Damaged Goods: The great play "Les avariés" by Brieux, novelized with the approval of the authorSinclair, Upton
General
Damaged Goods: The great play "Les avariés" by Brieux, novelized with the approval of the author
Sinclair, Upton
Sexually transmitted diseases -- Fiction
“Listen to me, nurse,” said the young man. “Only a little while ago you
were afraid that we would send you away. You were satisfied with the
wages which my mother had fixed. In addition to those wages we had
promised you a good sum when you returned to your home. Now you tell
us that you want to go away. You see? All at once. There must be some
reason; let us understand it. There must certainly be a reason. Has
anybody done anything to you?”
“No, sir,” said the woman, dropping her eyes.
“Well, then?”
“I have thought it over.”
George burst out, “Don’t go on repeating always the same thing--‘I have
thought it over!’ That’s not telling us anything.” Controlling himself,
he added, gently, “Come, tell me why you want to go away?”
There was a silence. “Well?” he demanded.
“I tell you, I have thought--”
George exclaimed in despair, “It’s as if one were talking to a block of
wood!”
His mother took up the conversation again. “You must realize, you have
not the right to go away.”
The woman answered, “I WANT to go.”
“But I will not let you leave us.”
“No,” interrupted George angrily, “let her go; we cannot fasten her
here.”
“Very well, then,” cried the exasperated mother, “since you want to go,
go! But I have certainly the right to say to you that you are as stupid
as the animals on your farm!”
“I don’t say that I am not,” answered the woman.
“I will not pay you the month which has just begun, and you will pay
your railroad fare for yourself.”
The other drew back with a look of anger. “Oho!” she cried. “We’ll see
about that!”
“Yes, we’ll see about it!” cried George. “And you will get out of here
at once. Take yourself off--I will have no more to do with you. Good
evening.”
“No, George,” protested his mother, “don’t lose control of yourself.”
And then, with a great effort at calmness, “That cannot be serious,
nurse! Answer me.”
“I would rather go off right away to my home, and only have my five
hundred francs.”
“WHAT?” cried George, in consternation.
“What’s that you are telling me?” exclaimed Madame Dupont.
“Five hundred francs?” repeated her son.
“What five hundred francs?” echoed the mother.
“The five hundred francs you promised me,” said the nurse.
“We have promised you five hundred francs? WE?”
“Yes.”
“When the child should be weaned, and if we should be satisfied with
you! That was our promise.”
“No. You said you would give them to me when I was leaving. Now I am
leaving, and I want them.”
Madame Dupont drew herself up, haughtily. “In the first place,” she
said, “kindly oblige me by speaking to me in another tone; do you
understand?”
The woman answered, “You have nothing to do but give me my money, and I
will say nothing more.”
George went almost beside himself with rage at this. “Oh, it’s like
that?” he shouted. “Very well; I’ll show you!” And he sprang to the door
and opened it.
But the nurse never budged. “Give me my five hundred francs!” she said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account