bitch having her fleas removed. Tony Bring kept his eyes on Hildred, on the pale yellow prongs in her hand wandering lovingly through the blue-black moss. His thoughts followed vindictively. . . .
It had been decidedâHildred had decided itâthat Vanya would stay overnight. The lights were extinguished. Vanyalay in one bed, he in the other. They had only to stretch their arms to join hands. Hildred moved about uneasily.
A struggle was going on. They were all struggling togetherâstruggling with each other, struggling with themselves, struggling desperately not to struggle. Presently, like a wave that has traveled from under the rim of the horizon, Hildred flung herself between them. As she leaned over to kiss him goodnight, her body all flowers and moonlight, he felt a sickening desire to strangle her.
Now and again he opened his eyes and stared at the swooning figures huddled in the cloudy mass of bedclothes. Vanyaâs head floated in a pool of ink on Hildredâs bosom. Her bare arm hung in a lazy coil over Hildredâs billowy form. It was a strong, massive limb whose weight rested on the body of his wife like an anvil.
In the morning they invited him to have breakfast with them. He yielded as an invalid submits to the attentions of a nurse. The breakfast was an ordeal. He felt that he was in the way. The world was not big enough to contain the three of them. On the way to the subway they talked excitedly about a multitude of disconnected things. They pretended to be calm and unconcerned; they talked without saying anything, they listened to each other without understanding a word.
In the subway Hildred regained her self-possession. She stared about her with insolent defiance, raised her voice immoderately, and shouted things that one usually whispers, provided one has the temerity to mention them at all in public. With a devastating glance she would single out a face and analyze its background of vice or hypocrisy; elderly women especially, on whose features pity and horrorwere commingled, she challenged with ribald laughter and a malicious glare that made them wince. Vanya carried herself with the dignity of a ridiculous statue.
Emerging from the subway they ran straight into Willie Hyslop and his friends. Tony Bring tried to stand aside, but Vanya took him by the arm and introduced him ceremoniously. The situation reminded him of what a skeptic must endure when he is given extreme unction.
He listened attentively as the two called Toots and Ebba recounted their exploits. They had an alert, bristling air, like a pair of Airedales sniffing each other. They were attractive, too, in a bestial way. The nipples of their breasts pushed through their jerseys like fistulas.
At the door of the Caravan he drew Hildred aside and spoke to her in an undertone. She was out of sorts.
âBut why did you do it?â he insisted. âThatâs all Iâm asking. Canât you answer me that?â
Hildred was watching Vanya out of the corner of her eye. She explained very lamely that it would have been embarrassing to climb into bed with him in the presence of another woman. That got him. âYou call that punk a woman?â he said hoarsely. Her face darkened. She began to brazen it out. Finally she took to calling him names. A look of pain came into his eyes. He felt sorry for her, and for himself, for everyone in the world who had to suffer when it was so unnecessary to suffer.
Suddenly, with a furtive gesture, she pressed his hand. âCanât we talk it over later?â she begged. So softly she said it, as if she were actually down on her knees before him.
He thought a moment. He wanted to be decent and fair about it. Maybe, as she had said, he
was
making a mountainout of a molehill. The devil knew, he wasnât certain anymore of what he was doing.
The others were watching now. She drew her hand away quickly.
âAll right,â he said, âweâll talk about it later.
It had been decidedâHildred had decided itâthat Vanya would stay overnight. The lights were extinguished. Vanyalay in one bed, he in the other. They had only to stretch their arms to join hands. Hildred moved about uneasily.
A struggle was going on. They were all struggling togetherâstruggling with each other, struggling with themselves, struggling desperately not to struggle. Presently, like a wave that has traveled from under the rim of the horizon, Hildred flung herself between them. As she leaned over to kiss him goodnight, her body all flowers and moonlight, he felt a sickening desire to strangle her.
Now and again he opened his eyes and stared at the swooning figures huddled in the cloudy mass of bedclothes. Vanyaâs head floated in a pool of ink on Hildredâs bosom. Her bare arm hung in a lazy coil over Hildredâs billowy form. It was a strong, massive limb whose weight rested on the body of his wife like an anvil.
In the morning they invited him to have breakfast with them. He yielded as an invalid submits to the attentions of a nurse. The breakfast was an ordeal. He felt that he was in the way. The world was not big enough to contain the three of them. On the way to the subway they talked excitedly about a multitude of disconnected things. They pretended to be calm and unconcerned; they talked without saying anything, they listened to each other without understanding a word.
In the subway Hildred regained her self-possession. She stared about her with insolent defiance, raised her voice immoderately, and shouted things that one usually whispers, provided one has the temerity to mention them at all in public. With a devastating glance she would single out a face and analyze its background of vice or hypocrisy; elderly women especially, on whose features pity and horrorwere commingled, she challenged with ribald laughter and a malicious glare that made them wince. Vanya carried herself with the dignity of a ridiculous statue.
Emerging from the subway they ran straight into Willie Hyslop and his friends. Tony Bring tried to stand aside, but Vanya took him by the arm and introduced him ceremoniously. The situation reminded him of what a skeptic must endure when he is given extreme unction.
He listened attentively as the two called Toots and Ebba recounted their exploits. They had an alert, bristling air, like a pair of Airedales sniffing each other. They were attractive, too, in a bestial way. The nipples of their breasts pushed through their jerseys like fistulas.
At the door of the Caravan he drew Hildred aside and spoke to her in an undertone. She was out of sorts.
âBut why did you do it?â he insisted. âThatâs all Iâm asking. Canât you answer me that?â
Hildred was watching Vanya out of the corner of her eye. She explained very lamely that it would have been embarrassing to climb into bed with him in the presence of another woman. That got him. âYou call that punk a woman?â he said hoarsely. Her face darkened. She began to brazen it out. Finally she took to calling him names. A look of pain came into his eyes. He felt sorry for her, and for himself, for everyone in the world who had to suffer when it was so unnecessary to suffer.
Suddenly, with a furtive gesture, she pressed his hand. âCanât we talk it over later?â she begged. So softly she said it, as if she were actually down on her knees before him.
He thought a moment. He wanted to be decent and fair about it. Maybe, as she had said, he
was
making a mountainout of a molehill. The devil knew, he wasnât certain anymore of what he was doing.
The others were watching now. She drew her hand away quickly.
âAll right,â he said, âweâll talk about it later.
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