East End (London, England) -- Fiction; London (England) -- Social conditions -- Fiction; Social settlements -- Fiction
She always shrugged her shoulders and smiled when people mentioned
Jack’s wife, and when they spoke of him she said “Poor fellow!”
Who could tell that those were the figures of the sum called tragedy?
Not the tragedy of the true-hearted who see through pain the vista of
glory, but that inordinate agony which because it is so solely selfish
eats into the heart that bears it, and for the vista substitutes a
_cul-de-sac_.
Jack and Gladys went to his estate in the country, where they spent some
bad hours, and learned lessons of tolerance. It was, fortunately for
Jack, the hunting season, and he rode hard to hounds. Gladys cultivated
the country people, read a great deal, and took an intelligent interest
in Jack’s “runs.” At the end of the time they could live together quite
comfortably, and avoided the unendurable with the ready forbearance of
quite long married people. The knowing what to avoid is the key to most
things, though it is often difficult to turn.
A son was born to them, making Jack a proud father, and consequently a
good husband. And Gladys found a life more engrossing than her own. She
wrote and asked Muriel to stand godmother.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
“Life’s business being just the terrible choice.”
THERE was trouble at Shindies Alley, not that there was anything unusual
in that! For it was a place where trouble was the commonplace, and what
the comfortable call tragedy almost a nursery rule. Only the trouble was
worse than usual, amounting to the prospect of the police and a possible
murder case in the papers. “Rough Tom” being not quite so drunk as usual
had beaten his wife nearly to death, a thing he had done before, but
never quite so effectually. It was better, the neighbors thought, to
send a boy to the doctor’s, he and the lady at the club had been there
before. This time the doctor arrived first. “Rough Tom” was off, no one
of course knew where. All denied any knowledge of him, though exultingly
willing to report any unnecessary and loathsome details of the row. The
doctor dismissed the crowd curtly. They vanished silently into dark
holes and corners.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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