Jewish fiction; Jews -- New York (State) -- New York -- Fiction; Lower East Side (New York, N.Y.) -- Fiction; Short stories
She went about her work with restlessness. At each step, at each
sound, she started, “Maybe it’s him! Maybe!” She could not fall
asleep at night, but sat up in bed writing and tearing up letters to
him. The only lull to the storm that uprooted her being was in trying
to tell him how every throb within her clamored for him, but the most
heart-piercing cry that she could utter only stabbed her heart with the
futility of words.
In the course of the week it was Shenah Pessah’s duty to clean
Mrs. Stein’s floor. This brought her to Mr. Barnes’s den in his
absence. She gazed about her, calling up his presence at the sight of
his belongings.
“How fine to the touch is the feel from everything his,” she
sighed, tenderly resting her cheek on his dressing-gown. With a timid
hand she picked up a slipper that stood beside his bed and she pressed
it to her heart reverently. “I wish I was this leather thing only
to hold his feet!” Then she turned to his dresser and passed her
hands caressingly over the ivory things on it. “Ach! You lucky
brush--smoothing his hair every day!”
All at once she heard footsteps, and before she could collect her
thoughts, he entered. Her whole being lit up with the joy of his
coming. But one glance at him revealed to her the changed expression
that darkened his face. His arms hung limply at his side--the arms she
expected to stretch out to her and enfold her. As if struck in the face
by his heartless rebuff, she rushed out blindly.
“Just a minute, please,” he managed to detain her. “As a
gentleman, I owe you an apology. That night--it was a passing moment of
forgetfulness. It’s not to happen again--”
Before he had finished, she had run out scorched with shame by his
words.
“Good Lord!” he ejaculated, when he found he was alone. “Who’d
ever think that she would take it so? I suppose there is no use trying
to explain to her.”
For some time he sat on his bed, staring ruefully. Then, springing
to his feet, he threw his things together in a valise. “You’d
be a cad if you did not clear out of here at once,” he muttered to
himself. “No matter how valuable the scientific inquiry might prove
to be, you can’t let the girl run away with herself.”
Shenah Pessah was at the window when she saw John Barnes go out with
his suitcases.
“In God’s name, don’t leave me!” she longed to cry out. “You
are the only bit of light that I ever had, and now it will be darker
and emptier for my eyes than ever before!” But no voice could rise
out of her parched lips. She felt a faintness stunning her senses as
though some one had cut open the arteries of her wrists and all the
blood rushed out of her body.
“Oi weh!” she moaned. “Then it was all nothing to him. Why did
he make bitter to me the little sweetness that was dearer to me than my
life? What means he a gentleman?
“Why did he make me to shame telling me he didn’t mean nothing? Is
it because I’m not a lady alike to him? Is a gentleman only a
make-believe man?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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