Dramatists -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction; Theater -- Fiction
Mrs. Harley, whoever she was, under a name that Louise electrically
decided to be fictitious, seemed unable to find her voice at first in
their mutual defiance, and she made a pretence of letting her strange
eyes rove about the shop before she answered. Her presence was so
repugnant to Louise that she turned abruptly and hurried out of the
place without returning the good-morning which the German sent after
her with the usual addition of her name. She resented it now, for if it
was not tantamount to an introduction to that creature, it was making
her known to her, and Louise wished to have no closer acquaintance with
her than their common humanity involved. It seemed too odious to have
been again made aware that they were inhabitants of the same planet, and
the anger that heaved within her went out in a wild flash of resentment
towards her husband for having forever fixed that woman in her
consciousness with a phrase. If it had not been for that, she would not
have thought twice of her when they first saw her, and she would not
have known her when they met again, and at the worst would merely have
been harassed with a vague resemblance which would never have been
verified.
She had climbed the stairs to their apartment on the fourth floor, when
she felt the need to see more, know more, of this hateful being so
strong upon her, that she stopped with her latch-key in her door and
went down again. She did not formulate her intention, but she meant to
hurry back to the provision store, with the pretext of changing her
order, and follow the woman wherever she went, until she found out where
she lived; and she did not feel, as a man would, the disgrace of
dogging her steps in that way so much as she felt a fatal dread of her.
If she should be gone by the time Louise got back to the shop, she would
ask the provision man about her, and find out in that way. She stayed a
little while to rehearse the terms of her inquiry, and while she
lingered the woman herself came round the corner of the avenue and
mounted the steps where Louise stood and, with an air of custom, went on
upstairs to the second floor, where Louise heard her putting a latch-key
into the door, which then closed after her.
XIII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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