"Like what?" he asked.
"Like a woman," she answered vehemently.
"My name is John Hodder," he said, "and I live in the parish house, next door to the church. I should like to be your friend, if you will let me.
If I can be of any help to you now, or at any other time, I shall feel happy. I promise not to preach," he added.
She got up abruptly, and went to the window. And when she turned to him again, it was with something of the old bravado.
"You"d better leave me alone, I"m no good;" she said. "I"m much obliged to you, but I don"t want any charity or probation houses in mine. And honest work"s a thing of the past for me--even if I could get a job.
n.o.body would have me. But if they would, I couldn"t work any more.
I"ve got out of the hang of it." With a swift and decisive movement she crossed the room, opened a cabinet on the wall, revealing a bottle and gla.s.ses.
"So you"re bent upon going--downhill?" he said.
"What can you do to stop it?" she retorted defiantly, "Give me religion---I guess you"d tell me. Religion"s all right for those on top, but say, it would be a joke if I got it. There ain"t any danger. But if I did, it wouldn"t pay room-rent and board."
He sat mute. Once more the truth overwhelmed, the folly of his former optimism arose to mock him. What he beheld now, in its true aspect, was a disease of that civilization he had championed...
She took the bottle from the cupboard and laid it on the table.
"What"s the difference?" she demanded. "It"s all over in a little while, anyway. I guess you"d tell me there was a h.e.l.l. But if that"s so, some of your church folks"ll broil, too. I"ll take my chance on it, if they will." She looked at him, half in defiance, half in friendliness, across the table. "Say, you mean all right, but you"re only wastin" time here.
You can"t do me any good, I tell you, and I"ve got to get busy."
"May we not at least remain friends?" he asked, after a moment.
Her laugh was a little harsh.
"What kind of friendship would that be? You, a minister, and me a woman on the town?"
"If I can stand it, I should think you might."
"Well, I can"t stand it," she answered.
He got up, and held out his hand. She stood seemingly irresolute, and then took it.
"Good night," he said.
"Good night," she repeated nonchalantly.
As he went out of the door she called after him:
"Don"t be afraid I"ll worry the kid!"
The stale odour of cigarette smoke with which the dim corridor was charged intoxicated, threatened to overpower him. It seemed to be the reek of evil itself. A closing door had a sinister meaning. He hurried; obscurity reigned below, the light in the lower hall being out; fumbled for the door-k.n.o.b, and once in the street took a deep breath and mopped his brow; but he had not proceeded half a block before he hesitated, retraced his steps, reentered the vestibule, and stooped to peer at the cards under the speaking tubes. Cheaply printed in large script, was the name of the tenant of the second floor rear,--MISS KATE MARCY....
In crossing Tower Street he was frightened by the sharp clanging of a great electric car that roared past him, aflame with light. His brain had seemingly ceased to work, and he stumbled at the curb, for he was very tired. The events of the day no longer differentiated themselves in his mind but lay, a composite weight, upon his heart. At length he reached the silent parish house, climbed the stairs and searched in his pocket for the key of his rooms. The lock yielded, but while feeling for the switch he tripped and almost fell over an obstruction on the floor.
The flooding light revealed his travelling-bags, as he had piled them, packed and ready to go to the station.
Volume 4.
CHAPTER XIII. WINTERBOURNE
I
Hodder fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, awaking during the night at occasional intervals to recall chimerical dreams in which the events of the day before were reflected, but caricatured and distorted. Alison Parr was talking to the woman in the flat, and both were changed, and yet he identified both: and on another occasion he saw a familiar figure surrounded by romping, ragged children--a figure which turned out to be Eldon Parr"s!
Finally he was aroused by what seemed a summons from the unknown--the prolonged morning whistle of the shoe factory. For a while he lay as one benumbed, and the gradual realization that ensued might be likened to the straining of stiffened wounds. Little by little he reconstructed, until the process became unbearable, and then rose from his bed with one object in mind,--to go to Horace Bentley. At first--he seized upon the excuse that Mr. Bentley would wish to hear the verdict of Dr. Jarvis, but immediately abandoned it as dishonest, acknowledging the true reason, that in all the--world the presence of this one man alone might a.s.suage in some degree the terror in his soul. For the first time in his life, since childhood, he knew a sense of utter dependence upon another human being. He felt no shame, would make no explanation for his early visit.
He turned up Tower, deliberately avoiding Dalton Street in its lower part, reached Mr. Bentley"s door. The wrinkled, hospitable old darky actually seemed to radiate something of the personality with which he had so long been a.s.sociated, and Hodder was conscious of a surge of relief, a return of confidence at sight of him. Yes, Mr. Bentley was at home, in the dining room. The rector said he would wait, and not disturb him.
"He done tole me to bring you out, sah, if you come," said Sam.
"He expects me?" exclaimed Hodder, with a shock of surprise.
"That"s what he done tole me, sah, to ax you kindly for to step out when you come."
The sun was beginning to penetrate into the little back yard, where the flowers were still glistening with the drops of their morning bath; and Mr. Bentley sat by the window reading his newspaper, his spectacles on his nose, and a great grey cat rubbing herself against his legs. He rose with alacrity.
"Good morning, sir," he said, and his welcome implied that early morning visits were the most common and natural of occurrences. "Sam, a plate for Mr. Hodder. I was just hoping you would come and tell me what Dr.
Jarvis had said about the case."
But Hodder was not deceived. He believed that Mr. Bentley understood perfectly why he had come, and the knowledge of the old gentleman"s comprehension curiously added to his sense of refuge. He found himself seated once more at the mahogany table, permitting Sam to fill his cup with coffee.
"Jarvis has given a favourable report, and he is coming this morning himself, in an automobile, to take the boy out to the hospital."
"That is like Jarvis," was Mr. Bentley"s comment. "We will go there, together, after breakfast, if convenient for you," he added.
"I hoped you would," replied the rector. "And I was going to ask you a favour. I have a check, given me by a young lady to use at my discretion, and it occurred to me that Garvin might be willing to accept some proposal from you." He thought of Nan Ferguson, and of the hope he lead expressed of finding some one in Dalton Street.
"I have been considering the matter," Mr. Bentley said. "I have a friend who lives on the trolley line a little beyond the hospital, a widow. It is like the country there, you know, and I think Mrs. Bledsoe could be induced to take the Garvins. And then something can be arranged for him.
I will find an opportunity to speak to him this morning."
Hodder sipped his coffee, and looked out at the morning-glories opening to the sun.
"Mrs. Garvin was alone last night. He had gone out shortly after we left, and had not waited for the doctor. She was greatly worried."
Hodder found himself discussing these matters on which, an hour before, he had feared to permit his mind to dwell. And presently, not without feeling, but in a manner eliminating all account of his personal emotions, he was relating that climactic episode of the woman at the piano. The old gentleman listened intently, and in silence.
"Yes," he said, when the rector had finished, "that is my observation.
Most of them are driven to the life, and held in it, of course, by a remorseless civilization. Individuals may be culpable, Mr. Hodder--are culpable. But we cannot put the whole responsibility on individuals."