Town Traveller

George Gissing

Description

Typically known for his hard-hitting works of social realism, such as the novel New Grub Street, the publication of The Town Traveller represented something of a departure for Victorian-era novelist George Gissing. Not only is the novel markedly different in style and tone from Gissing's previous work, but it outsold all of his other publications by a significant measure and lifted him from semi-obscurity to the upper echelons of literary acclaim. Packed with intrigue and emotional heft, The Town Traveller is an engrossing read for fans of nineteenth-century fiction.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775450412
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE TOWN TRAVELLER
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GEORGE GISSING
 
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The Town Traveller First published in 1898 ISBN 978-1-775450-41-2 © 2010 The Floating Press
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
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Contents
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Chapter I - Mr. Gammon Breakfasts in Bed Chapter II - A Missing Uncle Chapter III - The China Shop Chapter IV - Polly and Mr. Parish Chapter V - A Nondescript Chapter VI - The Head Waiter at Chaffey's Chapter VII - Polly's Wrath Chapter VIII - Mr. Gammon's Resolve Chapter IX - Polly's Defiance Chapter X - The Storming of the Fort Chapter XI - The Nose of the Trefoyles Chapter XII - Polly Condescends Chapter XIII - Gammon the Crafty Chapter XIV - Mr. Parish Pursues a Brougham Chapter XV - The Name of Gildersleeve Chapter XVI - An Ally in the Quest Chapter XVII - Polly Shows Weakness Chapter XVIII - Lord Polperro's Representative Chapter XIX - Not in the Secret Chapter XX - The Husband's Return Chapter XXI - His Lordship's Will Chapter XXII - New Year's Eve Chapter XXIII - His Lordship Retires Chapter XXIV - The Traveller's Fickleness and Fraud Chapter XXV - The Missing Word Chapter XXVI - A Double Event Chapter XXVII - The Traveller at Rest
Chapter I - Mr. Gammon Breakfasts in Bed
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Moggie, the general, knocked at Mr. Gammon's door, and was answered bya sleepy "Hallo?"
"Mrs. Bubb wants to know if you know what time it is, sir? 'Cos it'shalf-past eight an' more."
"All right!" sounded cheerfully from within. "Any letters for me?"
"Yes, sir; a 'eap."
"Bring 'em up, and put 'em under the door. And tell Mrs. Bubb I'll havebreakfast in bed; you can put it down outside and shout. And I say,Moggie, ask somebody to run across and get me a 'Police News' and'Clippings' and 'The Kennel'—understand? Two eggs, Moggie, and threerashers, toasted crisp—understand?"
As the girl turned to descend a voice called to her from another roomon the same floor, a voice very distinctly feminine, rather shrill, anda trifle imperative.
"Moggie, I want my hot water-sharp!"
"It ain't nine yet, miss," answered Moggie in a tone of remonstrance.
"I know that—none of your cheek! If you come up here hollering atpeople's doors, how can anyone sleep? Bring the hot water at once, andmind it is hot."
"You'll have to wait till it gits 'ot, miss."
" Shall I? If it wasn't too much trouble I'd come out and smack yourface for you, you dirty little wretch!"
The servant—she was about sixteen, and no dirtier than became herposition—scampered down the stairs, burst into the cellar kitchen, andin a high, tearful wail complained to her mistress of the indignity shehad suffered. There was no living in the house with that Miss Sparkes,who treated everybody like dirt under her feet. Smack her face, wouldshe? What next? And all because she said the water would have to be' otted . And Mr. Gammon wanted his breakfast in bed, and—and—why,there now, it had all been drove out of her mind by that Miss Sparkes.
Mrs. Bubb, the landlady, was frying some sausages for her first-floorlodgers; as usual at this hour she wore (presumably over some invisibleclothing) a large shawl and a petticoat, her thin hair, black streakedwith grey, knotted and pinned into a ball on the top of her head. Hereand there about the kitchen ran four children, who were snatching asort of picnic breakfast whilst they made ready for school. They lookedhealthy enough, and gabbled, laughed, sang, without heed to the elderfolk. Their mother, healthy too, and with no ill-natured face-a slow,dull, sluggishly-mirthful woman of a common London type-heard Moggieout, and shook up the sausages before replying.
"Never you mind Miss Sparkes; I'll give her a talkin' to when she comesdown. What was it as Mr. Gammon wanted? Breakfast in bed? And whatelse? I never see such a girl for forgetting!"
"Well, didn't I tell you as my 'ead had never closed the top!" urgedMoggie in plaintive key. "How can I 'elp myself?"
"Here, take them letters up to him, and ask again; and if Miss Sparkessays anything don't give her no answer—see? Billy, fill the bigkettle, and put it on before you go. Sally, you ain't a-goin' to schoolwithout brushin' your 'air? Do see after your sister, Janey, an' don'tlet her look such a slap-cabbage. Beetrice, stop that 'ollerin'; itfair mismerizes me!"
