Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Commercial crimes -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Satire
After this there was no more conversation till Ruby reappeared with
the boiled fowl, and without her apron. She was followed by the girl
with a dish of broiled ham and an enormous pyramid of cabbage. Then
the old man got up slowly and opening some private little door of
which he kept the key in his breeches pocket, drew a jug of ale and
placed it on the table. And from a cupboard of which he also kept the
key, he brought out a bottle of gin. Everything being thus prepared,
the three men sat round the table, John Crumb looking at his chair
again and again before he ventured to occupy it. "If you'll sit
yourself down, I'll give you a bit of something to eat," said Ruby
at last. Then he sank at once into his chair. Ruby cut up the fowl
standing, and dispensed the other good things, not even placing a
chair for herself at the table,--and apparently not expected to do
so, for no one invited her. "Is it to be spirits or ale, Mr. Crumb?"
she said, when the other two men had helped themselves. He turned
round and gave her a look of love that might have softened the heart
of an Amazon; but instead of speaking he held up his tumbler, and
bobbed his head at the beer jug. Then she filled it to the brim,
frothing it in the manner in which he loved to have it frothed. He
raised it to his mouth slowly, and poured the liquor in as though to
a vat. Then she filled it again. He had been her lover, and she would
be as kind to him as she knew how,--short of love.
There was a good deal of eating done, for more ham came in, and
another mountain of cabbage; but very little or nothing was said.
John Crumb ate whatever was given to him of the fowl, sedulously
picking the bones, and almost swallowing them; and then finished
the second dish of ham, and after that the second instalment of
cabbage. He did not ask for more beer, but took it as often as
Ruby replenished his glass. When the eating was done, Ruby retired
into the back kitchen, and there regaled herself with some bone or
merry-thought of the fowl, which she had with prudence reserved,
sharing her spoils however with the other maiden. This she did
standing, and then went to work, cleaning the dishes. The men lit
their pipes and smoked in silence, while Ruby went through her
domestic duties. So matters went on for half an hour; during which
Ruby escaped by the back door, went round into the house, got into
her own room, and formed the grand resolution of going to bed. She
began her operations in fear and trembling, not being sure but that
her grandfather would bring the man up-stairs to her. As she thought
of this she stayed her hand, and looked to the door. She knew well
that there was no bolt there. It would be terrible to her to be
invaded by John Crumb after his fifth or sixth glass of beer. And,
she declared to herself, that should he come he would be sure to
bring Joe Mixet with him to speak his mind for him. So she paused and
listened.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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