“We followed till she turned into the gate av a little house that stud
near the Edwardes's Gate. There was two girls in the verandah, an' they
ran in whin they saw us. Faith, at long eye-range ut did not take me a
wink to see fwhat kind av house ut was. The throops bein' there an' all,
there was three or four such, but aftherwards the polis bade them go.
At the verandah Love-o'-Women sez, catchin' his breath, 'Stop here,'
an' thin, an' thin, wid a grunt that must ha' tore the heart up from his
stomach, he swung himself out av the doolie, an' my troth he stud up on
his feet wid the sweat pourin' down his face. If Mackie was to walk in
here now I'd be less tuk back than I was thin. Where he'd dhrawn his
power from, God knows or the divil--but 't was a dead man walkin' in the
sun wid the face av a dead man and the breath av a dead man held up by
the Power, an' the legs an' the arms of the carpse obeyin' ordhers!
“The woman stud in the verandah. She'd been a beauty too, though her
eyes was sunk in her head, an' she looked Love-o'-Women up an' down
terrible. 'An',' she sez, kickin' back the tail av her habit,--'An','
she sez, 'fwhat are you doin' here, married man?'
“Love-o'-Women said nothin', but a little froth came to his lips, an'
he wiped ut off wid his hand an' looked at her an' the paint on her, an'
looked, an' looked, an' looked.
“'An' yet,' she sez, wid a laugh. (Did you hear Mrs. Raines laugh whin
Mackie died? Ye did not? Well for you.) 'An' yet,' she sez, 'who but you
have betther right,' sez she. 'You taught me the road. You showed me the
way,' she sez. 'Ay, look,' she sez, 'for 'tis your work; you that tould
me--d'you remimber it?--that a woman who was false to wan man cud be
false to two. I have been that,' she sez, 'that an' more, for you always
said I was a quick learner, Ellis. Look well,' she sez, 'for it is
me that you called your wife in the sight av God long since!' An' she
laughed.
“Love-o'-Women stud still in the sun widout answerin'. Thin he groaned
an' coughed to wanst, an' I thought 'twas the death-rattle, but he
niver tuk his eyes off her face not for a wink. Ye cud ha' put her
eyelashes through the flies av an E. P. tent, they were so long.
“'Fwhat do you do here?' she sez, word by word, 'that have taken away my
joy in my man this five years gone--that have broken my rest an' killed
my body an' damned my soul for the sake av seem' how 'twas done? Did
your expayrience aftherwards bring you acrost any woman that gave more
than I did? Wud I not ha' died for you an' wid you, Ellis? Ye know that,
man! If ever your lyin' sowl saw truth in uts life ye know that.'
“An' Love-o'-Women lifted up his head and said, 'I knew,' an' that was
all. While she was spakin' the Power hild him up parade-set in the 'sun,
an the sweat dhropped undher his helmet. 'Twas more an' more throuble
for him to talk, an' his mouth was runnin' twistways.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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