drew their breaths in with a soft concerted sound. 'Fiddlesticks,' Mrs Bland said briskly. 'If that isn't just like these ignorant lowclass Yankees. Get in, Quentin.'
Shreve and I sat on two small collapsible seats. Gerald cranked the car and got in and we started.
'Now, Quentin, you tell me what all this foolishness is about,' Mrs Bland said. I told them, Shreve hunched and furious on his little seat and Spoade sitting again on the back of his neck beside Miss Daingerfield.
'And the joke is, all the time Quentin had us all fooled,' Spoade said. 'All the time we thought he was the model youth that anybody could trust a daughter with, until the police showed him up at his nefarious work.'
'Hush up, Spoade,' Mrs Bland said. We drove down the street and crossed the bridge and passed the house where the pink garment hung in the window. 'That's what you get for not reading my note. Why didn't you come and get it? Mr MacKenzie says he told you it was there.'
'Yessum. I intended to, but I never went back to the room.'
'You'd have let us sit there waiting I dont know how long, if it hadn't been for Mr MacKenzie. When he said you hadn't come back, that left an extra place, so we asked him to come. We're very glad to have you anyway, Mr MacKenzie.' Shreve said nothing. His arms were folded and he glared straight ahead past Gerald's cap. It was a cap for motoring in England. Mrs Bland said so. We passed that house, and three others, and another yard where the little girl stood by the gate. She didn't have the bread now, and her face looked like it had been streaked with coaldust. I waved my hand, but she made no reply, only her head turned slowly as the car passed, following us with her unwinking gaze. Then we ran beside the wall, our shadows running along the wall, and after a while we passed a piece of torn newspaper lying beside the road and I began to laugh again. I could feel it in my throat and I looked off into the trees where the afternoon slanted, thinking of afternoon and of the bird and the boys in swimming. But still I couldn't stop it and then I knew that if I tried too hard to stop it I'd be crying and I thought about how I'd thought about I could not be a virgin, with so many of them walking along in the shadows and whispering with their soft girlvoices lingering in the shadowy places and the words coming out and perfume and eyes you could feel not see, but if it was that simple to do it wouldn't be anything and if it wasn't anything, what was I and then Mrs Bland said, 'Quentin? Is he sick, Mr MacKenzie?' and then Shreve's fat hand touched my knee and Spoade began talking and I quit trying to stop it.
'If that hamper is in his way, Mr MacKenzie, move it over on your side. I brought a hamper of wine because I think young gentlemen should drink wine, although my father, Gerald's grandfather '
'They do, when they can get it,' Spoade said. 'Hey, Shreve?'
'Beer, too,' Shreve said. His hand touched my knee again. I moved my knee again.
'You're not a gentleman,' Spoade said.
'No. I'm Canadian,' Shreve said.
'I adore Canada,' Miss Daingerfield said. 'I think it's marvellous.'
'Did you ever drink perfume?' Spoade said.
'No,' Shreve said.
'Neither did I,' Spoade said.
'and Gerald's grandfather always picked his own mint before breakfast, while the dew was still on it. He wouldn't even let old Wilkie touch it do you remember Gerald but always gathered it himself and made his own julep. He was as crotchety about his julep as an old maid, measuring everything by a recipe in his head. There was only one man he ever gave that recipe to; that was '
'never be got to drink wine himself, but he always said that a hamper what book did you read that in the one where Gerald's rowing suit of wine was a necessary part of any gentlemen's picnic basket'
one minute she was standing there the next he was yelling and pulling at her dress they went into the hall and up the stairs yelling and shoving at her up the stairs to the bathroom door and stopped her back against the door and her arm across her face yelling and trying to shove her into the bathroom when she came in to supper T. P. was feeding him he started again just whimpering at first until she touched him then he yelled she stood there her eyes like cornered rats then I was running in the gray darkness it smelled of rain and all flower scents the damp warm air released and crickets sawing away in the grass pacing me with a small travelling island of silence Fancy watched me across the fence blotchy like a quilt on a line I thought damn that nigger he forgot to feed her again I ran down the hill in that vacuum of crickets like a breath travelling across a mirror she was lying in the water her head on the sand spit the water flowing about her hips there was a little more light in the water her skirt half saturated flopped along her flanks to the waters motion in heavy ripples going nowhere renewed themselves of their own movement I stood on the bank I could smell the honeysuckle on the water gap the air seemed to drizzle with honeysuckle and with the rasping of crickets a substance you could feel
on the flesh
is Benjy still crying
I dont know yes I dont know
poor Benjy
I sat down on the bank the crass was damn a little then I found my shoes wet
get out of that water are you crazy
but she didnt move her face was a white blur framed out of the blur of the sand by her hair
get out now
she sat up then she rose her skirt flopped against her draining she climbed the bank her clothes flopping sat down
why dont you wring it out do you want to catch cold
yes
the water sucked and gurgled across the sand spit and on in the dark among the willows across the shallow the water rippled like a piece of cloth holding still a little light as water does
hes crossed all the oceans all around the world
then she talked about him clasping her wet knees her face tilted back in the gray light the smell of honeysuckle there was a light in mothers room and in Benjys where T. P. was putting him to bed
do you love him
her hand came out I didnt move it fumbled down my arm and she held my hand flat against her chest her heart thudding
no no
did he make you then he made you do it let him he was stronger than you and he tomorrow Ill kill him I swear I will father neednt know until afterward and then you and I nobody need ever know we can take my school money we can cancel my matriculation Caddy you hate him dont you dont you
she held my hand against her chest her heart thudding I turned and caught her arm
Caddy you hate him dont you
she moved my hand up against her throat her heart was hammering there
poor Quentin
her face looked at the sky it was low so low that all smells and sounds of night seemed to have been crowded