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TEXT 22. MR. KNOW-ALL
W.S. Maugham
Once I
was going by ship from
San-Francisco toYokohama. I shared
my cabin with a man called Mr.Kelada.
He was short and of a sturdy build,
сlean-shaven and dark-skinned, with a
hooked nose and very large liquid eyes.
His long black hair was curly. And
though he introduced himself as an Englishman I felt sure
that he was
born under a bluer sky than is generally
seen in England. Mr. Kelada
was chatty. He talked of New York and of San Francisco. He discussed
plays, pictures and politics. He was familiar. Though I was a total
stranger to him he used no such formality
1
as to
put mister before my
name when he addressed me. I didn't
like Mr. Kelada. I not only
shared a cabin with him and ate three meals a day at the same table,
but I couldn't walk round the deck without his joining me. It was
impossible to snub him. It never occurred to him that
he was not
wanted. He was certain that you were
as glad to see him as he was
glad to see you. In your own
house you might have kicked him
downstairs and slammed the door in his face.
Mr. Kelada was a good mixer, and in three
days knew everyone on
board. He ran everything. He conducted the auctions, collected money
for prizes at the sports, organized the concert and arranged the fancy-
dress ball.
He was everywhere and always. He was certainly the best-
hated man in the ship. We called him Mr. Know-All
, even to his face.
He took it as a compliment. But it was at meal times that he was most
intolerable: He knew everything better than anybody else and you
couldn't disagree with him. He would not drop a subject till he had
brought you round to his way of thinking. The possibility that he could
be mistaken never occurred to him.
We were four at the table: the doctor, I, Mr. Kelada and Mr.
Ramsay.
Ramsay was in the American Consular Service, and was stationed
at Kobe. He was a great heavy fellow. He was on his way back to
resume his post, having been on a flying visit to New York to fetch his
wife, who had been spending a year at home. Mrs. Ramsay was a very
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pretty little thing with pleasant manners and a sense of humour. She was
dressed always
very simply, but she knew how to wear her clothes.
One evening at dinner the conversation by chance drifted to the
subject of pearls. There was some argument between Mr. Kelada and
Ramsay about the value of culture and real pearls. I did not believe
Ramsay knew anything about the subject at all. At last Mr. Kelada got
furious and shouted: "Well, I know what I am talking about. I'm going to
Japan just to look into this Japanese pearl business. I'm in the trade. I
know the best pearls in the world, and what I don't know about pearls
isn't worth knowing."
Here was news for us, for Mr. Kelada had never told anyone what
his business was. Ramsay leaned forward.
"That's a pretty chain, isn't it?" he asked pointing to the chain that
Mrs. Ramsay wore.
"I noticed it at once," answered Mr. Kelada. "Those are pearls all
right."
"I didn't buy it myself, of course," said Ramsay. "I wonder how
much you think it cost."
"Oh, in the trade somewhere round fifteen thousand dollars. But if
it was bought on Fifth Avenue anything up to thirty thousand was paid
for it."
Ramsay smiled. "You'll be surprised to hear that Mrs. Ramsay
bought that string the day before we left New York for eighteen dollars.
I'll bet you a hundred dollars it's imitation."
"Done."
"But how can it be proved?" Mrs. Ramsay asked. "Let me look at
the chain and if it's imitation I'll tell you quickly enough. I can afford to
lose
a hundred dollars," said Mr. Kelada.
The chain was handed to Mr. Kelada. He took a magnifying glass
from his pocket and closely examined it. A smile of triumph spread over
his face. He was about to speak. Suddenly he saw Mrs. Ramsay's face. It
was so white that she looked as if she were about to faint
2
. She was
staring at him with wide and terrified eyes. Mr. Kelada stopped with his
mouth open. He flushed deeply. You could almost see the effort he was
making over himself. "I was mistaken," he said. "It's a very good
imitation." He took a hundred-dollar note out of his pocket and handed it
to Ramsay without a word. "Perhaps that'll teach you a lesson," said
Ramsay as he took the note. I noticed that Mr. Kelada's hands were
trembling.
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The story spread over the ship. It was a fine joke that Mr. Know-
All had been caught out. But Mrs. Ramsay went to her cabin with a
headache.
Next morning I got up and began to shave. Suddenly I saw a letter
pushed under the door. I opened the door and looked out. There was
nobody there. I picked up the letter and saw that it was addressed to Mr.
Kelada. I handed it to him. He took out of the envelope a hundred-dollar
note. He looked at me and reddened. "Were the pearls real?" I asked. "If
I had a pretty little wife I shouldn't let her spend a year in New York
while I stayed at Kobe," said he.
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