merton of the movies-第30部分

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r　the　ticket　back　to　Simsbury；　the　railroad　fare　is〃

He　was　truly　amazed　when　he　found　this　sort　of　thing　going　on　in　that　part　of　his　mind　he　didn't　watch。　It　was　scandalous。　He　would　indignantly　snatch　the　half…finished　letter　and　tear　it　up　each　time　he　found　it　unaccountably　under　way。

It　was　surely　funny　the　way　your　mind　would　keep　doing　things　you　didn't　want　it　to　do。　As；　again；　this　very　morning　when；　with　his　silver　coin　out　in　his　hand；　he　had　merely　wished　to　regard　it　as　a　great　deal　of　silver　coin；　a　store　of　plenty　against　famine；　which　indeed　it　looked　to　be　under　a　not…too…minute　scrutiny。　It　looked　like　as　much　as　two　dollars　and　fifty　cents；　and　he　would　have　preferred　to　pocket　it　again　with　this　impression。　Yet　that　rebellious　other　part　of　his　mind　had　basely　counted　the　coin　even　while　he　eyed　it　approvingly；　and　it　had　persisted　in　shouting　aloud　that　it　was　not　two　dollars　and　fifty　cents　but　one　dollar　and　eightyfive　cents。

The　counting　part　of　the　mind　made　no　comment　on　this　discrepancy；　it　did　not　say　that　this　discovery　put　things　in　a　very　different　light。　It　merely　counted；　registered　the　result；　and　ceased　to　function；　with　an　air　of　saying　that　it　would　ascertain　the　facts　without　prejudice　and　you　could　do　what　you　liked　about　them。　It　didn't　care。

That　night　a　solitary　guest　enjoyed　the　quiet　hospitality　of　the　Crystal　Palace　Hotel。　He　might　have　been　seenbut　was　notto　effect　a　late　evening　entrance　to　this　snug　inn　by　means　of　a　front　window　which　had；　it　would　seem；　at　some　earlier　hour　of　the　day；　been　unfastened　from　within。　Here　a　not…too…luxurious　but　sufficing　bed　was　contrived　on　the　floor　of　the　lobby　from　a　pile　of　neatly　folded　blankets　at　hand；　and　a　second　night's　repose　was　enjoyed　by　the　lonely　patron；　who　again　at　an　early　hour　of　the　morning；　after　thoughtfully　refolding　the　blankets　that　had　protected　him；　was　at　some　pains　to　leave　the　place　as　he　had　entered　it　without　attracting　public　notice；　perchance　of　unpleasant　character。

On　this　day　it　would　not　have　been　possible　for　any　part　of　the　mind　whatsoever　to　misvalue　the　remaining　treasure　of　silver　coin。　It　had　become　inconsiderable；　and　even　if　kept　from　view　could　be；　and　was；　counted　again　and　again　by　mere　blind　fingertips。　They　contracted；　indeed；　a　senseless　habit　of　confining　themselves　in　a　trouser's　pocket　to　count　the　half…dollar；　the　quarter；　and　the　two　dimes　long　after　the　total　was　too　well　known　to　its　owner。

Nor　did　this　total；　unimpressive　at　best；　long　retain　even　these　poor　dimensions。　A　visit　to　the　cafeteria；　in　response　to　the　imperious　demands　of　a　familiar　organic　process；　resulted　in　less　labour；　by　two　dimes；　for　the　stubbornly　reiterative　fingertips。

An　ensuing　visit　to　the　Holden　lot　barber；　in　obedience　to　social　demands　construed　to　be　equally　imperious　with　the　physical；　reduced　all　subsequent　counting；　whether　by　fingertips　or　a　glance　of　the　eye；　to　barest　mechanical　routine。　A　single　half…dollar　is　easy　to　count。　Still；　on　the　following　morning　there　were　two　coins　to　count。　True；　both　were　dimes。

