London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
“Now the girl’s gone we can chat cozily,” continued the visitor. “I
never talk before my maid, because I don’t want her to talk over me and
my doings with—say yours. I’d rather tell you myself what I want you to
know. You’re not so careful. Your maid talks to mine, mine to me, so
indirectly you’ve told me a good deal about yourself.”
“I’m much obliged to you,” Marian said quietly; “Anne shall leave
to-morrow.”
“I thought it only pally to tell you, but I shouldn’t sack her—they’re
all the same. I don’t let mine know more than I can help, though that’s
more than safe if I annoyed her and she told the old ’un about—the
others. You must have a pretty lonely time of it?”
“It’s a rest to be alone sometimes.”
At first Marian had felt inclined to be angry at this woman having
thrust herself upon her, but curiosity succeeded. She had never spoken
to one of her class before—of her own class, it flashed upon her—and
to do so might prove interesting, possibly also instructive.
“Rest? Oh, yes, I suppose so, but I hate resting. That’s the worst of
being kept by an old josser, he neither gives you any fun himself nor
gives you much chance of getting any with anyone else. But I don’t do so
badly. The certainty of it is the decent part of it. Thank God, he goes
away sometimes, and then I just make up for lost time, _don’t_ I! Your
George——”
“My——!”
“That’s his name, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“He’s all right, just enough and not too much, I should say. You’re only
a beginner, and don’t know yet what we have to put up with and what we
become. Oh! We’re a lively lot, some of us, regular devils. I steer
clear of them as much as I can, but one must talk to a woman sometimes.
At least I must. I hope you don’t mind my coming in this way?”
“Not a bit. Another cup of tea?”
“No, thanks, but if I could have a B. and S. I’d not say ‘No.’”
Marian rang and bade the maid bring the necessaries.
“I liked the look of you,” Mrs. Harding continued, “and it’s pleasant to
have a friendly neighbor; it’s a nuisance to be always going out. It’s a
sickening life sometimes, but I wouldn’t change it for any other. Not to
be a duchess! I did try to settle down once with a man who wanted to
marry me, but it nearly drove me crazy. The love of it’s in my blood.
Yours, too, from the look of you. There’s plenty of fun too. You meet
good sorts as well as bad, and take my tip, when you meet a good sort,
treat him well. It’s funny our living here; I believe everyone else in
the house is straight. Judging by their looks, they can’t have had much
temptation to be otherwise. Their wedding rings ain’t make-believe like
ours. A cigarette? Thanks: This is brandy! Jolly good,” she said,
tasting it; “it’d be a sin to put water in that. Here’s luck!”
She drank the brandy neat, with evident relish.
“What are you going to do to-night? Care to come out with me and dine
somewhere?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I should like to, but I’m engaged to supper.”
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