jovial lady who did not mean to die a day before the dear Lord saw fit) Ersilia would enter organized religion. Only she looked frontwards to this with cheerfulness. She loved a good laugh. Nosotros were very gay at luncheon and dinner, but she took her lessons seriously, and when I was stupid or inattentive rapped me over the knuckles with a black ruler. I should have been indignant at being treated like a child if it had not reminded me of the old-fashioned pedagogues I had read of in books and and then made me laugh.

I lived laborious days. I started each i past translating a few pages of one of Ibsen's plays so that I might larn mastery of technique and ease in writing dialogue; then, with Ruskin in my hand, I examined the sights of Florence. I admired according to instructions the tower of Giotto and the bronze doors of Ghiberti. I was properly enthusiastic over the Botticellis in the Uffizi and I turned the scornful shoulder of extreme youth on what the main disapproved of. Later on tiffin I had my Italian lesson and so going out one time more I visited the churches and wandered day-dreaming along the Arno. When dinner was done I went out to look for gamble, but such was my innocence, or at least my shyness, I ever came domicile every bit virtuous as I had gone out. The Signora, though she had given me a key, sighed with relief when she heard me come in and bolt the door, for she was ever afraid I should forget to do this, and I returned to my perusal of the history of the Guelphs and Ghibellines. I was bitterly conscious that non thus behaved the writers of the romantic era, though I dubiousness whether whatever of them managed to spend half-dozen weeks in Italy on twenty pounds, and I much enjoyed my sober and industrious life.

I had already read the Inferno (with the help of a translation, but conscientiously looking out in a dictionary the words I did not know), and then with Ersilia started on the Purgatorio. When we came to the passage I have quoted to a higher place she told me that Pia was a gentlewoman of Siena whose husband, suspecting her of adultery and afraid on account of her family to put her to death, took her down to his castle in the Maremma the noxious vapours of which he was confident would do the trick; simply she took so long to dice that he grew impatient and had her thrown out of the window. I do not know where Ersilia learnt all this, the annotation in my own Dante was less circumstantial, but the story for some reason caught my imagination. I turned it over in my mind and for many years from time to time would breed over it for two or three days. I used to repeat to myself the line: Siena mi fè; disfecemi Maremma. Just it was 1 among many subjects that occupied my fancy and for long periods I forgot information technology. Of course I saw information technology equally a modern story, and I could non think of a setting in the world of today in which such events might plausibly happen. It was non till I made a long journey in Mainland china that I found this.

I think this is the simply novel I have written in which I started from a story rather than from a character. It is hard to explicate the relation between character and plot. You cannot very well call up of a character in the void; the moment yous think of him, you call up of him in some situation, doing something; then that the character and at least his principle action seem to be the result of a simultaneous deed of the imagination. But in this case the characters were chosen to

fit the story I gradually evolved; they were constructed from persons I had long known in different circumstances.

I had with this volume some of the difficulties that are apt to befall an author. I had originally chosen my hero and heroine Lane, a common enough name, just it appeared that there were people of that name in Hong-Kong. They brought an action, which the proprietors of the mag in which my novel was serialised, settled for two hundred and fifty pounds, and I inverse the name to Fane. Then the Assistant Colonial Secretarial assistant, thinking himself libelled, threatened to plant proceedings. I was surprised, since in England we tin put a Prime Minister on the phase or use him as the graphic symbol of a novel, an Archbishop of Canterbury or a Lord Chancellor, and the tenants of these exalted offices do not plough a hair. It seemed to me strange that the temporary occupant of so insignificant a post should think himself aimed at, but in guild to save trouble I changed Hong-Kong to an imaginary colony of Tching-Yen.* The book had already been published when the incident arose and was recalled. A certain number of acute reviewers who had received information technology did non on one pretext and another return their copies. These accept now acquired a bibliographical value, I think there are about 60 of them in beingness, and are bought past collectors at a loftier price.

1

She gave a startled weep.

'What's the affair?' he asked.

Notwithstanding the darkness of the shuttered room he saw her face on a sudden distraught with terror.

'Some ane but tried the door.'

'Well, perchance it was the amah, or one of the boys.'

'They never come up at this time. They know I always sleep later on dejeuner.'

'Who else could it be?'

'Walter,' she whispered, her lips trembling.

She pointed to his shoes. He tried to put them on, but his nervousness, for her alarm was affecting him, made him clumsy, and likewise, they were on the tight side. With a faint gasp of impatience she gave him a shoe-horn. She slipped into a kimono and in her bare feet went over to her dressing-tabular array. Her hair was shingled and with a comb she had repaired its disorder earlier he had laced his 2nd shoe. She handed him his glaze.

'How shall I become out?'

'You'd better wait a bit. I'll look out and see that information technology'southward all right.'

'It can't maybe exist Walter. He doesn't leave the laboratory till 5.'

'Who is it then?'

They spoke in whispers now. She was quaking. It occurred to him that in an emergency she would lose her caput and on a sudden he felt angry with her. If information technology wasn't safe why the devil had she said it was? She caught her jiff and put her mitt on his arm. He followed the direction of her glance. They stood facing the windows that led out on the verandah. They were shuttered and the shutters were bolted. They saw the white china knob of the handle slowly plough. They had heard no ane walk along the verandah. It was terrifying to come across that silent motion. A minute passed and there was no sound. And so, with the ghastliness of the supernatural, in the same stealthy, noiseless and horrifying fashion, they saw the white china knob of the handle at the other window turn as well. It was so frightening that Kitty, her nerves failing her, opened her mouth to scream; but, seeing what she was going to do, he swiftly put his manus over it and her weep was smothered in his fingers.

