The Irrational Knot: Being the Second Novel of His NonageShaw, Bernard
General
The Irrational Knot: Being the Second Novel of His Nonage
Shaw, Bernard
Marriage -- Fiction; Social classes -- Fiction
“Of course I got it, or I shouldnt be here.”
“Well?”
“Well, I dont believe a word of it.”
“That’s plain speaking.”
“There is no use mincing matters. You are just as likely to stop
drinking as you are to stop breathing.”
“Perhaps I shall stop breathing before long.”
“Very likely, at your present rate.”
“That will be a relief to you.”
“It will be a relief to everybody, and a release for yourself. You have
made me miserable for a year past; and now you expect me to be
frightened at the prospect of being rid of you.”
“I dont expect you to be frightened. I expect you to do what all men
do: throw me aside as soon as I have served your turn.”
“Yes. Of course, _you_ are the aggrieved party. Where’s Lucy?”
“I dont know, and I dont care.”
“Well, I want to know; and I do care. Is she at home?”
“How do I know whether she is at home or not. I left her there. Very
likely she is with her Aunt Marian, telling stories about her mother.”
“She is better there than with you. What harm has she done you that you
should talk about her in that way?”
“No harm. I dont object to her being there. She has very pleasant
conversations with Mrs. Ned, which she retails to me at home. ‘Aunty
Marian: why do you never drink champagne? Mamma is always drinking it.’
And then, ‘Mamma: why do you drink so much wine? Aunty Marian never
drinks any.’ Good heavens! the little devil told me this morning by way
of consolation that she always takes care not to tell her Aunty that I
get drunk.”
“What did you do to her for saying it?”
“Dont lose your temper. I didnt strangle her, nor even box her ears.
Why should I? She only repeats what you teach her.”
“She repeats what her eyes and ears teach her. If she learned the word
from me, she learned the meaning from you. A nice lesson for a child
hardly three years old.”
Susanna sat down on a bench, and looked down at her feet. After a few
moments, she tightened her lips; rose; and walked away.
“Hallo! Where are you going to?” said Marmaduke, following her.
“I’m going to get some drink. I have been sober and miserable ever
since I wrote to you. I have not got much thanks for it, except to be
made more miserable. So I’ll get drunk, and be happy.”
“No, you shant,” said Marmaduke, seizing her arm, and forcibly stopping
her.
“What does it matter to you whether I do or not? You say you won’t come
back. Then leave me to go my own way.”
“Here! you sit down,” he said, pushing her into a chair. “I know your
game well enough. You think you have me safe as long as you have the
child.”
“Oh, thats it, is it? Why dont you go out; take a cab; and go to Laurel
Grove for her? There is nothing to prevent you taking her away.”
“I have a good mind to do it.”
“Well, _do_ it. I wont stop you. Why didnt you do it long ago? Her home
is no place for her. I’m not fit to have charge of her. I have no fancy
for having her talking about me, and most likely mimicking me to other
people.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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