A　diligent　search　among　the　miscellany　of　the　Crystal　Palace　Hotel　had　failed　to　reveal　a　single　razor。　The　razor　used　by　the　miner　should　in　all　reason　have　been　found；　but　there　was　neither　that　nor　any　other。　The　baffled　seeker　believed　there　must　have　been　crooked　work　somewhere。　Without　hesitation　he　found　either　Jimmie　or　his　companion　to　be　guilty　of　malfeasance　in　office。　But　at　least　one　item　of　more　or　less　worried　debate　was　eliminated。　He　need　no　longer　weigh　mere　surface　gentility　against　the　stern　demands　of　an　active　metabolism。　A　shave　cost　a　quarter。　Twenty　cents　would　not　buy　a　shave；　but　it　would　buy　at　the　cafeteria　something　more　needful　to　any　one　but　a　fop。

He　saw　himself　in　the　days　to　comeif　there　were　very　many　days　to　come；　of　which　he　was　now　not　too　certaindescending　to　the　unwholesome　artistic　level　of　the　elder　Montague。　He　would；　in　short；　be　compelled　to　peddle　the　brush。　And　of　course　as　yet　it　was　nothing　like　a　brushnothing　to　kindle　the　eye　of　a　director　needing　genuine　brushes。　In　the　early　morning　light　he　fingered　a　somewhat　gaunt　chin　and　wondered　how　long　〃they〃　would　require　to　grow。　Not　yet　could　he　be　taken　for　one　of　those　actors　compelled　by　the　rigorous　exactions　of　creative　screen　art　to　let　Nature　have　its　course　with　his　beard。　At　present　he　merely　needed　a　shave。

And　the　collar　had　not　improved　with　usage。　Also；　as　the　day　wore　on；　coffee　with　one　egg　proved　to　have　been　not　long…enduring　fare　for　this　private　in　the　army　of　the　unemployed。　Still；　his　morale　was　but　slightly　impaired。　There　were　always　ways；　it　seemed。　And　the　later　hours　of　the　hungry　afternoon　were　rather　pleasantly　occupied　in　dwelling　upon　one　of　them。

The　sole　guest　of　the　Crystal　Palace　Hotel　entered　the　hostelry　that　night　somewhat　earlier　than　was　usual；　indeed　at　the　very　earliest　moment　that　foot　traffic　through　the　narrow　street　seemed　to　have　diminished　to　a　point　where　the　entry　could　be　effected　without　incurring　the　public　notice　which　he　at　these　moments　so　sincerely　shunned。　After　a　brief　interval　inside　the　lobby　he　issued　from　his　window　with　certain　objects　in　hand；　one　of　which　dropped　as　he　clambered　out。　The　resulting　clamour　seemed　to　rouse　far　echoes　along　the　dead　street；　and　he　hastily　withdrew；　with　a　smothered　exclamation　of　dismay；　about　the　nearest　corner　of　the　building　until　it　could　be　ascertained　that　echoes　alone　had　been　aroused。

After　a　little　breathless　waiting　he　slunk　down　the　street；　keeping　well　within　friendly　shadows；　stepping　softly；　until　he　reached　the　humble　cabin　where　so　lately　the　honest　miners　had　enacted　their　heart…tragedy。　He　jerked　the　latch…string　of　the　door　and　was　swiftly　inside；　groping　a　way　to　the　fireplace。　Here　he　lighted　matches；　thoughtfully　appropriated　that　morning　from　the　cafeteria　counter。　He　shielded　the　blaze　with　one　hand　while　with　the　other　he　put　to　use　the　articles　he　had　brought　from　his　hotel。

Into　a　tin　cooking　pot　with　a　long　handle　he　now　hastily　ladled　well…cooked　beans　from　the　discarded　heap　in　the　fireplace；　by　means　of　an　iron　spoon。　He　was　not　too　careful。　More　or　less　ashes　accompanied　the　nutritious　vegetables　as　the　pot　grew　to　be　half　full。　That　was　a　thing　to　be　corrected　later；　and　at　leisure。　When　the　last　bean　had　been　salvaged　the　flame　of　another　match　revealed　an　unsuspected　itema　half…loaf　of　bread　nestled　in　the　ashes　at　the　far　corner　of　the　fireplace。　It　lacked　freshness；　was；　in　truth；　withered　and　firm　to　the　touch；　but　doubtless　more　wholesome　than　bread　freshly　baked。

