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He had the title of the picture in his mind: "The Author at Work in the Library, Lower Wyck Manor." Pyecraft waited in deference to Mr. Waddington's hesitation. His man, less delicate but more discerning, was already preparing to adjust the camera. Mr. Waddington turned, like a man torn between personal distaste and public duty, to Barbara. "What do you think, Miss Madden?"
I leant back in my chair. My imagination made one mighty effort and fell flat within me. "What in Heaven's name, Pyecraft," I asked, "do you think you'll look like when you get thin?" He was impervious to reason. I made him promise never to say a word to me about his disgusting fatness again whatever happened never, and then I handed him that little piece of skin. "It's nasty stuff," I said.
And, besides, why does he keep on eternally eating? Well, here goes for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth! Pyecraft . I made the acquaintance of Pyecraft in this very smoking-room. I was a young, nervous new member, and he saw it.
Poor old Pyecraft! Great, uneasy jelly of substance! The fattest clubman in London. He sits at one of the little club tables in the huge bay by the fire, stuffing. What is he stuffing? I glance judiciously, and catch him biting at a round of hot buttered teacake, with his eyes on me. Confound him! with his eyes on me! That settles it, Pyecraft!
The figure is important this time.... Now, sir, if you would be so good as to look up." Mr. Waddington looked up with a face of such extraordinary solemnity that Mr. Pyecraft smiled in spite of his deference. "A leetle brighter expression. As if you had just got an idea." Mr. Waddington imagined himself getting an idea and tried to look like it. "Perfect perfect." Mr.
Waddington's head was reduced to a mere black spot in the far corner. If that was what Pyecraft meant by proportion "I think," he said, "the er the figure is not quite satisfactory." "The ? I see, sir. I did not understand, sir, that you wished the figure." "We-ell " Mr. Waddington didn't like to appear as having wished the figure so ardently as he did indeed wish it. "If I'm to be there at all "
"Loss of weight almost complete." And then, of course, I understood. "By Jove, Pyecraft," said I, "what you wanted was a cure for fatness! But you always called it weight. You would call it weight." Somehow I was extremely delighted. I quite liked Pyecraft for the time. "Let me help you!" I said, and took his hand and pulled him down. He kicked about, trying to get a foothold somewhere.
"Look here," said I to Pyecraft next day, and snatched the slip away from his eager grasp. "So far as I can make it out, this is a recipe for Loss of Weight. And if you take my advice you'll leave it alone. Because, you know I blacken my blood in your interest, Pyecraft my ancestors on that side were, so far as I can gather, a jolly queer lot. See?" "Let me try it," said Pyecraft.
Instead of being a prisoner here you may go abroad again, Pyecraft; you may travel " A still happier idea came to me. "You need never fear a shipwreck. All you need do is just slip off some or all of your clothes, take the necessary amount of luggage in your hand, and float up in the air " In his emotion he dropped the tack-hammer within an ace of my head.
"I think the book would hardly be complete without you." "Very well. You hear, Pyecraft, Miss Madden says I am to be photographed." "Very good, sir." He wheeled sportively. "Now how am I to sit?" "If you would set yourself so, sir. With your papers before you, spread careless, so. And your pen in your hand, so.... A little nearer, Bateman.
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