The Canadian: Photoplay title of The Land of PromiseMaugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
General
The Canadian: Photoplay title of The Land of Promise
Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
Attitude change -- Fiction; Canada -- Fiction; Farm life -- Fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction
"Did you hear what I said?"
"I did."
"Then why don't you do as I tell you?"
"Because I don't choose to."
"You ain't taking long to try it out, are you?" His face wore an ugly
sneer.
"They say there's no time like the present."
"Are you going to wash up them things?"
"No."
There was a moment's silence while he held her eyes with his. Then, very
slowly and deliberately he got up, poured some boiling water into a pan
and placed it, together with a ragged dishcloth, on the table.
"Are you going to wash up them things?"
"No."
She was still cool and smiling: only, her grip on the knob of the door
had tightened until the nails of her fingers were white.
"Do you want me to make you?"
"How can you do that?"
"I'll soon show you."
She waited the fraction of a moment.
"I'll just get out those rugs, shall I? I think the holdall was put in
here. I expect it gets very cold toward morning."
She had opened the door now and stepped across the threshold. Her face
was still turned toward his, but her smile was a little fixed.
"Nora."
"Yes."
"Come here."
"Why?"
"Because I tell you to."
Still, she did not move. In two strides he was over at her side. He
stretched out his hand to seize her by the wrist.
"You daren't touch me!"
She pulled the door to sharply and stood with her back against it,
facing him. Her face was as white as a linen mask, and about as
expressionless. Only her eyes lived. Anger and fear had enlarged the
pupils until they seemed black in the dead white of her face.
"You daren't!" she repeated.
"I daren't: who told you that?"
"Have you forgotten that I'm a woman?"
"No, I haven't. That's why I'm going to make you do as I tell you. If
you were a man, I mightn't be able to. Come, now."
He made a movement to take her by the arm, but she was too quick for
him. With the quickness of a cat, she slipped aside. The next moment, to
his astonishment, he felt a stinging blow on the ear. He stared at her
dumbfounded. It is safe to hazard that never in his life had he been so
utterly taken aback.
She met his stare without lowering her glance. But she was panting now
as if she had been running, one clenched hand pressed against her
heaving breast.
He gave a short laugh, half of amused admiration at her daring, and half
of anger.
"That was a darned silly thing to do!"
"What did you expect?"
"I expected that you were cleverer than to hit me. You ought to know
that when it comes to--to muscle, I guess I've got the bulge on you."
"I'm not frightened of you."
It was a stupid thing to say. Nora realized it too late. If she had only
been able to hold her tongue, he might have relented, she thought. But
at her words, his face hardened once more and the same steely glitter
came into his eyes. "Now come and wash up these things."
"I won't, I tell you!"
"Come on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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