«I don't suppose they were. They were just happy.»
«Well, I hated it, I hated it.»
«Was Arnold there in the afternoon?»
«Oh yes, he came straight back after you'd left, he was there nearly all day, they made a huge lunch downstairs, I could smell it, I didn't want any, and I heard them laughing all the time. They didn't want me, they left me alone nearly all day.»
«Poor Priscilla.»
«I can't stand that man. And I can't stand her either. They didn't really want me there at all, they didn't care about me really to help me, it was just part of a game, it was like a joke.»
«You're right there.»
«No.»
«She said a doctor was coming but he didn't come. I feel terrible, I think I've got cancer. Everyone despises me, everyone knows what's happened to me. Bradley, could you ring up Roger?»
«Oh no, please-«I'll have to go back to Roger. I could see Dr. Macey at home. Or else I'll kill myself. I think I'll kill myself. No one will care.»
«Priscilla, do get properly undressed. Or else get up and comb your hair. I can't bear to see you lying dressed in bed.»
«Oh what does it matter, what does it matter.»
The front doorbell rang again. I ran to open it. Francis Marloe was outside, his little eyes screwed up with ingratiating humility. «Oh Brad, you must forgive me for coming-«Come in,» I said. «You offered to nurse my sister. Well, she's here and you're engaged.»
«Really? Oh goodie, goodie!»
«You can go in and nurse her now, she's in there. Can you give her a sedative?»
«I always carry-«All right, go on.» I picked up the telephone and dialled Rachel's number. «Hello, Rachel.»
«Oh-Bradley-«
I knew at once from her voice that she was alone. A woman can put so much into the way she says your name.
«Rachel. Thanks for your sweet letter.»
«Bradley-can I see you-soon-at once-?»
«Rachel, listen. Priscilla's come back and Francis Marloe is here. Listen. I gave Julian a water buffalo with a lady on it.»
«A what?»
«A little bronze thing.»
«Oh. Did you?»
«Yes. She asked for it, here, you remember.»
«Oh yes.»
«Well, it's really Priscilla's only I forgot and she wants it back. Could you get it off Julian, and bring it round, or send her? Tell her I'm very sorry-«She's out, but I'll find it. I'll bring it at once.»
«The human lot is sad and awful,» murmured Francis. «We are demons to each other. Yes, demons.» He was looking pleased, pursing up his red lips and casting delighted coy glances at me with his little eyes.
«Priscilla, let me comb your hair.»
«No, I can't bear to be touched, I feel as if I were a leper, I feel my flesh is rotting, I'm sure I smell-«Priscilla, do take your skirt off, it must be getting so crumpled.»
«What does it matter, what does anything matter, oh I am so unhappy.»
«At least take your shoes off.»
«Sad and awful, sad and awful. Demons. Demons. Yes.»
«Priscilla, do try to relax, you're as rigid as a corpse.»
«I wish I was a corpse.»
«Do at least make an effort to be comfortable!»
«I gave him my life. I haven't got another one. A woman has nothing else.»
«Fruitless and bootless. Fruitless and bootless.»
«Oh I'm so frightened-«Priscilla, there's nothing to be frightened of. Oh God, you are getting me down!»
«Frightened.»
«Do please take your shoes off.»
The front doorbell rang. I opened the door to Rachel and was making her a rueful face when I saw that Julian was standing just behind her.
Rachel said meaningfully, «Julian arrived back and insisted on bringing the thing along herself.»
Julian said, «Of course I'm very glad to bring it back to Priscilla, of course it's hers and she must have it. I do so hope it will make her feel happier and better.»
I let them in and ushered them into the bedroom where Priscilla was still talking to Francis. «He had no idea of equality between us, I suppose no man has, they all despise women-«Men are terrible, terrible-«Visitors, Priscilla!»
Priscilla, her shoes humping the edge of the quilt, was propped up on several pillows. Her eyes were red and swollen with crying, and her mouth was rectangular with complaint, like the mouth of a letter box.
Julian went directly and sat on the bed. She laid the irises down reverently beside Priscilla and then pushed the water-buffalo lady along the coverlet, as if she was amusing a child, and thrust it up against Priscilla's blouse, in the hollow between her breasts. Priscilla, not knowing what the thing was, and looking terrified, gave a little cry of aversion. Julian then took it into her head to kiss her and made a dive at her cheek. Their two chins collided with a click.
I said soothingly, «There you are, Priscilla. There's your water– buffalo lady. She came back home to you after all.»
Julian had retreated to the bottom of the bed. She stared at Priscilla with a look of agonized and still rather self-conscious pity. She opened her lips and put her hands together as if praying. It looked as if she were begging Priscilla's pardon for being young and good– looking and innocent and unspoilt and having a future, while Priscilla was old and ugly and sinful and wrecked and had none. The contrast between them went through the room like a spasm of pain.
Priscilla murmured, «I'm not a child. You needn't all be so-sorry for me. You needn't all stare at me-and treat me as if I were a-She fumbled for the water buffalo and for a moment it looked as if she were going to fondle it. Then she threw it from her across the room where it crashed against the wainscot. Her tears began again and she buried her face in the pillow. The irises fell to the floor. Francis, who had picked up the bronze, hid it within his hands and smiled. I motioned Rachel and Julian out of the room.
In the sitting-room Julian said, «I'm terribly sorry.»
«It wasn't your fault,» I told her.
«It must be so awful to be like that.»
«You can't imagine,» I said, «what it is to be like that. So don't bother to try.»
«I'm so awfully sorry for her.»
Rachel said, «You run along now.»
Julian said, «Oh I do wish-Ah well-« She went to the door. Then she said to me, «Bradley, could I have just a word with you? Could you just walk with me to the corner. I won't keep you more than a moment.»
I gave a complicit wave to Rachel and followed the child out of the house. She walked confidently down the court and into Charlotte Street without looking round. The cold sun was shining brightly and I felt a great sense of relief at being suddenly out in the open among busy indifferent anonymous people under a blue clean sky.
We walked a few steps along the street and stopped beside a red telephone box. Julian now wore a rather jaunty boyish air. She was clearly feeling relieved too. Above her, behind her, I saw the Post Office Tower, and it was as if I myself were as high as the tower, so closely and so clearly could I see all its glittering silver details. I was tall and erect: so good was it for that moment to be outside the house, away from Priscilla's red eyes and dulled hair, to be for a moment with someone who was young and good-looking and innocent and unspoilt and who
