spectators, yet it is also, with its apparently unstoppable rhythm, like the setting-going of a machine. It is no use asking someone in hysterics to «control themselves.» By «choosing» to become hysterical they have put themselves beyond ordinary communication. Priscilla, now sitting upright in bed, gave a gasping «Uuuh!» then a screamed «Aaah!» ending in a sort of bubbling sob, then the gasp again and the scream and so on. It was an appalling sound, both tortured and cruel. I have four times heard a woman in hysterics, once my mother when my father shouted at her, once Priscilla when she was pregnant, once another woman (would that I could forget that occasion) and now Priscilla again. I turned to Christian raising my hands distractedly.
Francis Marloe came in grinning.
Christian said, «Out you go, Brad, wait downstairs.»
I ran down the first flight, then went more slowly down the second flight. By the time I reached the door of the dark brown and indigo drawing-room the house had become entirely silent. I went in and stood with my feet well apart, breathing.
Christian entered.
«She's stopped,» I said. «What did you do?»
«I slapped her.»
I said, «I think I'm going to faint.» I sat down on the sofa and covered my face with my hand.
«Brad! Quick, here, some brandy-«Could I have some biscuits or something? I haven't eaten all day. Or yesterday.»
I really did feel, for that moment, faint: that odd absolutely unique sensation of a black baldacchino being lowered like an extinguisher over one's head. And now, as brandy, bread, biscuits, cheese, plumcake became available, I also knew that I was going to cry. It was many many years since I had wept. What a very strange phenomenon it is, little perhaps they realize who use it much. I recalled the dismay of the wolves when Mowgli sheds tears, in the Jungle Book. Or rather, it is Mowgli who is dismayed, and thinks he is dying. The wolves are better informed, dignified, faintly disgusted. I held the glass of brandy in both hands and stared at Christian and felt the warm water quietly rising into my eyes. The quiet inevitability of the sensation gave satisfaction. It was an achievement. Perhaps all tears are an achievement. Oh precious gift.
«Brad, dear, don't-«I hate violence,» I said.
«It's no good letting her go on and on, she tires herself so, she did it for half an hour yesterday-«All right, yes, all right-«Why, you poor pet! I'm doing my best, honest. It's no fun having a near-crazy in the house. I'm doing it for you, Brad.»
«Brad, what is it, you look extraordinary, something's happened to you, you're beautiful, you look like a saint or something, you look like some goddamn picture, you look all young again-«You won't abandon Priscilla, will you, Chris?» I said, and I mopped the tears away with my hand.
«Did you just notice something, Brad?»
«What?»
«You called me 'Chris.' «
«Did I? Like old days. Well, but you won't? I'll pay you-«Oh never mind the dough. I'll look after her. I got onto a new doc. There's a treatment with injections she can have.»
«Good. Julian.»
«What was that?»
I had just uttered Julian's name aloud. I got up. «Chris, do you mind, I must go. I've got something very important to do.» Think about Julian.
«Brad, please-Oh, all right, I won't keep you. But I want you to say something to me.»
«What?»
«Oh that you forgive me or something. That there's peace between us or something. You know I just loved you, Brad. You saw my love as a sort of crushing force or a will to power or something but I just wanted to hold you. And I did really truly come back here to you and for you. I thought about you out there and what a fool I'd been. Of course I'm not a romantic crazy. I know our thing couldn't work then, we were so young and God we were stupid with each other. But there was something I saw in you which didn't leave me alone. I used to dream we were reconciled, you know in dreams at night, real dreams.»
«Me too,» I said.
Christian entered.
«She's stopped,» I said. «What did you do?»
«I slapped her.»
I said, «I think I'm going to faint.» I sat down on the sofa and covered my face with my hand.
«Brad! Quick, here, some brandy-«Could I have some biscuits or something? I haven't eaten all day. Or yesterday.»
I really did feel, for that moment, faint: that odd absolutely unique sensation of a black baldacchino being lowered like an extinguisher over one's head. And now, as brandy, bread, biscuits, cheese, plumcake became available, I also knew that I was going to cry. It was many many years since I had wept. What a very strange phenomenon it is, little perhaps they realize who use it much. I recalled the dismay of the wolves when Mowgli sheds tears, in the Jungle Book. Or rather, it is Mowgli who is dismayed, and thinks he is dying. The wolves are better informed, dignified, faintly disgusted. I held the glass of brandy in both hands and stared at Christian and felt the warm water quietly rising into my eyes. The quiet inevitability of the sensation gave satisfaction. It was an achievement. Perhaps all tears are an achievement. Oh precious gift.
«Brad, dear, don't-«I hate violence,» I said.
«It's no good letting her go on and on, she tires herself so, she did it for half an hour yesterday-«All right, yes, all right-«Why, you poor pet! I'm doing my best, honest. It's no fun having a near-crazy in the house. I'm doing it for you, Brad.»
«Brad, what is it, you look extraordinary, something's happened to you, you're beautiful, you look like a saint or something, you look like some goddamn picture, you look all young again-«You won't abandon Priscilla, will you, Chris?» I said, and I mopped the tears away with my hand.
«Did you just notice something, Brad?»
«What?»
«You called me 'Chris.' «
«Did I? Like old days. Well, but you won't? I'll pay you-«Oh never mind the dough. I'll look after her. I got onto a new doc. There's a treatment with injections she can have.»
«Good. Julian.»
«What was that?»
I had just uttered Julian's name aloud. I got up. «Chris, do you mind, I must go. I've got something very important to do.» Think about Julian.
«Brad, please-Oh, all right, I won't keep you. But I want you to say something to me.»
«What?»
«Oh that you forgive me or something. That there's peace between us or something. You know I just loved you, Brad. You saw my love as a sort of crushing force or a will to power or something but I just wanted to hold you. And I did really truly come back here to you and for you. I thought about you out there and what a fool I'd been. Of course I'm not a romantic crazy. I know our thing couldn't work then, we were so young and God we were stupid with each other. But there was something I saw in you which didn't leave me alone. I used to dream we were reconciled, you know in dreams at night, real dreams.»
«Me too,» I said.
«What tosh, my dearest dearest Chris.»
«Oh sure, but all the same-you know something, suddenly I feel you're open to me, right open to me-I can walk straight in and there's welcome written on the mat-Brad, say those good words, will you, say you forgive me, say we're really reconciled and friends again at last.»
«Of course I forgive you, Chris, of course we're reconciled. You must forgive me too, I wasn't a patient man-«Sure I do. Now thank God we can talk at last, talk all about how things were and about the bloody fools we used to be, make it all good again, buy it back, that's what 'redeem' means, doesn't it, what happens in the pawn shop. When I saw you crying for Pris– cilla I knew it was possible. You're a good man, Bradley Pearson, we can make it together if only we open our hearts-«Chris, dear. Please!»
