Until t trouble myself to ill supposed I s out. Even . I only understood at last t I must give up my idea t Dr Cie o release me— for if I ime on only seemed to serve to make , ill o I s only be made to e. You too muco literary is t. But sometimes ors must o put you to literary o restore you. Look me somet e and c e before you, ten me out—neatly, mind!—your name. Your true name, I mean. tomorroart of
an account of your life; and you so it, on eac folloy he pen
And so ting a stretce noto a poing of my palm. ty slate, and froe a ime to make you eful, I call t.
your teettled out of your il you tell ted ted me. t t ural to me, I did it to tease t it out t I got special attentions from Dr Cie, tending to be lo made te me, too. Only mad Miss ilson o me. Once se and, e me out my name—Mauds name, I mean. But, t it ; for , day, I again could make not scribbles, of course me shamming.
Keep ernly, until ses again.
So te out: Susan, Susan—I e it, fifty times. Nurse Bacon me. Nurse Spiller me, too. Dr Cie s, and needed anote— into my moutalked of bringing a leeco bleed my o t a made-up language she said
er t ime ing paper bags beer—looking for o startle o speaking English.
I o me, ime for sitting and planning my escape in. For I still t of not of t. It got to June. I ime in May. But I still enougo learn to study t for ime Nurse Bacon took out c. I sa, as far as t, one key key from a nurses cain of it. But tout; and eac be crafty—kept of all. So Betty out from ook t once, and dropped to .
I never sa trembling in a seemed too I—of all people in t so lo even a fancy key, but a plain one, raigs upon it t, given t kind of blank and file, I kneo fake up. I t it, a imes a day. I t it as I it as I tle garden; as I sat in ts imes over. But my ts were more like poisons. I hey made me sick.
It of sickness, not like t , in my first days t was a kind
of creeping misery, t crept so slos of t kno il too late. I still said, to everyone I e in my rig I ake— t I Maud Rivers, and must be let out at once. But I said it so often, t—like coins losing too muc. One day at last, I again; and t me in pity.
I t t you see, Im afraid you must be mad, since you are us all. You need only look about you. You need only look at yourself.
S, as before, sy; topped, t, I could not say in look, to otie kept no looking-glasses, for fear t smas seemed to me no t time I my o Mrs Creams— at Mrs Creams?—le mirror. I put my o my eyes. tain of it. o taken it from me—and taken, too, Mauds mot —tead— I looked do myself, at tartan dress and rubber boots. I used to t t see tter. t to cting a little to t of looked into t was dark, and sopped, and her face.—I blinked. She blinked. She was me.
I sloowards her, and looked myself over, in horror.
I looked, as tic. My ill
seo my s stitcood out in tufts. My face marked, s and scratc of sleep, I suppose—and red at tick. tartan goy ips of t I still to my . You could just make out, on teeth.
I looked, for pere. I looked, and t of all times t Mrs Sucksby of me in it, so I s take c of ting aside, for me, tenderest morsels of meat; and smooteet; and passing o be sure t traig me, all to Briar, to make my fortune, so I mig une and given me o be —as say, in milliners sted res; or in dancing—every glass so be everyt— to be handsome, and cheerful, and proud, and free—
I migo. tened me. I stood, not knoy woke up, and came and jabbed me.
All rigy, s, too. So lets see em. So turning line; and I bos, ts of t—anyt all, to save me from lifting my gaze to the look in my own mad eye.
t, I suppose, t might have been sooner,
t es ell so mucead of spending all morning on your bed, you o stand in ten o s do, for every Sunday t came round; but of course, for many —eacime one came I t t, by t, I s out. to gro seemed to me t some o ell for certain spring urned to summer: for t, like an oven.
I remember t, almost more t self. tance, became like soup. I tually died, t air—tie o pass off trokes. I . tempered as ts. tay er you, in , tunbridge Asylum, whe nurses all wear poplin—!
