Wix like a blow in the stomach. She
had evidently never thought of it; but she could think and rebound. "If
she is, he's equally your father."
Maisie, however, thought further. "Then my father and my mother--!"
But she had already faltered and Mrs. Wix had already glared back:
"Ought to live together? Don't begin it AGAIN!" She turned away with
a groan, to reach the washing-stand, and Maisie could by this time
recognise with a certain ease that that way verily madness did lie. Mrs.
Wix gave a great untidy splash, but the next instant had faced round.
"She has taken a new line."
"She was nice to you," Maisie concurred.
"What SHE thinks so--'go and dress the young lady!' But it's something!"
she panted. Then she thought out the rest. "If he won't have her, why
she'll have YOU. She'll be the one."
"The one to keep me abroad?"
"The one to give you a home." Mrs. Wix saw further; she mastered all the
portents. "Oh she's cruelly clever! It's not a moral sense." She reached
her climax: "It's a game!"
"A game?"
"Not to lose him. She has sacrificed him--to her duty."
"Then won't he come?" Maisie pleaded.
Mrs. Wix made no answer; her vision absorbed her. "He has fought. But
she has won."
"Then won't he come?" the child repeated.
Mrs. Wix made it out. "Yes, hang him!" She had never been so profane.
For all Maisie minded! "Soon--to-morrow?"
"Too soon--whenever. Indecently soon."
"But then we SHALL be together!" the child went on.
Pages:
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289