A Passage to India E. M. Forster (best ereader manga TXT) đ
- Author: E. M. Forster
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When the guests had gone, and Adela gone to bed, there was another interview between mother and son. He wanted her advice and supportâ âwhile resenting interference. âDoes Adela talk to you much?â he began. âIâm so driven with work, I donât see her as much as I hoped, but I hope she finds things comfortable.â
âAdela and I talk mostly about India. Dear, since you mention it, youâre quite rightâ âyou ought to be more alone with her than you are.â
âYes, perhaps, but then peopleâld gossip.â
âWell, they must gossip sometime! Let them gossip.â
âPeople are so odd out here, and itâs not like homeâ âoneâs always facing the footlights, as the Burra Sahib said. Take a silly little example: when Adela went out to the boundary of the club compound, and Fielding followed her. I saw Mrs. Callendar notice it. They notice everything, until theyâre perfectly sure youâre their sort.â
âI donât think Adelaâll ever be quite their sortâ âsheâs much too individual.â
âI know, thatâs so remarkable about her,â he said thoughtfully. Mrs. Moore thought him rather absurd. Accustomed to the privacy of London, she could not realize that India, seemingly so mysterious, contains none, and that consequently the conventions have greater force. âI suppose nothingâs on her mind,â he continued.
âAsk her, ask her yourself, my dear boy.â
âProbably sheâs heard tales of the heat, but of course I should pack her off to the Hills every Aprilâ âIâm not one to keep a wife grilling in the Plains.â
âOh, it wouldnât be the weather.â
âThereâs nothing in India but the weather, my dear mother; itâs the Alpha and Omega of the whole affair.â
âYes, as Mr. McBryde was saying, but itâs much more the Anglo-Indians themselves who are likely to get on Adelaâs nerves. She doesnât think they behave pleasantly to Indians, you see.â
âWhat did I tell you?â he exclaimed, losing his gentle manner. âI knew it last week. Oh, how like a woman to worry over a side-issue!â
She forgot about Adela in her surprise. âA side-issue, a side-issue?â she repeated. âHow can it be that?â
âWeâre not out here for the purpose of behaving pleasantly!â
âWhat do you mean?â
âWhat I say. Weâre out here to do justice and keep the peace. Themâs my sentiments. India isnât a drawing-room.â
âYour sentiments are those of a god,â she said quietly, but it was his manner rather than his sentiments that annoyed her.
Trying to recover his temper, he said, âIndia likes gods.â
âAnd Englishmen like posing as gods.â
âThereâs no point in all this. Here we are, and weâre going to stop, and the countryâs got to put up with us, gods or no gods. Oh, look here,â he broke out, rather pathetically, âwhat do you and Adela want me to do? Go against my class, against all the people I respect and admire out here? Lose such power as I have for doing good in this country because my behaviour isnât pleasant? You neither of you understand what work is, or you âld never talk such eyewash. I hate talking like this, but one must occasionally. Itâs morbidly sensitive to go on as Adela and you do. I noticed you both at the club todayâ âafter the Burra Sahib had been at all that trouble to amuse you. I am out here to work, mind, to hold this wretched country by force. Iâm not a missionary or a Labour Member or a vague sentimental sympathetic literary man. Iâm just a servant of the Government; itâs the profession you wanted me to choose myself, and thatâs that. Weâre not pleasant in India, and we donât intend to be pleasant. Weâve something more important to do.â
He spoke sincerely. Every day he worked hard in the court trying to decide which of two untrue accounts was the less untrue, trying to dispense justice fearlessly, to protect the weak against the less weak, the incoherent against the plausible, surrounded by lies and flattery. That morning he had convicted a railway clerk of overcharging pilgrims for their tickets, and a Pathan of attempted rape. He expected no gratitude, no recognition for this, and both clerk and Pathan might appeal, bribe their witnesses more effectually in the interval, and get their sentences reversed. It was his duty. But he did expect sympathy from his own people, and except from newcomers he obtained it. He did think he ought not to be worried about âBridge Partiesâ when the dayâs work was over and he wanted to play tennis with his equals or rest his legs upon a long chair.
He spoke sincerely, but she could have wished with less gusto. How Ronny revelled in the drawbacks of his situation! How he did rub it in that he was not in India to behave pleasantly, and derived positive satisfaction therefrom! He reminded her of his public-schooldays. The traces of young-man humanitarianism had sloughed off, and he talked like an intelligent and embittered boy. His words without his voice might have impressed her, but when she heard the self-satisfied lilt of them, when she saw the mouth moving so complacently and competently beneath the little red nose, she felt, quite illogically, that this was not the last word on India. One touch of regretâ ânot the canny substitute but the true regret from the heartâ âwould have made him a different man, and the British Empire a different institution.
âIâm going to argue, and indeed dictate,â she said, clinking her rings. âThe English are out here to be pleasant.â
âHow do you make that out, mother?â he asked, speaking gently again, for he was ashamed of his irritability.
âBecause India is part of the earth. And God has put us on the earth in
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