But t of it too easy. talked all time of roublesome and sly t of course, too dazed and miserable to be sly, trouble came all from t. t of time test one you can imagine, for t us in bed at seven oclock—gave us ts, to make us sleep—t till midnigoast and cocoa, doing fancy-ing, standing at to eac of eacheir ladies locked up and unguarded.
And in tie ake off tockings and lift ts; and tand beside t we legs.
Nurse Bacon did, anycty rubbing grease into en times a day. Sometimes s its s ter. t gave her dreams.
oo slippy! s. And t ;
I also dreamed. I seemed to dream every time I closed my eyes. I dreamed, as you mig Street, of troubling dreams, en I . Noill to do—and yet, t as well hose dreams bewildered me.
t dreams of all, o s greer and I began to get more and more muddled in my mind. they were dreams of Briar, and of Maud.
For I never dreamed of leman. I only ever used to dream t be blamed, can you, for o kill sometimes I , not kno me, and turned and fretted in ttys great bare leg, Nurse Bacons sing face, Miss ilsons arm. Mrs
Price put back , rat Maud o do: I e forget t t from Briar, forget t c t Mrs Creams, to trick; forget I meant to escape, and o do ant, be not in my bed at all but in ains doonig voice; and then: Im afraid! Im afraid—!
Dont be frig be frig t moment, to t, like Nurse Bacon, I migerrible sed ed I kne, every time, I secretly o its end.
I began to be afraid I ried to kiss Mrs Price, or Betty? But if I tried to stay as upid, it also no ladies—even quiet, obedient ladies—into fits. You caugion of it from your bed: t. It broke into t and silent nigime, ill trangely—and sometimes one lady off anot mig set off you, and you o feel t gatart to s, pero tcs! Betty migart to en. top, tsteps begin to fade. ts got t word, plunge,
Betty must involve being pumped, like a drain, t o soo.
I dont kno, so all of us, nastily, as s back to one of you t off, ?
But time, it o ting for tie came running: tairs, and er and s being plunged meant being dropped in a bat gave me some comfort, at least; for it seemed to me t being bat be nearly so bad as being suckered and pumped . . .
I still kne all.
t test day of all t stifling summer—t turned out to be Nurse Bacons birt of it, sly to our room, to give ty. times, as I t alloo, and talking made it of us to sleep; but or—for t it doo delusions and, after, us. till, playing cards or dominoes, drinking lemonade and, sometimes, beer.
t, on account of it being Nurse Bacons birt; and because it ook too muc and got drunk. I lay across my face, but kept my eyes try to sleep you mig Dr Cie, I suppose, might call—a morbid fear, of
giving myself a I ougo keep ao a stupor; for teal their keys . . .
t, ead, tter. I t noo a doze: I began to en one of t, or snort er; t er t o myself, . At last I looked at t red sing faces and t open mout t boasting of o comparing grips. t to one anoto palm, to see hem showed her arm.
Let us see yours, Belinda, anoty names like t. You could imagine t t us see it.
Nurse Bacon pretended to look modest; t back , it bulged. ts Iris it, and hem said,
I s, youre almost a match for Nurse Flew.
Nurse Fleo ron in a gaol. Noco see s all. ter. A matcc!
ty and Mrs Price. Sirring. Get back to sleep, s see me, cch, indeed, she
grumbled. So one of tcta, you get a string.
tittered, and t off. t came back after a minute o undress me on my first day. togetairs. Nurse Spiller looked about h her hands on her hips and said,
ell, if Dr Cie could see you! Ss t arms?
Sook it in turns to measure tc, as a man in a darkened o arm, and it trange lig queer s, and tement of to lurch and hop.
Fifteen! teen!— Seventeen!—Eigeen! Nurse Flew !
t do, and fell about quarrelling—not so muced to attoos. Nurse Bacons face han ever. She said sulkily,
As to arms, Nurse Fleake it time; t oug to count t. No weig up han me?
At once, t up beside ried to pick to prove it. One of them fell down.
Its no good, t so, tell. e need anot say you stand upon a c.
say, said tty? See who makes her creak.
See who makes her squeak!
t Bettys bed. Betty t to shake.
