-
‘At it again. Cryin’ - always cryin’.’ Then, again, with a sudden change, ‘What brings you here, I say - what brings you here?’
Katey lifted her head, and looked at him pleadingly through her tears. ‘Come home, Jerry; come home.’
‘I’ll not go home. Go you home and don’t dare to watch or follow me again. Out of this, I say - out of this.’
‘Oh, Jerry, Jerry, don’t send me away to-night. Oh, Jerry, you’re hurting me; indeed you are. I’ll go quietly. Do let me go, Jerry. Look at all the men. It is ashamed of my life I am.’
‘Out of this, I say.’
‘Oh, Jerry, come home.’
For answer Jerry lifted his hand and struck her in the face. The blow was a severe one, but Katey did not seem to feel it. The pain in her heart at the spirit which prompted the blow was so great that no outward pain would have touched her for the moment. With the courage and resolution of utter despair - for what could now be worse since Jerry had struck her - she clung to him, crying almost wildly -
‘Come home, come home.’
Jerry dashed her aside, and ran over to the counter.
‘Give me brandy,’ he said to Grinnell, ‘quick, man, give me brandy.’
Grinnell was in nowise backward, and gave him as he desired. He drank off two or three glasses one after the other despite all Katey could do to prevent him.
After this his coming home was a matter of mere labour, for he got too drunk to stand or to think, and lay on the floor like a log.
Katey looked round appealingly for help. Sebright and Mons, the only two men whom she knew, had both disappeared, for both of them retained sufficient pride to make them anxious to avoid the gaze of the injured woman. The help came from an unexpected quarter. Grinnell, who had hitherto been leaning complacently across the bar, came from behind it, and said very gently -
‘Let me help you.’
Katey was so anxious about Jerry that she did not notice the strangeness of the offer coming from such a man, but answered gratefully —
‘Oh, thank you, sir. God will bless you.’
Grinnell smiled softly to himself, but Katey did not see the smile.
The pot-boy was sent for a cab, and, when it came, was put in charge of the bar, whilst Grinnell helped Katey to take home her husband. There was lots of assistance to put him into the cab, but, as she could not get him out herself, Grinnell went with her himself. When the vehicle began to move, Grinnell said softly -
‘This is a very sad affair.’
‘Oh, sad indeed,’ sighed Katey.
‘I wish to God,’ said Grinnell, with intensity of voice, ‘that I had known of you before. Your husband would not have got drink in my house.’
‘God bless you, sir, for these words. Oh, you will help me to keep him straight now, will you not?’
‘I will.’
‘You see,’ said Katey, feeling that a palliation of her husband’s conduct was necessary, ‘the poor fellow has had much trouble and sorrow, and he was badly treated at the theatre.’
‘I know it - I know it,’ said Grinnell, with indignation. ‘Didn’t the whole neighbourhood ring with it, and the people cry shame on old Meredith. Why, I couldn’t stand it, and it was no business of mine. I only wished to see justice. I amn’t so bad as I look. I went to him, and says I - “Look you here, sir,” says I, “you’re doin’ wrong. Here’s the best workman in London, and the best fellow, too,” says I, “and you’re losin’ him and doin’ a wrong thing. And don’t you expect to gain by it,” says I, “for wickedness never prospers,” says I, “and I tell you what,” says I, “some of the other theatres will get hold of him, and then won’t you be sorry. I have a good deal of influence,” says I, “and I’ll use it all for him” ‘ -
He was going on thus when the cab stopped. He helped Katey to lift out Jerry, and between them they carried him up to the room.
Grinnell waited a few minutes only, and said good night to Katey in a most friendly
‘At it again. Cryin’ - always cryin’.’ Then, again, with a sudden change, ‘What brings you here, I say - what brings you here?’
Katey lifted her head, and looked at him pleadingly through her tears. ‘Come home, Jerry; come home.’
‘I’ll not go home. Go you home and don’t dare to watch or follow me again. Out of this, I say - out of this.’
‘Oh, Jerry, Jerry, don’t send me away to-night. Oh, Jerry, you’re hurting me; indeed you are. I’ll go quietly. Do let me go, Jerry. Look at all the men. It is ashamed of my life I am.’
‘Out of this, I say.’
‘Oh, Jerry, come home.’
For answer Jerry lifted his hand and struck her in the face. The blow was a severe one, but Katey did not seem to feel it. The pain in her heart at the spirit which prompted the blow was so great that no outward pain would have touched her for the moment. With the courage and resolution of utter despair - for what could now be worse since Jerry had struck her - she clung to him, crying almost wildly -
‘Come home, come home.’
Jerry dashed her aside, and ran over to the counter.
‘Give me brandy,’ he said to Grinnell, ‘quick, man, give me brandy.’
Grinnell was in nowise backward, and gave him as he desired. He drank off two or three glasses one after the other despite all Katey could do to prevent him.
After this his coming home was a matter of mere labour, for he got too drunk to stand or to think, and lay on the floor like a log.
Katey looked round appealingly for help. Sebright and Mons, the only two men whom she knew, had both disappeared, for both of them retained sufficient pride to make them anxious to avoid the gaze of the injured woman. The help came from an unexpected quarter. Grinnell, who had hitherto been leaning complacently across the bar, came from behind it, and said very gently -
‘Let me help you.’
Katey was so anxious about Jerry that she did not notice the strangeness of the offer coming from such a man, but answered gratefully —
‘Oh, thank you, sir. God will bless you.’
Grinnell smiled softly to himself, but Katey did not see the smile.
The pot-boy was sent for a cab, and, when it came, was put in charge of the bar, whilst Grinnell helped Katey to take home her husband. There was lots of assistance to put him into the cab, but, as she could not get him out herself, Grinnell went with her himself. When the vehicle began to move, Grinnell said softly -
‘This is a very sad affair.’
‘Oh, sad indeed,’ sighed Katey.
‘I wish to God,’ said Grinnell, with intensity of voice, ‘that I had known of you before. Your husband would not have got drink in my house.’
‘God bless you, sir, for these words. Oh, you will help me to keep him straight now, will you not?’
‘I will.’
‘You see,’ said Katey, feeling that a palliation of her husband’s conduct was necessary, ‘the poor fellow has had much trouble and sorrow, and he was badly treated at the theatre.’
‘I know it - I know it,’ said Grinnell, with indignation. ‘Didn’t the whole neighbourhood ring with it, and the people cry shame on old Meredith. Why, I couldn’t stand it, and it was no business of mine. I only wished to see justice. I amn’t so bad as I look. I went to him, and says I - “Look you here, sir,” says I, “you’re doin’ wrong. Here’s the best workman in London, and the best fellow, too,” says I, “and you’re losin’ him and doin’ a wrong thing. And don’t you expect to gain by it,” says I, “for wickedness never prospers,” says I, “and I tell you what,” says I, “some of the other theatres will get hold of him, and then won’t you be sorry. I have a good deal of influence,” says I, “and I’ll use it all for him” ‘ -
He was going on thus when the cab stopped. He helped Katey to lift out Jerry, and between them they carried him up to the room.
Grinnell waited a few minutes only, and said good night to Katey in a most friendly
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