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- Уильям Сомерсет Моэм
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Mrs
.
Strickland
frowned
a
little
.
She
was
searching
among
her
recollections
.
"
I
remember
before
we
were
married
he
used
to
potter
about
with
a
paint
-
box
.
But
you
never
saw
such
daubs
.
We
used
to
chaff
him
.
He
had
absolutely
no
gift
for
anything
like
that
.
"
"
Of
course
it
’
s
only
an
excuse
,
"
said
Mrs
.
MacAndrew
.
Mrs
.
Strickland
pondered
deeply
for
some
time
.
It
was
quite
clear
that
she
could
not
make
head
or
tail
of
my
announcement
.
She
had
put
some
order
into
the
drawing
-
room
by
now
,
her
housewifely
instincts
having
got
the
better
of
her
dismay
;
and
it
no
longer
bore
that
deserted
look
,
like
a
furnished
house
long
to
let
,
which
I
had
noticed
on
my
first
visit
after
the
catastrophe
.
But
now
that
I
had
seen
Strickland
in
Paris
it
was
difficult
to
imagine
him
in
those
surroundings
.
I
thought
it
could
hardly
have
failed
to
strike
them
that
there
was
something
incongruous
in
him
.
"
But
if
he
wanted
to
be
an
artist
,
why
didn
’
t
he
say
so
?
"
asked
Mrs
.
Strickland
at
last
.
"
I
should
have
thought
I
was
the
last
person
to
be
unsympathetic
to
—
to
aspirations
of
that
kind
.
"
Mrs
.
MacAndrew
tightened
her
lips
.
I
imagine
that
she
had
never
looked
with
approval
on
her
sister
’
s
leaning
towards
persons
who
cultivated
the
arts
.
She
spoke
of
"
culchaw
"
derisively
.
Mrs
.
Strickland
continued
:
"
After
all
,
if
he
had
any
talent
I
should
be
the
first
to
encourage
it
.
I
wouldn
’
t
have
minded
sacrifices
.
I
’
d
much
rather
be
married
to
a
painter
than
to
a
stockbroker
.
If
it
weren
’
t
for
the
children
,
I
wouldn
’
t
mind
anything
.
I
could
be
just
as
happy
in
a
shabby
studio
in
Chelsea
as
in
this
flat
.
"
"
My
dear
,
I
have
no
patience
with
you
,
"
cried
Mrs
.
MacAndrew
.
"
You
don
’
t
mean
to
say
you
believe
a
word
of
this
nonsense
?
"