Having silently thrust five letters under Mr. Gammon's door, Moggiegave a very soft tap, and half whispered a request that the lodgerwould repeat his orders. Mr. Gammon did so with perfect good humour. Assoon as his voice had ceased that of Miss Sparkes sounded from theneighbouring bedroom.
"Is that the water?"
For the pleasure of the thing Moggie stood to listen, an angry grin onher flushed face.
"Moggie!—I'll give that little beast what for! Are you there?"
The girl made a quick motion with both her hands as if clawing anenemy's face, then coughed loudly, and went away with a sound ofstamping on the thinly-carpeted stairs. One minute later Miss Sparkes'door opened and Miss Sparkes herself rushed forth—a startling visionof wild auburn hair about a warm complexion, and a small, brisk figuregirded in a flowery dressing-gown. She called at the full pitch of hervoice for Mrs. Bubb.
"Do you hear me? Mrs. Bubb, have the kindness to send me up my hotwater immejately! This moment, if you please!"
There came an answer, but not from the landlady. It sounded so near toMiss Sparkes that she sprang back into her room.
"Patience, Polly! All in good time, my dear. Wrong foot out of bed thismorning?"
Her door slammed, and there followed a lazy laugh from Mr. Gammon'schamber.
In due time the can of hot water was brought up, and soon after it camea tray for Mr. Gammon, on which, together with his breakfast, lay thethree newspapers he had bespoken. Polly Sparkes throughout herleisurely toilet was moved to irritation and curiosity by the sound offrequent laughter on the other side of the party wall—uproariouspeals, long chucklings in a falsetto key, staccato bursts of mirth.
"That is the comic stuff in 'Clippings,'" she said to herself with aninvoluntary grin. "What a fool he is! And why's he staying in bed thismorning? Got his holiday, I suppose. I'd make better use of it thanthat."
She came forth presently in such light and easy costume as befitted ayoung lady of much leisure on a hot morning of June. Meaning to pass anhour or two in quarrelling with Mrs. Bubb she had arrayed herself thusearly with more care than usual, that her colours and perfumes mightthrow contempt upon the draggle-tailed landlady, whom, by the by, shehad known since her childhood. On the landing, where she paused for amoment, she hummed an air, with the foreseen result that Mr. Gammoncalled out to her.
"Polly!"
She vouchsafed no answer.
"Miss Sparkes!"
"Well?"
"Will you come with me to see my bow-wows this fine day?"
"No, Mr. Gammon, I certainly will not!"
"Thank you, Polly, I felt a bit afraid you might say yes."
The tone was not offensive, whatever the words might be, and the laughthat came after would have softened any repartee, with its undernote ofgood humour and harmless gaiety. Biting her lips to preserve thedignity of silence, Polly passed downstairs. Sunshine through a landingwindow illumined the dust floating thickly about the staircase andheated the familiar blend of lodging-house smells—the closeness ofsmall rooms that are never cleansed, the dry rot of wall-paper,plaster, and old wood, the fustiness of clogged carpets trodden thin,the ever-rising vapours from a sluttish kitchen. As Moggie happened tobe wiping down the front steps the door stood open, affording a glimpseof trams and omnibuses, cabs and carts, with pedestrians bobbing pastin endless variety—the life of Kennington Road—all dust and sweatunder a glaring summer sun. To Miss Sparkes a cheery and invitingspectacle—for the whole day was before her, to lounge or ramble untilthe hour which summoned her to the agreeable business of sellingprogrammes at a fashionable theatre. The employment was precarious;even with luck in the way of tips it meant nothing very brilliant; butsomething had happened lately which made Polly indifferent to this viewof the matter. She had a secret, and enjoyed it all the more because itenabled her to excite not envy alone, but dark suspicions in the peoplewho observed her.
Mrs. Bubb, for instance—who so far presumed upon old acquaintance asto ask blunt questions, and offer homely advice—plainly thought shewas going astray. It amused Polly to encourage this misconception, andto take offence on every opportunity. As she went down into the kitchenshe fingered a gold watch-chain that hung from her blouse to a littlepocket at her waist. Mrs. Bubb would spy it at once, and in course ofthe quarrel about this morning's hot water would be sure to allude toit.
It turned out one of the finest frays Polly had ever enjoyed, and wasstill rich in possibilities when, at something past eleven, the kitchendoor suddenly opened and there entered Mr. Gammon.
Chapter II - A Missing Uncle
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He glanced at Mrs. Bubb, at the disorderly remnants of breakfast on thelong deal table, then at Polly, whose face was crimson with the joy ofcombat.
"Don't let me interrupt you, ladies. Blaze away! if I may so expressmyself. It does a man good to see such energy on a warm morning."
"I've said all I'm a-goin' to say," exclaimed Mrs. Bubb, as she moppedher forehead with a greasy apron. "I've warned her, that's all, and Imean her well, little as she deserves it. Now, you, Moggie, don't standgahpin' there git t