The Trembling of a Leaf: Little Stories of the South Sea IslandsMaugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
General
The Trembling of a Leaf: Little Stories of the South Sea Islands
Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
Oceania -- Fiction
But Lawson, driven forth blindly, stumbled through the plantation and
suddenly exhausted, weak as a child, flung himself on the ground at the
foot of a tree. He was miserable and ashamed. He thought of Ethel, and
in the yielding tenderness of his love all his bones seemed to grow soft
within him. He thought of the past, and of his hopes, and he was aghast
at what he had done. He wanted her more than ever. He wanted to take her
in his arms. He must go to her at once. He got up. He was so weak that
he staggered as he walked. He went into the house and she was sitting in
their cramped bedroom in front of her looking-glass.
"Oh, Ethel, forgive me. I'm so awfully ashamed of myself. I didn't know
what I was doing."
He fell on his knees before her and timidly stroked the skirt of her
dress.
"I can't bear to think of what I did. It's awful. I think I was mad.
There's no one in the world I love as I love you. I'd do anything to
save you from pain and I've hurt you. I can never forgive myself, but
for God's sake say you forgive me."
He heard her shrieks still. It was unendurable. She looked at him
silently. He tried to take her hands and the tears streamed from his
eyes. In his humiliation he hid his face in her lap and his frail body
shook with sobs. An expression of utter contempt came over her face. She
had the native woman's disdain of a man who abased himself before a
woman. A weak creature! And for a moment she had been on the point of
thinking there was something in him. He grovelled at her feet like a
cur. She gave him a little scornful kick.
"Get out," she said. "I hate you."
He tried to hold her, but she pushed him aside. She stood up. She began
to take off her dress. She kicked off her shoes and slid the stockings
off her feet, then she slipped on her old Mother Hubbard.
"Where are you going?"
"What's that got to do with you? I'm going down to the pool."
"Let me come too," he said.
He asked as though he were a child.
"Can't you even leave me that?"
He hid his face in his hands, crying miserably, while she, her eyes hard
and cold, stepped past him and went out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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