Innocent : $b a tale of modern lifeOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
Innocent : $b a tale of modern life
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
Innocent trembling, chilled, ignorant, incapable, only half awake, took
the bottle that was pointed out to her, and endeavoured, as she had seen
people do, to drop the liquid into a glass; she failed twice over in her
fright and tremor. Then she kneeled down by the table to try for the
third time, propping herself up against the chair. I don’t know what
thoughts might be passing unconscious through her mind. I don’t think
she was conscious of anything, except the miserable feeling of sudden
waking--the cold, the sense of being beaten down with angry words--and
the frightened attempt to do what she could not do, in obedience to the
fiercest order she had ever received in her life. Where she knelt,
painfully endeavouring to count the drops of the opiate, she was within
reach of Amanda’s arm, who by this time had worked herself into a wild,
shrieking passion. Once more she dashed aside the curtain, and plucked
at Innocent, calling to her with words which had become unintelligible
to the ears of the frightened girl. “Give it me, you fool--give it me,
you fool!” she said, then snatched the glass out of Innocent’s hand, and
lifted it to her lips. Between the fright of the one and the passion of
the other the bottle had been half emptied into the glass. Amanda held
it for a moment in one hand, grasping Innocent with the other, and
trying to recover breath. She was past thinking of any consequences, as
Innocent was past knowing what was happening under her eyes. With a
sudden long effort to regain her breath she put the glass to her panting
lips, and drank it. How much she swallowed no one ever knew; the glass
dropped out of her hand, spilling some dark drops upon the white
coverlid, and Amanda dropped back heavily upon the pillows. Then there
followed such a stillness as seemed to make the whole house, the very
walls, shiver. Innocent, with the little phial clutched in one hand,
with Amanda’s fingers slowly relaxing from the other, stood stupefied,
listening to the horrible stillness. Oh, God, what did it mean?
CHAPTER XXXIII.
FLIGHT.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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