ARTHUR WITHERS THINKS THINGS OUT
I
After that last of the Clockwork man, and the with Doctor Allingham and Gregg that followed, Arthur had home to his tea. No amount of in the affair, it might appear to himself and others, him from his Saturday night's programme. Rose Lomas, to he had engaged, was a hundred times more than a man, and a being actually who walked and talked by means was a small problem in with that of his clothes, and himself up in time for his assignation. As soon as the of themselves, and so the that they were not dead, Arthur himself able to normal existence.
His were at the end of the town. The consisted64] of a small bedroom, which he with a clerk, and a place at table with the other of the house. The was very dirty, and Mrs. Flack's house alone presented some of and respectability. It was a two-storied red cottage. There was no garden, and you entered directly into a room through a door, upon which a plate was that the announcement:—
MRS. FLACK
Trained Midwife.
Arthur into the room, his on to the broken-down that the entire of one wall, and sat at the table.
"Well?" Mrs. Flack, as she him out a cup of tea, "who won?"
"Nobody," Arthur, and into his mouth. "Game off."
Mr. Flack, who was seated in his arm-chair by the fire-place, looked up in amazement. His in was immense, but him from as as the ground. He was upon Arthur's reports and the local paper. "'Ow's that, then?" he demanded, slowly.
Arthur and to65] explain. But, although the was still in his mind, he it difficult to what had taken place. The doings of the Clockwork man were at once and inexplicable. It was almost to people who had not actually the into a of such happenings. Arthur had to to movements of his arms and in order to produce an effect. But he a great point of upon the ear-flapping.
"Go hon!" Mrs. Flack, her red arms upon the table, "well I never!"
"'Tain't possible," her husband, "'e's your leg, ma."
But Arthur in his imitations, without very much his him or not. It at least an occupation. Mrs. Flack's rose and with merriment. "It's as good as the pictures," she at last, her eyes. But when Arthur spoke about the loud noise, and that the Clockwork man's of some of machinery, Mr. Flack sat and his gravely.
"You're a masterpiece," he remarked,66] "that's what you are." This was his term for anything out the way. "You ain't a going to me to that, not at my age.
"If you saw him," said Arthur, emphatically, "you'd have to believe. It's just that, and nothing else. He's like one of those toys come to life. And it's so funny. You'd guess."
Mr. Flack his thoughtfully. Presently he got up, walked to the end of the mantelpiece, his smoked-out pipe on the and took an empty one from an ornament. Then he returned to his seat and sat for a long time with the empty pipe in his mouth.
"'T'ain't possible," he ruminated, at last, "not for a to 'ave 'im. At least, not to my way of thinking."
Arthur his tea and got up from his chair. Conscious that his so had not conviction, he a moments of valuable time in an attempt to them.
"He like this," he explained, the walk of the Clockwork man, and at the same time his to noises. "And the row! Well, you know what a like when it's being up. Like that, only worse."
Mrs. Flack the part of herself in a of red arm. "You are a one," she declared. Then she looked at Mr. Flack, who sat unmoved. "Why don't you laugh. It would do you good. You take so serious."
"I ain't a going to laugh," said Mr. Flack, "not unless I see fit to laugh." And he to at Arthur's posturing. Presently the his urgent and through the narrow door that upstairs.
"Whoever 'e be," said Mr. Flack, to the visitor to Great Wymering, "I should judge 'im to be a of a masterpiece."
II
Upstairs in the bedroom, Arthur his and the limited amount of space the two beds. What a little box of a place it was, and how with furniture! You couldn't move an without into or something over. There wasn't room to a cat, much less to perform an with that amount of necessary to its successful accomplishment. Ordinarily he didn't notice these things; it was only when he was in a68] hurry, and had all of little to out, that the of his themselves into his mind and produced a of revolt. There were times when a and a chair in your way you to it out of the window. Just when you wanted to being yourself, when your were in a pleasant, way, you had to turn to and dress or undress, or wash, prepare for the of life. So much of was in that were only other people you to do the same as themselves. It wasn't so much a waste of time as a waste of life.
He his from the mattress. It was only that he had this for a press, and so added one more to existence. It was something else to be remembered. He at the of the which had about these habits. Rose Lomas liked him to look smart, and he had managed it somehow. There were of in Great Wymering, and Arthur had been to notice he had from them, in the of his courting. Early had him to that the69] of love rests upon a promising exterior, and only the that a wise choice. Arthur had been at on account of a that, to do him justice, was the result of personal conviction, erring, than carelessness. He had that it was a waste of life to an hour a month a barber's shop. Not only that, but the was far-reaching in its consequences. You into the shop familiar with yourself, of personality; and you came out a nonentity, of bay-rum. The succeeded in you from an over with original and into a without a in your head. The barber, in fact, was a Delilah in trousers; he the from your and you into the bargain.
