Liza of LambethMaugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
General
Liza of Lambeth
Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
Working class -- England -- Fiction
'Arright, Liza,' he answered, 'I'll do just as you tell me.'
They came to the passage of which Liza spoke; it was a narrow way
between blank walls, the backs of factories, and it led into the upper
end of Vere Street. The entrance to it was guarded by two iron posts
in the middle so that horses or barrows should not be taken through.
They had just got to it when a man came out into the open road. Liza
quickly turned her head away.
'I wonder if 'e see us,' she said, when he had passed out of earshot.
''E's lookin' back,' she added.
'Why, 'oo is it?' asked Jim.
'It's a man aht of our street,' she answered. 'I dunno 'im, but I know
where 'e lodges. D'yer think 'e sees us?'
'Na, 'e wouldn't know 'oo it was in the dark.'
'But he looked round; all the street'll know it if he see us.'
'Well, we ain't doin' no 'arm.'
She stretched out her hand to say good night.
'I'll come a wy with yer along the passage,' said Jim.
'Na, you mustn't; you go straight round.'
'But it's so dark; p'raps summat'll 'appen to yer.'
'Not it! You go on 'ome an' leave me,' she replied, and entering the
passage, stood facing him with one of the iron pillars between them.
'Good night, old cock,' she said, stretching out her hand. He took it,
and said:
'I wish yer wasn't goin' ter leave me, Liza.'
'Garn! I must!' She tried to get her hand away from his, but he held
it firm, resting it on the top of the pillar.
'Leave go my 'and,' she said. He made no movement, but looked into her
eyes steadily, so that it made her uneasy. She repented having come
out with him. 'Leave go my 'and.' And she beat down on his with her
closed fist.
'Liza!' he said, at last.
'Well, wot is it?' she answered, still thumping down on his hand with
her fist.
'Liza,' he said a whisper, 'will yer?'
'Will I wot?' she said, looking down.
'You know, Liza. Sy, will yer?'
'Na,' she said.
He bent over her and repeated--
'Will yer?'
She did not speak, but kept beating down on his hand.
'Liza,' he said again, his voice growing hoarse and thick--'Liza, will
yer?'
She still kept silence, looking away and continually bringing down her
fist. He looked at her a moment, and she, ceasing to thump his hand,
looked up at him with half-opened mouth. Suddenly he shook himself,
and closing his fist gave her a violent, swinging blow in the belly.
'Come on.' he said.
And together they slid down into the darkness of the passage.
8
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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