Jim finished his whisky and took more. Of all those tragic and irritating figures, the one who appeared to him most deplorable and exasperating was Claude, on whom he was living at this moment, and on whom he proposed to live till the end of the month. After that he would no doubt search out some means of living on him further. Rich people were the cows provided for the poorer. It was quite unnecessary, because you fattened on their milk, to like them. You liked their milk, not them. And it was this very thing, this fact of his own indebtedness to his brother-in-law, that made Claude the more insupportable. That Claude was kind and generous, that Dora had married him, aggravated his offence, and the unspeakable meanness of his own relationship to him, in being thus dependent on him, aggravated it further. Yet his own meanness was part of Claude’s offence; he would not have felt like this toward a gentleman. But Claude, as he had said long ago to his mother, was a subtle cad, the worst variety of that distressing species. So he lit another of his cigars.
The butt of the one he had just thrown away had fallen inside the brass fender, and the Persian rug in front of the fender had been pulled a little too far inward, so that its fringe projected inside. The smouldering end fell on to this fringe, and Jim watched it singe the edge of the rug without getting up to take it off, justifying himself the while. The interior of a fender was a proper receptacle for cigar ends, and if the edge of a rug happened to be there too it was not his fault. And the fact that he sat and watched it being singed was wholly and completely symptomatic of his state of mind. He liked seeing even an infinitesimal deterioration of Claude’s property. What business had Claude with prints and Persian rugs and half-filled-in cheque-books? He was generous because the generosity cost him absolutely nothing.
Had Jim been able to hear the conversation that took place in the drawing-room of No. 92 after he and his mother had gone his evil humour would probably have been further accentuated. Lord Osborne started it.
“Well, give me a family party every night,” he said, “and I ask for nothing more, my lady, though, to be sure, I like your grand parties second to none. Dora, my dear, that brother of yours is a sharp fellow. He beat us all at our round game. I hope he’s comfortable in your flat, eh, Claude? You’ve left some cigars and such-like, I hope, so that he won’t wish to turn out, saying there’s more of comfort to be had at his club.”