Arthur had a of originality, although he would have been the last person to originality in his thoughts. He with any part of his personal being. As a boy he had been by the of up. It had to him such a of process, a extension, without in other magnitudes. He that70] other were only to be purchased at the of a out of the of childhood. Later on, he discovered, sadly enough, that this was the case; although it was possible to protract one's adolescence. Hence his untidiness, his inefficiency, and his obtuseness, were less than in the against the of time.
But the at the bank them as in his character.
Falling in love had the in a very different light. It was while to fashion in order to win the of Rose Lomas. And so he had his rivals. He all that their linings, up the of his shirts; with an a natural to his best clothes; and submitted himself to that daily of which he now as the to happy hours. And Rose, in that of himself for her sake, had soon learned how much there was the surface to her heart.
Yes, love different! You were to put up with all and for the of that obsession. That him as he71] on hands and in order to up his safety that had the of drawers. Love for everything, and comic.
He his razor, it into cold water—he had to ask Mrs. Flack for hot, and couldn't be now—and his thoughtfully.
How many times, in the of a lifetime, would he repeat that operation? And he would always in the same way, with his apart, and his out like flappers. He would always pass the over his in a manner, those places where the a little, with the same until the job was once more accomplished. Afterwards, he would the of his and them methodically, always in the same order. That was because, once you had upon the right way to do a thing you that method for good.
He that second of the left of his face, at the of his mouth, and it up by a swift, stroke, the his lip. Looking at the clock, he noticed that it was late. That was another problem of existence.72] You were always up against time. Generally, when you had to do something or somewhere, there was this of and a that the world ended at the of every hour and then again differently. The clock, in fact, was another tyrant, you of that of being able to go on for without changing. That was why people said, when they their "How's the enemy?"
He the problem of his upper lip with resolution. It was that this part of his should be smooth. There must not be a of roughness. Tears started into his as he that surface. He in his sharply, and in that moment of and a of the magnitude.
All questions in life came under the of Time and Space, of in letters. Recently, he had through a difficult book, in which the author used these a great many times, although in a difficult to grasp. Nevertheless, it obvious, in a small way, what the had been at.
And somehow, his returned to the Clockwork man. He performed73] the of his swiftly, the major part of his brain with that had for their the with which you perform some operations in life without the fact.
III
"Oh, I'm not nearly yet!"
Rose Lomas at the open window of her bedroom. Her arms and in the twilight. One hand her on the top of her head, and the other pressed a to her chest.
"Alright," said Arthur, at the gate, "buck up."
Rose looked around as though to make sure no one else was in a position to her decolleté. But the road was empty. It to see Arthur there his walking and looking at her. She to keep him there for a moments.
"Lovely evening," she remarked, presently.
"Yes, jolly," said Arthur, "buck up."
"I am up."
"You're not dressed!"
"I am," Rose insisted, distantly, "much more than you think. I've got on."
They looked at one another for a74] long while without a "stare out."
"How many did you make," Rose asked. She had to repeat the question again he it distinctly. Besides, he that her in was serious.
"None," he admitted, "but I was not out."
Rose considered. "That's not as good as making though."
Arthur a noise the of the cottage. "Someone coming," he warned.
Rose a steps and her head.
"Walk up the lane," she whispered, "I'll come presently."
"Alright," Arthur nodded, "buck up."
He walked a yards up the road, and then through a gate and the of a meadow. The narrow path to right and left. Arthur to upon paths in and how they came into existence. Obviously, it was people always walked in the same way. Countless footsteps, the same line until the away. That was very odd when you came to think about it. Why didn't people choose different of that particular meadow? Then there would75] be paths, a of choice. It would be to start a path of your own, and see how many people would you, though you a or not direct route. You come every day until the path was made.
He over the top of the meadow, again into a valley, and stopped a with away on either side. He to wait here for Rose. It would be to see her over the hill.
It was now. The visible with a brightness, and looked pendulous in the sky. He and at the above him. This time of the day was always puzzling. You tell at what moment the sky into the of evening, and then, night. Yet there must be some moment when each star was born. Perhaps by looking hard it would be possible to aware of these things. It would be like a unfold. Slow was an mystery, for actually to too for you to notice them. Or rather, you were too to notice them. Spring was like that. Every year you up your76] mind to notice the blossoming, the of green; but always it that you one and that some had taken place, so that it like a miracle.
He sat there, an empty pipe his teeth. He was not of a to smoke, and he of Rose's delay. She would come presently.
Presently his was by a noise, familiar although remote. It to him from the right, as though something slowly along the line, from his view. It was a soft, sound, very regular and sustained. At he it was the of a pheasant, but that it was much too persistent. It was something that a noise in the of walking along.
He his and his slowly to the right. For a long time the only very slightly. And then, there upon the a series of explosions.
Pfft—Pfft—Pfft—Pfft—Pfft—
And the other noise, the and whirring, this time so close to Arthur that he instinctively, and in fear, from the and looked around him. But the tall away on either side77] it difficult to see anyone who might be under their cover. There was a pause. Then a different sound.
