Of Human Bondage W. Somerset Maugham (epub e reader txt) 📖

and the girls in his department said they would not be surprised if he married one of the rich customers. He lived out of town and often impressed the assistants by putting on his evening clothes in the office. Sometimes he would be seen by those on sweeping duty coming in next morning still dressed, and they would wink gravely to one another while he went into his office and changed into a frock coat. On these occasions, having slipped out for a hurried breakfast, he also would wink at Philip as he walked up the stairs on his way back and rub his hands.

“What a night! What a night!” he said. “My word!”

He told Philip that he was the only gentleman there, and he and Philip were the only fellows who knew what life was. Having said this, he changed his manner suddenly, called Philip Mr. Carey instead of old boy, assumed the importance due to his position as buyer, and put Philip back into his place of shop-walker.

Lynn and Sedley received fashion papers from Paris once a week and adapted the costumes illustrated in them to the needs of their customers. Their clientele was peculiar. The most substantial part consisted of women from the smaller manufacturing towns, who were too elegant to have their frocks made locally and not sufficiently acquainted with London to discover good dressmakers within their means. Beside these, incongruously, was a large number of music-hall artistes. This was a connection that Mr. Sampson had worked up for himself and took great pride in. They had begun by getting their stage-costumes at Lynn’s, and he had induced many of them to get their other clothes there as well.

“As good as Paquin and half the price,” he said.

He had a persuasive, hail-fellow well-met air with him which appealed to customers of this sort, and they said to one another:

“What’s the good of throwing money away when you can get a coat and skirt at Lynn’s that nobody knows don’t come from Paris?”

Mr. Sampson was very proud of his friendship with the popular favourites whose frocks he made, and when he went out to dinner at two o’clock on Sunday with Miss Victoria Virgo⁠—“she was wearing that powder blue we made her and I lay she didn’t let on it come from us, I ’ad to tell her meself that if I ’adn’t designed it with my own ’ands I’d have said it must come from Paquin”⁠—at her beautiful house in Tulse Hill, he regaled the department next day with abundant details. Philip had never paid much attention to women’s clothes, but in course of time he began, a little amused at himself, to take a technical interest in them. He had an eye for colour which was more highly trained than that of anyone in the department, and he had kept from his student days in Paris some knowledge of line. Mr. Sampson, an ignorant man conscious of his incompetence, but with a shrewdness that enabled him to combine other people’s suggestions, constantly asked the opinion of the assistants in his department in making up new designs; and he had the quickness to see that Philip’s criticisms were valuable. But he was very jealous, and would never allow that he took anyone’s advice. When he had altered some drawing in accordance with Philip’s suggestion, he always finished up by saying:

“Well, it comes round to my own idea in the end.”

One day, when Philip had been at the shop for five months, Miss Alice Antonia, the well-known seriocomic, came in and asked to see Mr. Sampson. She was a large woman, with flaxen hair, and a boldly painted face, a metallic voice, and the breezy manner of a comedienne accustomed to be on friendly terms with the gallery boys of provincial music-halls. She had a new song and wished Mr. Sampson to design a costume for her.

“I want something striking,” she said. “I don’t want any old thing you know. I want something different from what anybody else has.”

Mr. Sampson, bland and familiar, said he was quite certain they could get her the very thing she required. He showed her sketches.

“I know there’s nothing here that would do, but I just want to show you the kind of thing I would suggest.”

“Oh no, that’s not the sort of thing at all,” she said, as she glanced at them impatiently. “What I want is something that’ll just hit ’em in the jaw and make their front teeth rattle.”

“Yes, I quite understand, Miss Antonia,” said the buyer, with a bland smile, but his eyes grew blank and stupid.

“I expect I shall ’ave to pop over to Paris for it in the end.”

“Oh, I think we can give you satisfaction, Miss Antonia. What you can get in Paris you can get here.”

When she had swept out of the department Mr. Sampson, a little worried, discussed the matter with Mrs. Hodges.

“She’s a caution and no mistake,” said Mrs. Hodges.

“Alice, where art thou?” remarked the buyer, irritably, and thought he had scored a point against her.

His ideas of music-hall costumes had never gone beyond short skirts, a swirl of lace, and glittering sequins; but Miss Antonia had expressed herself on that subject in no uncertain terms.

“Oh, my aunt!” she said.

And the invocation was uttered in such a tone as to indicate a rooted antipathy to anything so commonplace, even if she had not added that sequins gave her the sick. Mr. Sampson “got out” one or two ideas, but Mrs. Hodges told him frankly she did not think they would do. It was she who gave Philip the suggestion:

“Can you draw, Phil? Why don’t you try your ’and and see what you can do?”

Philip bought a cheap box of water colours, and in the evening while Bell, the noisy lad of sixteen, whistling three notes, busied himself with his stamps, he made one or two sketches. He remembered some of the costumes he had seen in Paris, and he adapted one of them, getting his effect from a combination of violent, unusual colours. The