Nurse Spiller snorted. Sime. Dont make it aint fair. Make it old Miss ilson.
S!
Or, Mrs Price.
Shed cry! Cryings no—
Make it Maud!
One of t—I dont kno eachen Nurse Spiller spoke.
Pass a canding on—
ait! ait! cried anot are you t jump on ll kill o wipe ead.
And at t, I put back t from my face and opened my eyes up ter all, t I put back t, and tarted laugoook t, and anot. t sing beast y y panting moutruggled, they pinched me. I said,
You leave me alone!
S up, t going to you. e only to see of Nurse Bacon, Nurse Spiller and Nurse Fle to see w. Are you ready?
Get off me! Get off me! Ill tell Dr Cie!
Someone me in t, to go on ?
I le for o come forward. S her? she said.
eve got her.
Rigill
tig s and t to s, at t moment, arent fit to be described. I ear tarted to s and, again, I ruck in t; so t. t on to ting up , knelt astride of me. to fall upon me. But to take it. Nurse Bacon opped her.
No dropping, s be fair. Go do at all.
So Nurse Fleil . I tead of a bed, so run. Please—! I said.
S means five points to Nurse Flew!
tugging me, t off me, and I sactered and cougigurn. S more aiff one, seemed to cut me like a sa sour, and tle bitco me, sing out!—but I , t last ts for Nurse Spiller at all!—and so off. I lifted my head
from ttress. My eyes reaming er, but beyond tty and Miss ilson and Mrs Price, looking on and s pretending to sleep. t migo t blame t my tigill flus te of have had gloves on.
S astride of me as Nurse Flew had, and flexed her fingers.
No and made it tidy. Sted my leg. No. hos my own good girl?
ter t of , and ten points! t t, like rolling-pins; and t made me scre louder. t omacill ain way. My eyes flew open. She gave me a leer.
Like it, do you? sill moving. No? e heard you did.
And at t, t me t nasty look I never understood. I understood it no once I guessed o Dr Cie, t time at Mrs Creams. t t s—t s, before Gentleman, as a to be mad—struck me like a bloo t. I Briar; but t t. It been toucco struggle, and to shriek.
Get off me! I s off me! Get off me! Get off!
Nurse Bacon felt me ted it crack. Shere came blood on my cheek.
t quite say I t on struggling and sill. Nurse Bacon rolled from me; I t someone—probably, Nurse Spiller— me; yet still my fit kept on. I Betty started up bello otook up ts from ours. I tctles and cups! I aken frig men and ter anote, Dr Cie. . ill kicking and the blood from Nurse Bacons nose upon me.
S set her off?
Nurse Bacon said not ? Dr Cie said again. A dream?
A dream, s arted into life. Oie, s!
t made me sie said, Rigreatment for paroxysms. You men, and Nurse Spiller. Cold er plunge. ty minutes.
t it seemed to me no me uprig I o float. In fact, toes, next day. But I dont remember, noaken do floor, to t of t remember passing to t dark corridor, to t ts, tiles beneat—but, only dimly. I recall most is to, at t, as t up and s over ter; t, as I pulled against traps.
t fly the shock,
as t it—ter over my face, t into my moutried to gasp—t, wtered and coughed.
I t they had hanged me.
I t I e to o plunge. Fifteen plunges in all. Fifteen seen tugs on the rope of my life.
After t, I dont remember anything.
t er all. I lay in darkness. I did not dream. I did not t say I e myself, again. For s and took me back to my old room, and I like a lamb. I t and, like t notalk of putting canvas bracelets on me, in case I s in anot; but I lay so quietly, tie, in my beted it, and I supposed t, getting me alone, s—I t, if saken t it seemed to me t s me oddly; and me. No it? e must of fun, mustnt we? or we should go mad . . .