Click—click—clickerty click—clicker clicker—clicker— And so on, louder and louder until at last it stopped, and its place was taken by the pitter-patter of nearer and nearer. There was a little that might have been for a sigh, and then a voice.
"Oh dear, it is trying. It is most trying—"
The next moment the Clockwork man came into full view the of the hedge. He was from to side, in his fashion, and his ahead of him. He did not appear to notice Arthur, and did not stop until the in order to allow him to pass. Then the Clockwork man his slowly and appeared to of the presence of another being. After a ear-flapping, he opened his mouth very wide.
"You haven't," he began, with great difficulty, "seen a and wig?"
"No," said Arthur, and he at the Clockwork man's and noticed something about the of the of his head; there to be78] some object there which he not see they were each other. "I'm sorry," he continued, looking around him, "perhaps we them somewhere."
"Somewhere!" the Clockwork man, "that's what to me so extraordinary! Everybody says that. The idea of a thing being somewhere, you know. Elsewhere than where you it to be. It's so confusing."
Arthur his common sense. "Can't you the place where you them," he suggested.
A of appeared on the other's forehead. He his once "Place. There, again, I can't that idea. What is a place? And how a thing come to be in one place and not in another?" He a hand up as though to the point. "A thing either is or it isn't. It can't be in a place."
"But it must be somewhere," Arthur, "that's obvious."
The Clockwork man looked distressed. "Theoretically," he agreed, "what you say is correct. I can it as a mathematical problem. But actually, you know, it isn't at all obvious."
He his slowly and at the objects. "It's such an79] world. I can't used to it at all. One on into and into things—things that ought not to be there, you know."
Arthur an to know what the thing was, and shiny, that looked like a of at the of the Clockwork man's head. He on from one to the other in an to see it clearly.
"Are you looking at my clock?" the Clockwork man, without his of speech. "I must apologise. I indecent."
"But what is it for?" Arthur.
"It's the mechanism," said the other, monotonously, "I keep on that you can't know these things. You see, it me. But, of course, it's out of order. That's how I came to be here, in this world. There can't be any other reason, I'm sure." He looked so that Arthur's of was again aroused, and he in silence.
"You see," the voice on, "only about the clock is in action. That for my present situation." There was a pause, only by tickings, regular but thin in sound. "I had been very down, and to have myself80] to. Then some careless blundered, and of I all wrong." He and looked hard at Arthur. "All wrong. Absolutely all wrong. And of course, I—I—lapsed, you see."
"Lapsed!" Arthur.
"Yes, I lapsed. Slipped, if you like that better—slipped about eight thousand years, so as I can make out. And, of course, is different." His arms up together in an of despair. "And now I am with all these old problems of Time and Space."
Arthur's returned to him, and produced a little in his mind. "Is there a world," he questioned, "where the problems of Time and Space are different?"
"Of course," the Clockwork man, slightly, "quite different. The clock, you see, man of Time and Space. It solved everything."
"But what happens," Arthur wanted to know, "when the clock properly?"
"Everything happens," said the other, "exactly as you want it to happen."
"Awfully convenient," Arthur murmured.
"Exceedingly." The Clockwork man's up and with a regular rhythm. "The whole of man is convenience." He himself a paces, as though81] against his will. "But my present situation, you know, is inconvenient."
He along, and, to Arthur's great disappointment, the of the hedge, so that it was to more than a of that object at the of his head. But he was still speaking.
"I don't know what I shall do, I'm sure," Arthur him say, as though to himself.
VIII
Rose Lomas came slowly over the top of the hill. She was hatless, and her short, about her face, for a had up in the wake of the sunset. She a jacket over a white with a V at the breast. There was a of leg, in black cashmere, the of her dark skirt and the of the tall that had taken so long to up. She walked with her and her closed, and her hands were into the pockets of her jacket.
"Whoever was that person you were talking to?" she enquired, as soon as they together.
"Oh, someone who had his way," said82] Arthur, carelessly. He to just at present. The Clockwork man was disconcerting. He was a side-issue. Arthur had a that Rose would be by him, for she was a girl. He now that this being would turn out to be some of hoax.
And so he said nothing. They by the stile, each other and the on-coming of night. They were very ordinary lovers, and just in the same way as other people in the same condition. They at and each other's with and care. Leaning against the stile, they were by pedestrians, some of took special to light their pipes as they passed. But the them. Being lovers, they to each other; and the world about them also to them, and to fashion its laws in with their desires. They would not have offered you for a House of Commons or an civilisation.
"Oh, Arthur," said Rose, suddenly, "I want to be like this always, don't you?"
"Yes," Arthur, and then caught83] his sharply. For his ear had a and in the distance. It to echo from the far-off hills, a of "chew chew," repeated. And presently, another and more familiar his attention. It was the "toot-toot" of an and the of a brake. And then the of the engine as the car a hill. Perhaps they were the Clockwork man. Arthur not. It to him the of that being were without there being added to them the by those to an puzzle, full of and surprises.
