between the sheets and lay there shuddering, staring in front of her with big blank suffering eyes.
I pulled up a chair and sat down beside her.
«Bradley, my marriage is over. I think my life is probably over. What a poor affair it has been.»
«Priscilla, don't talk so-«Roger has become a devil. Some sort of devil. Or else he's mad.»
«You know I never thought much of Roger-«I've been so unhappy for years, so unhappy-«I don't understand how a human being can be so unhappy all the time and still be alive.»
«But lately it's been sort of pure intense hell, he's been sort of willing my death, oh I can't explain, and he tried to poison me and I woke in the night and he was standing by my bed looking so terrible as if he was just making up his mind to strangle me.»
«How can you say that to me, how can you. This cold hatred and wanting to kill me and poison me-«Priscilla, calm yourself. You can't leave Roger. It doesn't make sense. Of course you're unhappy, all married people are unhappy, but you can't just launch yourself on the world at fifty whatever you are now-«
«Fifty-two. Oh God, oh God-«
«Stop it. Stop that noise, please. Now dry yourself up and I'll take you back to Paddington in a taxi. I'm going to the country. You can't stay here.»
«And I left all my jewels behind and some of them are quite valuable, and now he won't let me have them out of spite. Oh why was I such a fool! I just ran out of the house late last night, we'd been quarrelling for hours and hours and I couldn't stand it any more. I just ran out, I didn't even take my coat, and I went to the station and I thought he'd come after me to the station, but he didn't. Of course he's been trying to drive me to run away and then say it's my fault. And I waited at the station for hours and it was so cold and I felt as if I was going mad through sheer misery. Oh he's been so awful to me, so vile and frightening-Sometimes he'd just go on and on and on saying, 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you-«All spouses are murmuring that to each other all the time. It's the fundamental litany of marriage.» '
'I hate you, I hate you-' «
«I think you were saying that, Priscilla, not him. I think-«And I left all my jewels behind and my mink stole, and Roger took all the money out of our joint account-«Priscilla, brace up. Look, I'll give you ten minutes. Just rest quietly, and then put your togs on again and we'll leave together.»
«Bradley-oh my God I'm so wretched, I'm choking with it-I made a home for him-I haven't got anything else-I cared so much about that house, I made all the curtains myself-I loved all the little things-I hadn't anything else to love-and now it's all gone-all my life has been taken away from me-I'll destroy myself-I'll tear myself to pieces-«
«I'll destroy myself.»
«Now make an effort. Get control of yourself. I'm not being heartless. It's for your good. I'll leave you now and finish packing my own bags.»
She was sobbing again, not touching her face, letting the tears flow down. She looked so pitiful and ugly, I reached across and pulled the curtain a little. Her swollen face, the scene in the dim light, reminded me of Rachel.
«Oh I left all my jewels behind, my diamante set and my jade brooch and my amber ear-rings and the little rings, and my crystal– and-lapis necklace, and my mink stole-I closed the door and went back to the sitting-room and closed the sitting-room door. I felt very shaken. I cannot stand unbridled displays of emotion and women's stupid tears. And I was suddenly deeply frightened by the possibility of having my sister on my hands. I simply did not love her enough to be of any use to her, and it seemed wiser to make this plain at once.
I waited for about ten minutes, trying to calm and clear my mind, and then went back to the bedroom door. I did not really expect that Priscilla would have got dressed and be ready to leave. I did not know what to do. I felt fear and disgust at the idea of «mental breakdown,» the semi-deliberate refusal to go on organizing one's life which is regarded with such tolerance in these days. I peered into the room. Priscilla was lying in a sort of abandoned attitude on her side, having half kicked off the bedclothes. Her mouth was wet and wide open. A plump stockinged leg stuck rather awkwardly out of the bed, surmounted by yellowish suspenders and a piece of mottled thigh. The graceless awkwardness of the position suggested a dummy which had fallen over. She said in a heavy slightly whimpering voice, «I've just eaten all my sleeping pills.»
«What! Priscilla! No!»
«I've eaten them.» She was holding an empty bottle in her hand.
«You're not serious! How many?»
I picked it up. The label meant nothing to me. I made a sort of dart at Priscilla, trying stupidly to pull the bedclothes up over her, but one of her legs was on top of them. I ran out of the room.
In the hall I ran to and fro, starting off back to the bedroom, then running towards the flat door, then back to the telephone. As I reached the telephone it began to ring, and I picked it up.
There were the rapid pips of the «pay tone,» and then a click-Arnold's voice said, «Bradley, Rachel and I are just in town for lunch, we're just round the corner and we wondered if we could persuade you to join us. Darling, would you like to talk to Bradley?»
Rachel's voice said, «Bradley, my dear, we both felt-I said, «Priscilla's just eaten all her sleeping pills.»
«What? Who?»
«Priscilla. My sister, just taken bottle sleeping pills-I-get hospital-«
«What's that, Bradley? I can't hear. Bradley, don't ring off, we-«Priscilla's taken her sleeping-Sorry, I must ring-get doctor-sorry, sorry-I jammed the phone down, then lifted it again and could still hear Rachel's voice saying, «anything we can do-« I banged it back, ran to the bedroom door, ran back again, lifted the phone, put it down, began to pull the telephone books out of the shelves where they live inside a converted mahogany commode. The telephone books slewed all over the floor. The front doorbell rang.
I ran to the door and opened it. It was Francis Marloe.
I said, «Thank God you've come, my sister has just eaten a bottle full of sleeping pills.»
«Where's the bottle?» said Francis. «How many were in it?»
«God, how do I know-The bottle-God, I had it in my hand a moment ago-Christ, where is it?»
«When did she take them?»
«Just now.»
«Have you telephoned a hospital?»
«No, I-«
«Where is she?»
«Oh Christ, where is the bloody bottle-I had it in my hand-The doorbell rang again. I opened it. Arnold, Rachel and Julian were standing outside the door. They were neat and smartly dressed, Julian in a sort of flowered smock looking about twelve. They appeared like a family advertising corn flakes or insurance, except that Rachel had a bruise under one eye.
«Bradley, can we-«Help me find the bottle, I had the bottle she took, I put it down somewhere-A cry came out of the bedroom. Francis called, «Brad, could-Rachel said, «Let me.» She went into the bedroom.
«I must telephone the hospital,» I said.
«What's this about a bottle?» said Arnold.
«I can't read the blasted telephone number. Can you read the number?»
«I always said you needed glasses.»
Rachel ran out of the bedroom into the kitchen. I could hear Priscilla's voice saying, «Leave me alone, leave me alone.»
«Arnold, could you telephone the hospital and I'll look for the-I must have taken it into the-I ran into the sitting-room and was surprised to see a girl there. I got an impression of freshly laundered dress, freshly laundered girl, girl on a visit. She was examining the little bronzes in the lacquered display cabinet. She stopped doing this and watched me with polite curiosity while I started hurling cushions about. «What are you looking for, Bradley?»
«Bottle. Sleeping pills. See what kind.»
Arnold was telephoning.
Francis called out. I ran to the bedroom. Rachel was mopping the floor. There was a vile smell. Priscilla was sitting on the side of the bed sobbing. Her petticoat with pink daisies on it was hitched up round her waist, rather tight silken knickers cut into her thigh, making the mottled flesh bulge.
Francis, talking quickly, excitedly, said, «She was sick-I didn't really-it'll help-but a stomach pump-Julian
