"How many did she manage in the end?" asked Mr. Dudley.
"How did Mr. Wharton bear it?" asked Esther.
"Wharton stood it very well," replied Hazard. "He was sitting near her,
and now and then she made a rush at him as though she really meant to
strike him. He never moved, or spoke, or took his eyes away from her. I
think he was overcome by association; he thought himself back in Paris
ten years ago."
"Doubtless this excellent woman has faults, owing to a defective
education," said Mr. Dudley with his usual dry, half-smile. "We must
make allowances for them. I am more curious to know whether she got the
better of my astute brother-in-law."
"Mr. Murray took an unfair advantage over her," said Hazard. "He had
taken the precaution to post a police officer in the next room, and
after the woman had exhausted herself, and I think too had worn off the
effects of the brandy she reeked with, he told her that she would go
instantly to the police station if she did not behave herself. I think
her imagination must have taught her that an American police station
might be something very terrible, for in a few minutes she quieted down
and was only eager for money."
"I suppose Murray means to terrify this poor creature into a sacrifice
of her rights?" said Mr. Dudley.
"Wharton will have to settle an annuity on her, in order to get her back
to Europe and keep her there. In return, she has got to consent to a
divorce. Mr. Murray insists on this as his first condition. Wharton
began to say that she was his wife, and that he was bound to take care
of her, until at last Mr. Murray told him to take himself off or he
would have no more to do with the case. So the woman, on receiving some
money on the spot, consents to deal with Mr. Murray directly, on his
terms, and Wharton leaves town till the papers are drawn up and the
woman packed off. He has had a shock which will prevent his working for
some time."
"He may not feel like painting saints," said Mr. Dudley, "but I should
think he was in good form for painting sinners. Is there no room for a
Jezebel in your portrait gallery?"
Mr. Dudley was too weak for late hours and Hazard went away early. As he
went he said he would come again to tell them the next chapter, if there
was one.
"Be quick about it!" said Mr. Dudley. "I am like the Sultan who cut off
his wives' heads because they would not tell him stories fast enough. It
is not convenient for me to wait."
To Esther this evening was the last when the stars shone bright and
clear. The next morning her glimpse of blue sky had vanished and the
rigor of the storm began.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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