FICTION.

THE THREE LOVERS*

THE opening theme of Mr. Frank Swinnerton's novel is Youth and its buoyant delight in each new discovery of the joys of living, and the author shows great dexterity in conveying to his readers the freshness of new experience. Patricia Quin, the principal figure, is a young girl with a tremendous belief in herself, who has a sum of £200 to spend and hopes before it has gone to earn her living by the short stories, plays, &c., which she writes with considerable facility. But • The Three Lovers. By Frank Swinnerton. London: Methuen. t7s. 6d. net,

the financial aspect of this situation is no more dwelt upon by the author than it is thought about by Patricia, who is in a state of rapture at the emancipation which comes to her through associating with a set of very modern young people who are " no more concerned with strait-laced morals " than she is herself. Patricia has been brought up " in a suburban atmosphere in which anything not perfectly respectable was done in secret," and she is delighted to find that these lines of conduct no longer apply :—

" The young people of her fresh pleasure did not defy : they had forgotten. She became aware of a whole new code. A free spirit she still felt herself, but one in a world of free spirits."

And it must be confessed that the change went to her head not a little. The three men who more or less fall in love with her are carefully drawn. Harry Greenlees is the first, typical of the universal lover, a kind of comparatively innocent

Macheath, " Who sipped each flower, And changed every hour " ; but Patricia does not know this and takes him rather seriously. The second is Monty Rosenberg, a

dilettante of South Hampstead. who gives parties—it must be confessed at the oddest hours—in a marvellously decorated house. He is the feline, predatory male, and Patricia's occasional predilection for him is quite frankly confessed to be the attraction of repulsion and fear. As she is, though self-absorbed, fairly ingenuous, she sustains a horrible shock and is overcome by deadly sickness when Monty loses his head and treats her to an exhibition of uncon- trollable passion. Her third lover is a business man, with whose portrait Mr. Swinnerton has not been so successful.

It is difficult to believe in Edgar Mayne, so incongruous a figure is he in the Rosenberg milieu, where he makes his first

appearance. Patricia's attraction for him is quite credible, but not his for Patricia, unless her subconscious self is really concerned with the financial situation and sees in Edgar the one chance of escape. The background is filled with a crowd of figures, almost all drawn in outline only, but well realized as belonging to the particular group depicted.

As hinted above, the striking thing in the book is the way in which the author has contrived to see the common things of life through the eyes of Patricia. Everything is delightful.

For instance, the romance of a journey in the Tube, so poig- nantly felt by all good Londoners, has seldom been realized in fiction. Here is the account of how Patricia and Harry go back to Chelsea after dining in Soho. " Let's go by Tube," says Patricia as they- leave the restaurant :—

" They came out into Shaftesbury Avenue, which was half deserted now that the omnibuses and the theatres had engulfed so many of those who crowd the street ; and then_ that deluge which had been on the tail of the wind was suddenly released, and poured down so sharply that the two of them had to run to the Piccadilly Circus station. Warmed and laughing, they stood close together in the crowded lift, and plunged 'down into the earth. Echoing passages, vehement advertisements of concerts and theatres, some stairs in a blaze of baffling light ; and they were listening to the distant rumblings of Underground trains.

. . . Their train at this moment burst from the tunnel. They were crushed into it by eager fellow-passengers, and sat blinking in that strained artificial light which is so much more trying to the eyes than the light of the sun. Extraordinary roaring filled their ears. With the crowd and the dazzle and the subterranean re- echoings of violent noise they were dazed and helpless. Impossible to converse. Impossible to think clearly. When they wished to communicate with one another it was only by means of raised voices at each other's ears."

Claudia, Edgar Mayne's sister, is a young lady of very clear sight, and at breakfast one day—surely an intolerable hour to make oneself disagreeable—she sums up the situation as to Patricia's sentimental affairs as follows :—

" I'm not by any means sure that Patricia's . . . well, eager to attract you. She ought to be, because you're the best man she's ever likely to meet. But you can't tell. When a girl's con- ceited, she tries this man and that until she's afraid of missing g the train altogether. And then she lunges, and . . well ! '

This reminds us of the old French description of the coquette who turns down aspirants one by one. " C'etait ceci, c'etait ccla. Enfin elle epouse—un petit monstre." But Patricia has better luck, and the book ends with her engagement to Edgar, with whom the reader is expected to believe she has been unconsciously in love all the time.

It will be seen that the characters of the story are typical alMost to commonplaceness. Yet because of the vividness with which they are depicted the book has freshness and life.

(Fiction continued on page 249.)