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"
Too
bad
,
too
bad
,
"
said
Henry
Foster
,
sympathizing
with
the
Arch
-
Community
-
Songster
.
"
It
may
interest
you
to
know
that
our
ex
-
Director
was
on
the
point
of
transferring
him
to
Iceland
.
"
Pierced
by
every
word
that
was
spoken
,
the
tight
balloon
of
Bernard
’
s
happy
self
-
confidence
was
leaking
from
a
thousand
wounds
.
Pale
,
distraught
,
abject
and
agitated
,
he
moved
among
his
guests
,
stammering
incoherent
apologies
,
assuring
them
that
next
time
the
Savage
would
certainly
be
there
,
begging
them
to
sit
down
and
take
a
carotene
sandwich
,
a
slice
of
vitamin
A
pâté
,
a
glass
of
champagne
-
surrogate
.
They
duly
ate
,
but
ignored
him
;
drank
and
were
either
rude
to
his
face
or
talked
to
one
another
about
him
,
loudly
and
offensively
,
as
though
he
had
not
been
there
.
"
And
now
,
my
friends
,
"
said
the
Arch
-
Community
-
Songster
of
Canterbury
,
in
that
beautiful
ringing
voice
with
which
he
led
the
proceedings
at
Ford
’
s
Day
Celebrations
,
"
Now
,
my
friends
,
I
think
perhaps
the
time
has
come
.
.
.
"
He
rose
,
put
down
his
glass
,
brushed
from
his
purple
viscose
waistcoat
the
crumbs
of
a
considerable
collation
,
and
walked
towards
the
door
.
Bernard
darted
forward
to
intercept
him
.
"
Must
you
really
,
Arch
-
Songster
?
.
.
.
It
’
s
very
early
still
.
I
’
d
hoped
you
would
.
.
.
"
Yes
,
what
hadn
’
t
he
hoped
,
when
Lenina
confidentially
told
him
that
the
Arch
-
Community
-
Songster
would
accept
an
invitation
if
it
were
sent
.
"
He
’
s
really
rather
sweet
,
you
know
.
"
And
she
had
shown
Bernard
the
little
golden
zipper
-
fastening
in
the
form
of
a
T
which
the
Arch
-
Songster
had
given
her
as
a
memento
of
the
week
-
end
she
had
spent
at
Lambeth
.
To
meet
the
Arch
-
Community
-
Songster
of
Canterbury
and
Mr
.
Savage
.
Bernard
had
proclaimed
his
triumph
on
every
invitation
card
.
But
the
Savage
had
chosen
this
evening
of
all
evenings
to
lock
himself
up
in
his
room
,
to
shout
"
Háni
!
"
and
even
(
it
was
lucky
that
Bernard
didn
’
t
understand
Zuñi
)
"
Sons
éso
tse
?
ná
!
"
What
should
have
been
the
crowning
moment
of
Bernard
’
s
whole
career
had
turned
out
to
be
the
moment
of
his
greatest
humiliation
.
"
I
’
d
so
much
hoped
.
.
.
"
he
stammeringly
repeated
,
looking
up
at
the
great
dignitary
with
pleading
and
distracted
eyes
.
"
My
young
friend
,
"
said
the
Arch
-
Community
-
Songster
in
a
tone
of
loud
and
solemn
severity
;
there
was
a
general
silence
.
"
Let
me
give
you
a
word
of
advice
.
"
He
wagged
his
finger
at
Bernard
.
"
Before
it
’
s
too
late
.
A
word
of
good
advice
.
"
(
His
voice
became
sepulchral
.
)
"
Mend
your
ways
,
my
young
friend
,
mend
your
ways
.
"
He
made
the
sign
of
the
T
over
him
and
turned
away
.
"
Lenina
,
my
dear
,
"
he
called
in
another
tone
.
"
Come
with
me
.
"