He　was　again　on　his　humble　cot　in　the　seclusion　of　the　Crystal　Palace　Hotel。　Half…reclining；　he　ate　at　leisure。　It　being　inadvisable　to　light　matches　here　he　ate　chiefly　by　the　touch　system。　There　was　a　marked　alkaline　flavour　to　the　repast；　not　unpleasantly　counteracted　by　a　growth　of　vegetable　mould　of　delicate　lavender　tints　which　Nature　had　been　decently　spreading　over　the　final　reduction　of　this　provender　to　its　basic　elements。　But　the　time　was　not　one　in　which　to　cavil　about　minor　infelicities。　Ashes　wouldn't　hurt　any　one　if　taken　in　moderation；　you　couldn't　see　the　mould　in　a　perfectly　dark　hotel；　and　the　bread　was　good。

The　feast　was　prolonged　until　a　late　hour；　but　the　fingertips　that　had　accurately　counted　money　in　a　dark　pocket　could　ascertain　in　a　dark　hotel　that　a　store　of　food　still　remained。　He　pulled　the　blankets　about　him　and　sank　comfortably　to　rest。　There　was　always　some　way。

Breakfast　the　next　morning　began　with　the　promise　of　only　moderate　enjoyment。　Somehow　in　the　gray　light　sifting　through　the　windows　the　beans　did　not　look　as　good　as　they　had　tasted　the　night　before；　and　the　early　mouthfuls　were　less　blithesome　on　the　palate　than　the　remembered　ones　of　yesterday。　He　thought　perhaps　he　was　not　so　hungry　as　he　had　been　at　his　first　encounter　with　them。　He　delicately　removed　a　pocket　of　ashes　from　the　centre；　and　tried　again。　They　tasted　better　now。　The　mould　of　tender　tints　was　again　visible　but　he　made　no　effort　to　avoid　it。　For　his　appetite　had　reawakened。　He　was　truly　hungry；　and　ate　with　an　entire　singleness　of　purpose。

Toward　the　last　of　the　meal　his　conscious　self　feebly　prompted　him　to　quit；　to　save　against　the　inevitable　hunger　of　the　night。　But　the　voice　was　ignored。　He　was　now　clay　to　the　moulding　of　the　subconscious。　He　could　have　saved　a　few　of　the　beans　when　reason　was　again　enthroned；　but　they　were　so　very　few　that　he　fatuously　thought　them　not　worth　saving。　Might　as　well　make　a　clean　job　of　it。　He　restored　the　stewpan　and　spoon　to　their　places　and　left　his　hotel。　He　was　fed。　To…day　something　else　would　have　to　happen。

The　plush　hat　cocked　at　a　rakish　angle；　he　walked　abroad　with　something　of　the　old　confident　swagger。　Once　he　doubtfully　fingered　the　sprouting　beard；　but　resolutely　dismissed　a　half…formed　notion　of　finding　out　how　the　Holden　lot　barber　would　regard　a　proposition　from　a　new　patron　to　open　a　charge　account。　If　nothing　worse　than　remaining　unshaven　was　going　to　happen　to　him；　what　cared　he？　The　collar　was　still　pretty　good。　Why　let　his　beard　be　an　incubus？　He　forgot　it　presently　in　noticing　that　the　people　arriving　on　the　Holden　lot　all　looked　so　extremely　well　fed。　He　thought　it　singular　that　he　should　never　before　have　noticed　how　many　well…fed　people　one　saw　in　a　day。

Late　in　the　afternoon　his　explorations　took　him　beyond　the　lower　end　of　his　little　home　street；　and　he　was　attracted　by　sounds　of　the　picture　drama　from　a　rude　board　structure　labelled　the　High　Gear　Dance　Hall。　He　approached　and　entered　with　that　calm　ease　of　manner　which　his　days　on　the　lot　had　brought　to　a　perfect　bloom。　No　one　now　would　ever　suppose　that　he　was　a　mere　sightseer　or　chained　to　the　Holden　lot　by　circumstances　over　which　he　had　ceased　to　exert　the　slightest　control。

The　interior　of　the　High　Gear　Dance　Hall　presented　nothing　new　to　his　seasoned　eye。　It　was　the　dance…hall　made　familiar　by　many　a　smashing　five…reel　Western。　The　picture　was；　quite　normally；　waiting。　Electricians　were　shoving　about　the　big　light　standards；　cameras　were　being　moved；　and　bored　actors　were　loafing　informally　at　the　round　tables　or　chatting　in　groups　abo