The Root of All EvilFletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith)
General
The Root of All Evil
Fletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith)
Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction
Albert put a hand to his mouth and coughed. There was something in that
cough that made George start and look more narrowly at his son. And he
suddenly realised that Albert was going to show fight.
"I'll tell you what it is!" said Albert, with the desperate courage of a
weak nature. "I'm goin' to have no more o' that sort o' talk. You seem
to think I'm naught but a mouse, but I'll show you I'm as good a man as
what you are. You forget 'at I've half o' this business--it's mine,
signed and sealed, and naught can do away wi' that--and me and Lucilla's
got her two thousand pounds safe i' t'bank and untouched--we're none
without brass, and I can claim to have t'partnership wound up any time,
and take my lawful share and go elsewhere, and so I will, if there's any
more talk. I did no more nor what any other feller 'ud ha' done when I
gave that ring and wrote them letters--and I'm none bound to stop i'
Savilestowe, neither. Me an' Lucilla----"
The door from the shop opened and Lucilla came in--and George saw at
once what had happened. Between his parlour and the shop there was a
hatchment in the wall, fitted with a small window; hastily glancing
round he saw that the window was open; Lucilla, accordingly, her
cashier's desk being close to the hatchment, had heard all that father
and son had said. And there were danger signals in her cheeks as she
turned on the old grocer.
"No, we're not bound to stop in Savilestowe!" she exclaimed angrily and
pertly. "And stop we shan't if you're going to treat Albert as you do.
You've never been right to him since you paid that money to that woman!
And it's all your fault--you should have paid her something when you
first broke it off; she'd ha' been glad to take five hundred pound then.
And, as Albert says, we've got my two thousand pounds, and his share in
this business, and I'll not have him sat on, neither by you nor anybody,
so there! You stand up to him, Albert. We've had enough of black looks
this last month--it's not our fault if he paid that woman fifteen
hundred pounds!"
Grice looked in amazement at his muttering son and the sharp-tongued
bride--and in that moment learned a good deal that he had never known
before.
"An' it were for you 'at I laid out all that brass in furniture, and
bowt a bran' new pianner!" he said reproachfully. "Well!--there's
neither gratitude nor nowt left i' this world!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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