Mrs. Hall appeared after an interval, a little short of breath, but all
the fiercer for that. Hall was still out. She had deliberated over this
scene, and she came holding a little tray with an unsettled bill upon
it. “Is it your bill you’re wanting, sir?” she said.
“Why wasn’t my breakfast laid? Why haven’t you prepared my meals and
answered my bell? Do you think I live without eating?”
“Why isn’t my bill paid?” said Mrs. Hall. “That’s what I want to know.”
“I told you three days ago I was awaiting a remittance—”
“I told you two days ago I wasn’t going to await no remittances. You
can’t grumble if your breakfast waits a bit, if my bill’s been waiting
these five days, can you?”
The stranger swore briefly but vividly.
“Nar, nar!” from the bar.
“And I’d thank you kindly, sir, if you’d keep your swearing to
yourself, sir,” said Mrs. Hall.
The stranger stood looking more like an angry diving-helmet than ever.
It was universally felt in the bar that Mrs. Hall had the better of
him. His next words showed as much.
“Look here, my good woman—” he began.
“Don’t ‘good woman’ _me_,” said Mrs. Hall.
“I’ve told you my remittance hasn’t come.”
“Remittance indeed!” said Mrs. Hall.
“Still, I daresay in my pocket—”
“You told me three days ago that you hadn’t anything but a sovereign’s
worth of silver upon you.”
“Well, I’ve found some more—”
“’Ul-lo!” from the bar.
“I wonder where you found it,” said Mrs. Hall.
That seemed to annoy the stranger very much. He stamped his foot. “What
do you mean?” he said.
“That I wonder where you found it,” said Mrs. Hall. “And before I take
any bills or get any breakfasts, or do any such things whatsoever, you
got to tell me one or two things I don’t understand, and what nobody
don’t understand, and what everybody is very anxious to understand. I
want to know what you been doing t’my chair upstairs, and I want to
know how ’tis your room was empty, and how you got in again. Them as
stops in this house comes in by the doors—that’s the rule of the house,
and that you _didn’t_ do, and what I want to know is how you _did_ come
in. And I want to know—”
Suddenly the stranger raised his gloved hands clenched, stamped his
foot, and said, “Stop!” with such extraordinary violence that he
silenced her instantly.
“You don’t understand,” he said, “who I am or what I am. I’ll show you.
By Heaven! I’ll show you.” Then he put his open palm over his face and
withdrew it. The centre of his face became a black cavity. “Here,” he
said. He stepped forward and handed Mrs. Hall something which she,
staring at his metamorphosed face, accepted automatically. Then, when
she saw what it was, she screamed loudly, dropped it, and staggered
back. The nose—it was the stranger’s nose! pink and shining—rolled on
the floor.
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