The Razor's Edge

This story consists of my recollections

of a very unusual young man with whom I was thrown into contact at long intervals.

In the summer of 1919, while passing through Chicago on my way to the Far East,

a friend of mine, Elliott Templeton,

whom I had known in London and Paris,

invited me to dine with him and his sister, Mrs. Bradley.

They were giving a dinner party at one of those sprawling country clubs,

which were so much a part of the American scene

in the early days of the postwar boom.

- Good evening, sir. - Good evening. Mr. Templeton's table?

- Yes, sir. - Are they here?

They're having refreshments, sir.

- Uh, here you are. - For the dry martini, sir.

- Prohibition. Of all the bloody nonsense. - Elliott.

Yes, dear?

Who is this man that you asked to dinner tonight?

I had to get Sophie at the last minute, or we would have been 13.

He's an English author. He's quite all right. In fact he's quite famous.

So, pretend that you've heard of him, even if you haven't.

That's too much. Get the other glasses.

Elliott, you must be slipping if you frequent authors.

Not at all, my dear. Authors go everywhere nowadays.

Why, in London, I even met actors and actresses in society.

Ah, here he is now.

My dear fellow, how very nice to see you.

Hello, Elliott.

Let me present you to my sister, Mrs. Bradley.

Louisa?

- Louisa, dear. - Hmm?

This is Mr. Somerset Maugham.

How do you do, Mr. Maugham? It's an honor to have you with us.

Thank you. It's very nice to be here.

What on earth are you doing in this benighted city?

I'm... I'm just passing through. But you, Elliott, I thought you never left Paris.

Why should I? In point of fact I came to see my sister and my niece, Isabel.

I haven't been back since before the war.

I hope you don't mind. A few young things are joining us for dinner.

But, uh, we can leave early.

Why should I mind? I like young things if they're good to look at.

Incidentally, you'll meet the young man my niece has got herself engaged to.

His name is Larry Darrell. I might as well tell you that Elliott doesn't approve of him.

I have nothing against him, but he hasn't any money.

My sister's not a rich woman by any means. She needs all she's got.

- I said only this morning... - Is it necessary for you to tell Mr. Maugham

- all our private affairs? - We can't all be millionaires, Elliott.

- He hasn't even got a job. - He can get one, can't he?

- He doesn't want a job. - Why not?

Because he's bone idle.

That must shock a man like you who's never earned a penny in his life.

It may have escaped your notice, my dear fellow, but I am not an ordinary man.

- Cocktail? - Oh, yes, please.

For the run of mankind, industry is essential.

I see no reason why this young man, who my niece has got herself engaged to

should not conform to the customs of his country.

Ah, here's my niece now.

Oh, Mother.

- Hello, Isabel. - Hello.

- Mr. Maugham, this is my daughter, Isabel. - How do you do?

- Where's Larry? - Late.

Oh, poor sweet. I suppose he forgot to wind his watch last night as usual.

You wouldn't know about Larry.

- Say, Mother, you've mixed up the cards. - Oh, Sophie, dear.

Hello, Sophie.

This is Sophie Nelson. Mr. Somerset Maugham.

- Sophie's a neighbor of ours in the country. - How do you do?

- You look charming, Sophie. - Yes, doesn't she?

Excuse us. Come here. I want to have a look at you.

Sophie... Sophie, you look lovely.

It's the dress. You're sure you don't mind my wearing it?

Of course not. If you like it, take it as a present.

Oh, Isabel, that's awfully sweet of you.

Oh, it'd be such a surprise for Bob to see me decently dressed for once.

Oh, you know Bob's much too much in love with you to notice what you wear.

He's no more crazy about me than I am about him.

I don't think anyone ever loved anyone as I love him.

- Isn't it heavenly to be alive? - Yes.

- Hi. - Hello, Gray.

- May I break this up? - Sure.

Hello.

- You look lovely. Uh-huh. - Think so?

- Hello, Sophie. - Hello.

May I get you one, Miss, um... Miss Nelson, isn't it?

- Yes, Sophie Nelson. I'd love it. - Oh, uh...

No. I guess I'd better not.

- Why, what's wrong with cocktails? - Oh, nothing.

Only I promised Bob I wouldn't.

- Who's Bob? - My boyfriend. He doesn't like me to drink.

He thinks I'm too fond of them.

- Which is Bob? - Oh, he isn't here. He's working.

He's putting himself through law school.

He's going to drop in later and take me home.

