It tired
me to have my meals alone: it is bad for the digestion; at least, so
he says, and he believes that it was indigestion that was the matter
with me. I should be sorry for myself if you were to go away; not
that I want to put that forward. Maybe I should never see much more
of you: he is rich: you might come here sometimes, but he would not
like to have Marshall and mother and me at his house.'
Not a word was spoken for at least a minute.
Suddenly Mrs Marshall took Madge's hand in her own hands, leaned over
her, and in that kind of whisper with which we wake a sleeper who is
to be aroused to escape from sudden peril, she said in her ear, -
'Madge, Madge: for God's sake leave him!'
'I have left him.'
'Are you sure?'
'Quite.'
'For ever?'
'For ever!'
Mrs Marshall let go Madge's hand, turned her eyes towards her
intently for a moment, and again bent over her as if she were about
to embrace her. A knock, however, came at the door, and Mrs Caffyn
entered with the cup of coffee which she always insisted on bringing
before Madge rose. After she and her daughter had left, Madge read
the letter once more. There was nothing new in it, but formally it
was something, like the tolling of the bell when we know that our
friend is dead. There was a little sobbing, and then she kissed her
child with such eagerness that it began to cry.
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