Silence. She leaned against him, her knees shaking, and he was afraid she would faint. Frowning, his jaw set, he carried her to the bed and sat her down upon it. She was as white equally the sheet and notwithstanding his tan his cheeks were pale too. He stood past her side looking with fascinated gaze at the red china knob. They did not speak. Then he saw that she was crying.

'For God'south sake don't do that,' he whispered irritably. 'If we're in for it we're in for it. We shall only have to brazen information technology out.'

She looked for her handkerchief and knowing what she wanted he gave her her bag.

'Where's your topee?'

'I left information technology downstairs.'

'Oh, my God!'

'I say, you must pull yourself together. It's a hundred to 1 information technology wasn't Walter. Why on globe should he come up back at this hour? He never does come up home in the centre of the solar day, does he?'

'Never.'

'I'll bet you anything y'all like it was the amah.'

She gave him the shadow of a smile. His rich, caressing vocalization reassured her and she took his hand and affectionately pressed it. He gave her a moment to collect herself.

'Look here, we can't stay here for ever,' he said then. 'Do you feel up to going out on the verandah and having a await?'

'I don't retrieve I tin can stand.'

'Take you got any brandy in here?'

She shook her caput. A frown for an instant darkened his brow, he was growing impatient, he did not quite know what to practice. Suddenly she clutched his hand more tightly.

'Suppose he's waiting there?'

He forced his lips to grin and his vocalisation retained the gentle, persuasive tone the effect of which he was so fully witting of.

'That's not very likely. Have a trivial pluck, Kitty. How tin can it possibly be your husband? If he'd come in and seen a foreign topee in the hall and come up upstairs and found your room locked, surely he would take made some sort of row. Information technology must accept been one of the servants. Only a Chinese would turn a handle in that way.'

She did feel more herself at present.

'It's non very pleasant even if it was just the amah.'

'She can be squared and if necessary I'll put the fear of God into her. In that location are not many advantages in being a government official, but you lot may as well go what you can out of it.'

He must be right. She stood upward and turning to him stretched out her arms: he took her in his and kissed her on the lips. It was such rapture that information technology was hurting. She adored him. He released her and she went to the window. She slid dorsum the bolt and opening the shutter a little looked out. In that location was not a soul. She slipped on to the verandah, looked into her hubby'south dressing-room and and so into her ain sitting-room. Both were empty. She went dorsum to the sleeping room and beckoned to him.

'Nobody.'

'I believe the whole matter was an optical delusion.'

'Don't laugh. I was terrified. Go into my sitting-room and sit downwards. I'll put on my stockings and some shoes.'

2

He did as she bade and in five minutes she joined him. He was smoking a cigarette.

'I say, could I have a brandy and soda?'

'Yes, I'll ring.'

'I don't think information technology would hurt yous past the expect of things.'

They waited in silence for the boy to reply. She gave the order.

'Ring up the laboratory and ask if Walter is there,' she said and then. 'They won't know your voice.'

He took up the receiver and asked for the number. He inquired whether Dr. Fane was in. He put downward the receiver.

'He hasn't been in since tiffin,' he told her. 'Inquire the male child whether he has been here.'

'I daren't. Information technology'll look and then funny if he has and I didn't encounter him.'

The male child brought the drinks and Townsend helped himself. When he offered her some she shook her head.

'What's to be done if it was Walter?' she asked.

'Perhaps he wouldn't care.'

'Walter?'

Her tone was incredulous.

'Information technology's e'er struck me he was rather shy. Some men tin't conduct scenes, you know. He's got sense enough to know that in that location'southward nothing to be gained by making a scandal. I don't believe for a minute it was Walter, but even if it was, my impression is that he'll do naught. I call up he'll ignore it.'

She reflected for a moment.

'He'southward clumsily in beloved with me.'

'Well, that's all to the adept. You'll become round him.'

He gave her that charming smiling of his which she had always found so irresistible. Information technology was a ho-hum smile which started in his articulate blue optics and travelled past perceptible degrees to his shapely

mouth. He had small white even teeth. Information technology was a very sensual smile and it made her middle melt in her body.

'I don't very much care,' she said, with a wink of gaiety. 'It was worth it.'

'It was my mistake.'

'Why did you come up? I was amazed to see you.'

'I couldn't resist it.'

'You lot dear.'

She leaned a little towards him, her dark and shining eyes gazing passionately into his, her oral cavity a little open up with desire, and he put his arms circular her. She abandoned herself with a sigh of ecstasy to their shelter.

'Y'all know you tin can ever count on me.' he said.

'I'chiliad so happy with y'all. I wish I could make you as happy as you make me.'

'You're not frightened whatsoever more?'

'I hate Walter,' she answered.

He did non quite know what to say to this, then he kissed her. Her confront was very soft against his.

But he took her wrist on which was a little gold watch and looked at the time.

'Practice y'all know what I must do now?'

'Commodities?' she smiled.

He nodded. For ane instant she clung to him more closely, but she felt his want to go, and she released him.

'It's shameful the style you neglect your work. Be off with yous.'

He could never resist the temptation to flirt.

'You seem in a devil of a bustle to get rid of me,' he said lightly.

'You know that I hate to permit you go.'

Her answer was low and deep and serious. He gave a flattered express mirth.

'Don't worry your pretty little head about our mysterious visitor. I'm quite sure information technology was the amah. And if there's whatever trouble I guarantee to go you out of information technology.'

'Have you had a lot of experience?'

His grinning was amused and conceited.

'No, merely I flatter myself that I've got a head screwed on my shoulders.'

3

She went out on to the verandah and watched him get out the house. He waved his manus to her. It gave her a footling thrill as she looked at him; he was twoscore-one, merely he had the lithe figure and the springing step of a boy.

macdowellhavercy.blogspot.com

Source: https://www.bookfrom.net/w-somerset-maugham/36249-the_painted_veil.html

Share this post