Adventure stories; City and town life -- Fiction; Staffordshire (England) -- Fiction
A short silence. He noticed that she had offered no explanation of her
conduct towards himself. She seemed to take it for granted that he
would understand.
"I ’m frightfully bumped, and I believe my nose is bleeding," said Ruth,
still more plaintively. "It’s a good thing there was a lot of straw and
sacks here."
Then, after much groping, his hand touched her wet dress.
"You know you ’re a very naughty girl," he said.
He heard a sob, a wild sob. The proud, independent creature had broken
down under the stress of events. He climbed out of the water on to the
part of the table which she was not occupying. And the van was as black
as Erebus.
Gradually, out of the welter of sobs, came faint articulations, and
little by little he learnt the entire story of her difficulties, her
misfortunes, her struggles, and her defeats. He listened to a frank
confession of guilt. But what could she do? She had meant well. But
what could she do? She had been driven into a corner. And she had her
father to think of! Honestly, on the previous day, she had intended to
pay the rent, or part of it. But there had been a disappointment! And
she had been so unwell. In short....
The van gave a lurch. She clutched at him and he at her. The van was
settling down for a comfortable night in the mud.
(Queer that it had not occurred to him before; but at the first visit
she had postponed paying him on the plea that the bank was closed; while
at the second visit she had stated that the actual cash had been slowly
accumulating in her desk. And the discrepancy had not struck him! Such
is the influence of a tea-gown. However, he forgave her, in
consideration of her immense audacity.)
"What can we do?" she almost whispered. Her confidence in him affected
him.
"Wait till it gets light," said he.
So they waited, amid the waste of waters. In a hot July it is not
unpleasant to dangle one’s feet in water during the sultry dark hours.
She told him more and more.
When the inspiring grey preliminaries of the dawn began, Denry saw that
at the back of the pantechnicon the waste of waters extended for at most
a yard, and that it was easy, by climbing on to the roof, to jump
therefrom to the wharf. He did so; and then fixed a plank so that Ruth
could get ashore. Relieved of their weight the table floated out after
them. Denry seized it, and set about smashing it to pieces with his
feet.
"What _are_ you doing?" she asked faintly. She was too enfeebled to
protest more vigorously.
"Leave it to me," said Denry. "This table is the only thing that can
give your show away. We can’t carry it back. We might meet some one."
He tied the fragments of the table together with rope that was afloat in
the van, and attached the heavy iron bar whose function was to keep the
doors closed. Then he sank the faggot of wood and iron in a distant
corner of the basin.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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