She said it in a queer, half- hearted way, with a try at a smile— as she might have said it, I thought, if she had just found out that Gentleman had swindled her out of two or three shillings at cards. I guessed she was thinking about Maud's fortune, and how it might be cut. I couldn't help but wish that, after all, the money was nothing to her. I said,
'Will you make me go?' The words came out like a whisper. I looked away from her, about the kitchen— at the old Dutch clock on the shelf, and the pictures on the walls.
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On the floor by the door to
the stairs was the white china chamber-pot, with the dark eye in it, from my own room, that must have been brought down to be washed and then forgotten. I would not have forgotten it. On the table beneath my hand was a heart: I had scratched it into the wood, the summer before. I had been like a child still, then. I had been like an infant— I looked about me again. Why were there no babies? The kitchen was still.
Everyone was still, and watching me.
'Will you make me go,' I said again to Mrs Sucksby, 'and let her stay?' Now my voice was broken as a boy's. 'Will you trust them, not to send Dr Christie to me? Will you—
Will you take her gowns, will you take the pins from her head, will you kiss her, will you let her sleep beside you in my old place, while I lie in a bed with— with red hairs in it?'
'Sleep beside me?' said Mrs Sucksby quickly. 'Who told you that?'
'Red hairs?'said John.
But Maud had lifted her head, her gaze grown sharp. 'You have watched us!' she said.
And then, when she had thought it through: At the shutter!'
'I've watched you,' I answered, more strongly. 'I've watched you, you spider! taking everything of mine. You would rather do that— God damn you!— than sleep with your own husband!'
'Sleep with— with Richard?' She looked astounded. 'You don't suppose— ?'
'Susie,' said Mrs Sucksby, putting her hand upon me.
'Sue,' said Maud at the same time, leaning across the table and also reaching for me.
'You don't suppose him anything to me? You don't think him a husband to me, in anything but name? Don't you know I hate him? Don't you know I hated him, at Briar?'
'Will you make out now,' I said, in a kind of trembling scorn, 'that you only did what you did because he made you?'
'He did make me!— But, not in the way you mean.'
I said, 'Will you pretend, that you aren't a swindling cheat?'
She said, 'Will you?'
And again, she held my gaze; and again, I was almost shamed by it, and looked away.
Then after a moment I said, more quietly,
'I hated it. I didn't smile, with him, when your back was turned.'
'You think I did?'
'Why not? You are an actress.-You are acting now!'
'Am I?'
She said it, still with her eyes on my face, still with her hand reaching for mine but falling short of taking it. The light was all upon us, the rest of the kitchen almost dark.
I looked at her fingers. They were marked with dirt, or bruised. I said,
'If you hated him, why did you do it?'
'There was no other way,' she said. 'You saw my life. I needed you, to be me.'
'So you might come here, and be me!1 She did not answer. I said, 'We might have cheated him. If you had told me. We might have— '
'What?'
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'Anything. Something. I don't know what. . .'
She shook her head. 'How much,' she asked quietly, 'would you have given up?'
Her gaze was so dark, yet so steady and true; but I grew aware, all at once, of Mrs Sucksby— of John and Dainty, Mr Ibbs— all of them, watching, silent and curious, thinking, What's this . . .? And in that moment, I saw into my own cowardly heart and knew that I would have given up nothing for her, nothing at all; and that, sooner than be shamed by her now, I would die.
She reached again. Her fingers brushed my wrist. I took up the knife and jabbed at her hand.
'Don't touch me!' I said, as I did it. I got to my feet. 'Don't any of you touch me!' My voice was wild. 'Not any of you! Do you hear me? I came back here, thinking this my home; now you want to cast me out again. I hate you all! I wish I had stayed in the country!'
I looked from face to face. Dainty had begun to cry. John sat, open-mouthed and astonished. Mr Ibbs had his hand at his cheek. Maud nursed her bleeding fingers.
Charles shook. Mrs Sucksby said,
'Sue, put down the knife. Cast you out? The idea! I— '
Then she stopped. Charley Wag had lifted his head. From Mr
Ibbs's shop there came the sound of a key, turning in a lock. Then came the kicking of boots; then whistling.
'Gentleman!' she said. She looked at Maud, at Mr Ibbs, at me. She got up, and leaned to catch at my arm. 'Sue,' she said, as she did it. She spoke in a voice that was almost a whisper. 'Susie, sweetheart, will you come upstairs . . .?'
But I did not answer, only gripped the knife more firmly. Charley Wag gave a feeble bark, and Gentleman heard him, and barked in reply. Then he whistled again, a lazy waltz tune, and we heard him stumbling along the passage and watched as he pushed at the door. I think he was drunk. His hat was crooked, his cheek quite pink, his mouth a perfect O. He stood, and slightly swayed, and looked about the room, squinting into the shadows. The whistle died. His lips grew straight, and he licked them.
'Hallo,' he said, 'here's Charles.' He winked. Then he looked at me, and at my knife.
'Hallo, here's Sue.' He took off his hat and began to unwind the scarlet cloth from his throat. 'I supposed you might come. Had you left it another day, I should have been ready. I have just now collected a letter, from that fool Christie. He certainly dragged his heels, in letting me know of your escape! I think he planned to recapture you before he should have to. Bad publicity, when one's lady lunatics run.'
He put the scarlet cloth inside the hat and let them drop. He took out a cigarette.
'You're fucking cool,' I said. I was shaking. 'Here's Mrs Sucksby and Mr Ibbs, know everything.'
He laughed. 'I should say they do.'
'Gentleman!' said Mrs Sucksby. 'Listen to me. Sue has told us terrible things. I want you to go.'
'Don't let him leave!' I said. 'He'll send for Dr Christie!' I waved my knife. 'Charles, stop him!'
Gentleman had lit his cigarette, but apart from that had not moved. He turned to look 319
at Charles, who had taken a couple of doubtful steps towards him. He put his hand to Charles's hair.
'So, Charley,' he said.
'Please, sir,' said Charles.
'You have found me out a villain.'
Charles's lip began to tremble. 'Honest to God, Mr Rivers, I never meant to!'
'There, there,' said Gentleman. He stroked Charles's cheek. Mr Ibbs made a puffing sound with his lips. John got to his feet, then looked about him as if he did not know why he had done it. He blushed.
'Sit down, John,' said Mrs Sucksby.
He folded his arms. 'I shall stand if I like.'
'Sit down, or I'll hit you.'
'Hit me?' His voice was hoarse. 'Hit them two, there!' He pointed to Gentleman and Charles. Mrs Sucksby took two quick steps, and struck him. She struck him hard. He put both his arms to his head and gazed at her from between his elbows.
'You old cow!' he said. 'You been down on me since the day I was born. You touch me again, you'll know it!'
His eyes blazed as he said it; but then, they filled with tears and he began to snivel. He walked to the wall, and kicked it. Charles shuddered and wept harder. Gentleman looked from one to the other, then gazed at Maud in pretend amazement.
'Is it down to me,' he said, 'that small boys weep?'
'Fuck you, I ain't small!' said John.
'Will you be quiet?' said Maud, in her low, clear voice. 'Charles, that's enough.'