Katherine Mansfield's Short Stories by Katherine Mansfield

Author:Katherine Mansfield [Katherine Mansfield’s]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781869793418
Publisher: Random House New Zealand
Published: 2010-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

What do you think of that? Wasn’t that a rare find? My relief at his not having shot himself was mixed with a wonderful sense of elation. I was even — more than even with my “that’s very curious and interesting” Englishman….

She wept so strangely. With her eyes shut, with her face quite calm except for the quivering eyelids. The tears poured down her cheeks and she let them fall.

But feeling my glance upon her she opened her eyes and saw me holding the letter.

“You’ve read it?”

Her voice was quite calm, but it was not her voice any more. It was like the voice you might imagine coming out of a tiny, cold sea-shell swept high and dry at last by the salt tide….

I nodded, quite overcome, you understand, and laid the letter down.

“It’s incredible! incredible!” I whispered.

At that she got up from the floor, walked over to the washstand, dipped her handkerchief into the jug and sponged her eyes, saying: “Oh, no. It’s not incredible at all.” And still pressing the wet ball to her eyes she came back to me, to her chair with the lace tabs, and sank into it.

“I knew all along, of course,” said the cold, salty little voice. “From the very moment that we started. I felt it all through me, but I still went on hoping —”and here she took the handkerchief down and gave me a final glimmer — “as one so stupidly does, you know.”

“As one does.”

Silence.

“But what will you do? You’ll go back? You’ll see him?”

That made her sit right up and stare across at me.

“What an extraordinary idea!” she said, more coldly than ever. “Of course I shall not dream of seeing him. As for going back — that is quite out of the question. I can’t go back.”

“But …”

“It’s impossible. For one thing all my friends think I am married.”

I put out my hand — “Ah, my poor little friend.”

But she shrank away. (False move.)

Of course, there was one question that had been at the back of my mind all this time. I hated it.

“Have you any money?”

“Yes, I have twenty pounds — here,” and she put her hand on her breast. I bowed. It was a great deal more than I had expected.

“And what are your plans?”

Yes, I know. My question was the most clumsy, the most idiotic one I could have put. She had been so tame, so confiding, letting me, at any rate spiritually speaking, hold her tiny, quivering body in one hand and stroke her furry head — and now, I’d thrown her away. Oh, I could have kicked myself.

She stood up. “I have no plans. But — it’s very late. You must go now, please.”

How could I get her back? I wanted her back. I swear I was not acting then.

“Do feel that I am your friend,” I cried. “You will let me come to-morrow, early? You will let me look after you a little — take care of you a little? You’ll use me just as you think fit?”

I succeeded.

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