'Friends. Oh, Lord! The likes of you and me don't have friends. Women,
they won't know us . . . too good. Except our sort. We can't talk; we
got nothing to talk of, except money and the boys. And the boys, what's
the good of them? There's the sort you pick up and all you've got to
do's to get what you can out of them. Haven't fallen in love with one,
have you?' The girl's voice broke a little, then she went on. 'Then,
there's the other sort, like my Hugo, p'raps you've heard of him?'
'No,' she said, 'I haven't. What is he like?'
'Bless you, he's a beauty.' The girl smiled; her face was full of pride.
'Does he treat you well?'
'So so. Sometimes.' The shadow had returned. 'Not like my first. Oh,
it's hard you know, beginning. He left me with a baby after three
months. I was in service in Pembridge Gardens--such a swell house! I had
to keep baby. It died then, jolly good thing too! Couldn't go back to
service. Everybody knew.'
The girl burst into tears and Victoria putting an arm round her drew her
against her breast.
'Everybody knew, everybody knew!' wailed the girl.
Victoria had the vision of a thousand spectral eyes, all full of
knowledge, gazing at the housemaid caught by them sinning. The girl
rested her head against Victoria's shoulder for a moment, holding one of
her hands. Suddenly she raised her head again and cleared her throat.
'There,' she said, 'let me go. Hugo's waiting for me at the Carcassonne.
Never mind me. We've all got to live, he-he!'
She turned into Regent Street and another 'he-he' floated back. Victoria
felt a heavy weight at her heart; poor girl, weak, the sport of one man,
deceived, then a pirate made to disgorge her gains by another man;
handsome, subtle, playing upon her affections and her fears. What did it
matter? Was she not in the same position, but freer because conscious;
poor slave soul. But the time had come for Victoria to make for the
Vesuvius. 'It must be getting late,' she thought, putting up her hand to
her little gold watch-brooch.
It was gone. She had it on when she left, but it could not have dropped
out, for the lace showed two long rips; it had just been torn out.
Victoria stood frozen for a moment. So this was the result of a first
attempt at love. She recovered, however. She was not going to generalise
from one woman. 'Besides,' she thought bitterly, 'the girl's theories
are the same as mine. She merely has no reservations or hesitations. The
bolder pirate, she is perhaps the better brain.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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