Will you have one of these? If my man Joseph could see me now,

I give you my word, he'd faint dead away.

You're a great friend of Mr. Templeton's, aren't you?

I wouldn't say that. Elliott has no friends, only acquaintances.

- He's an awful snob, isn't he? - Oh, awful.

But he's kind and generous. People laugh at him behind his back,

but they eat his food and drink his wine.

Oh, Mr. Maugham. Mr. Maugham, you're next to Mother.

Sophie, you're next to Gray at the end of the table.

- That's us, toots. - Mr. Maugham, Mr. Maturin.

- Isabel? Dinner, my dear fellow. - Yes?

Oh, yes.

And, uh, who's Mr. Maturin?

Oh, Gray. He's our millionaire.

His father's a big broker, and we're proud of him.

He gives us class, but he's nice.

I know several girls who'd stop at nothing short of murder to get him.

- They haven't a chance. - Why not?

He's so much in love with Isabel, he can't see straight.

I see. And she's in love with Larry Darrell.

I suppose that does complicate matters.

It does if you're as high-principled as Gray is.

And Larry isn't here?

Oh, yes. He's just coming in now. Way over there. Look.

Come on. Dinner.

This is the young man of whom I write.

He is not famous.

It may be that when his life at last comes to an end,

he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on this earth

than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water.

Yet it may be that the way of life he has chosen for himself,

may have an ever-growing influence over his fellow men

so that long after his death, perhaps,

it may be realized that there lived in this age,

a very remarkable creature.

You're very late, Larry.

- I'm sorry. - Sophie, where's Mr. Maugham?

Evidently, Larry hasn't learned that punctuality is the politeness of kings.

- Elliott. Mr. Maugham, this is Larry Darrell. - How do you do?

When can we start dinner and get this over with...

Mr. Maugham's a novelist.

- Oh? - I may as well tell you

- that Larry's very stupid and uneducated. - Hmm.

He knows nothing about anything except flying.

But when he came back, he looked so lovely in his uniform,

I camped on his doorstep until he consented to marry me.

The competition was awful.

Don't believe a word she says, Mr. Maugham.

Isabel's not a bad girl, but she's a terrible liar.

Dinner.

- Oh, yes. - I've seen you before.

Oh? When?

I happened to have a job of work to do, and I went into the library.

I saw you when I went in there early this morning.

When I came back from lunch, you were still there.

- To tell you the truth, I forgot about lunch. - I couldn't help admiring

- your power of concentration. - It was that kind of a book.

My dear fellow, you're at the end of the table with my sister.

- Hello, Gray. - Hi, there.

Say, Dad tells me you turned down that job in the office.

Oh, Larry. Why have you done that?

I thought it over, and I figured I'd be a disappointment to Gray's father.

- So, I decided I'd better refuse. - Sorry, old man.

It would have been swell, us working together.

Hi, brown eyes. Looks as if tall, dark and legal is standing you up.

I'd like to catch him trying it.

- You're old friends? - We grew up together.

I used to play shortstop on his baseball team.

We used to think we could lick any 10 kids our size.

- Could you? - We tried.

Oh, here comes my young man now.

- Oh, here you are. - Hello.

This is Mr. Maugham. Bob MacDonald.

- How do you do, sir? - How are you?

He's the one who seems to think he wants to marry me.

I can't see why, but there it is.

I just happen to be crazy about the girl.

I wouldn't like him to know, but just between you and me,

I rather like him myself.

Let's dance.

- Hello, Isabel. - Hello.

Larry, why didn't you tell me that Mr. Maturin had offered you a job?

What?

Larry, why didn't you tell me

that Mr. Maturin had offered you a job?

Answer me. Answer me.

I thought I'd better not till I made up my mind one way or another.

- You mad? - Darling, that's the horrible part about you.

However aggravating you are, one can't really be angry with you.

Oh, can't they?

Did you see those looks Uncle Elliott was giving me at dinner?

After all, Larry, a man must work.

The longer you put it off, the harder it'll be.

I've got a foolish notion I want to do more with my life than just sell bonds.

All right, then.

- Go into a law office. - I don't want to do that either.

What do you want to do then?

I don't know.

Loaf maybe.

Oh, Larry, don't be funny.

This is serious.

I'm not being funny. I think it's very serious.

I wouldn't make you miserable for anything.

But you are making me miserable.

You see, I love you.

And I love you, Isabel.

Look, Larry, let's be sensible.

A man must work. It's a matter of self-respect.

This is a young country, and it's a man's duty to take part in its activities.