Mary dressed herself and went out for the provisions, but she did not
buy them at once. As she went down the street she turned suddenly,
clasping her hands in a desperate movement, and walked very quickly
in the opposite direction. She turned up the side streets to the
quays, and along these to the Park Gates. Her hands were clasping and
unclasping in an agony of impatience, and her eyes roved busily here
and there, flying among the few pedestrians like lanterns. She went
through the gates and up the broad central path, and here she walked
more slowly: but she did not see the flowers behind the railings, or
even the sunshine that bathed the world in glory. At the monument she
sped a furtive glance down the road she had traveled--there was nobody
behind her. She turned into the fields, walking under trees which she
did not see, and up hills and down valleys without noticing the
incline of either. At times, through the tatter of her mind there
blazed a memory of her mother lying sick at home, waiting for her
daughter to return with food, and at such memories she gripped her
hands together frightfully and banished the thought.--A moment's
reflection and she could have hated her mother.
It was nearly five o'clock before she left the Park. She walked in a
fog of depression. For hours she had gone hither and thither in the
well-remembered circle, every step becoming more wayward and aimless.
The sun had disappeared, and a gray evening bowed down upon the
fields; the little wind that whispered along the grass or swung the
light branches of the trees had a bleak edge to it. As she left the
big gates she was chilled through and through, but the memory of her
mother now set her running homewards. For the time she forgot her
quest among the trees and thought only, with shame and fear, of what
her mother would say, and of the reproachful, amazed eyes which would
be turned on her when she went in. What could she say? She could not
imagine anything. How could she justify a neglect which must appear
gratuitous, cold-blooded, inexplicable?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account