I turned my face aill c care. I cared for not up my nerve and my spirit, all t time. I ed for my c noo gro ering curtain across it. ried to go over treets of t my reets. If
ty—a place so different from ty I kne migo anso Maud and Mrs Rivers; sometimes it seemed to me I must be Maud, since so many people said I imes I even seemed to dream, not my o imes to remember t shem.
t Nurse Bacon—greer t I I got used to being s used to seeing oturn. I got used to it all. I got used to my bed, to to Miss ilson and Mrs Price, to Betty, to Dr Cie. I s, no I ter, but only t my malady aken a different turn, and urn back. Until it did, t in trying to cure me; so opped trying. I trutoget so , and t money. No and looked into my mout stay long in t all, once t most of our time t used to t.
God knoo. God kno place—maybe, years. Maybe as long as poor Miss ilson: for per put be today. I still t and s never out; and Mrs Sucksby and Mr Ibbs, and Gentleman, and Maud— whey be, now?
I t, too.
But t out. Blame Fortune. Fortunes blind, and une sent roy to t
it?—and a prince, to ty. Fortune kept me at Dr Cies nearly all t summer long; ten to me.
ter time in July. tupid I by till a in ted for to be rung; and, in ternoons, you o to do. to stay aime pass. I slept as muc so muc o come or, to ell me again; and .
A visitor? I said.
Nurse Spiller folded
Nurse Bacon, will rubbing her knuckles and wincing. Bad? she said.
Like scorpions stings, Nurse Spiller.
Nurse Spiller tutted. I said again,
A visitor? For me?
Soday, or not?
I did not kno I rose, on s—for if tor , leman. My point, t I only kne I . I looked at Miss ilson. I I o if Gentleman came I , t of seeing ed, it made me sick.
Nurse Spiller sae. Come on, s mind your my o my o be, tter. Saves disappointment, dont it? S Nurse Bacon. then: Come on!
scumbled after o tairs.
It kno yet, for on ednesdays Dr Cie and Dr Graves off in to drum up neics, and t. Some nurses, and one or tanding about in taking breatte and, look at me, t o come, and feeling sicker and stranger by the second.
In o my arm and pulled me to been used in a wors are away. You hear me?
So t voice, to ting there.
I ed Gentleman. It
second of my seeing a rusment so s s ranger, and supposed t take, ures in a be of last, at last—as if o ts or cloudy er—at last I kne. ilted me, and past Nurse Spiller, as if t Maud must be coming along be me again, and his eyes grew wide.
And it , t saved me. time t Mrs Creams, t me and seen, not Maud, but Sue. t. ture, too—for in tanding in ting slip from me and then come
back baffled, my oo leave me and I formed a plan. I formed it .
It e.
C used to speaking, and it came out like a croak. C be very c oo come and make a visit to your old mistress!
And I to taking my eyes away from o me and I w weeping, in his ear:
Say Im all! Say Im her! Oh, please say Im her!
I kept . epped back. a scarlet line across all over. h. he said,
Miss, I— Miss—
Of course, , at Briar. t of nasty satisfaction, ell, aint it marvellous Dr Cie be pleased?
I turned and cauganding? t s rig. Not too close, t say art clas better. Nos kicking up, you sing out—all right?
e , in till looked beood in t c surned o to nod and murmur to the nurses beyond.
I still give it up. I leaned towards rembling, and spoke in a whisper. I said,
Co see anyone, anyone in all my life! You o help me.
he same low voice,
You are Miss Smith?
o er. But you mustnt say it say— I glanced at Nurse Spiller, tly still. You must say Im Miss Lilly. Dont
ask me why.
Dr Cie my malady aken a different turn, but being sure, in time, to turn back. I if I Maud, find a o keep me closer—peroo.—In oterror urned my brain. But I also plan. It he second.
Dont ask me rick Im mad, Charles.
a great el. I supposed I should find Miss Lilly here. And—and Mr Rivers.
Mr Rivers, I said. O devil! o London o be mine. a pair! t me o die—!
My voice : someone else—someone really mad—mig of my mouto keep from talking louder. I squeezed t out of ts. And I glanced fearfully to turned. So t and opped me. urned from flaming scarlet, to we. he said, in a whisper,
Mr Rivers, gone to London?
to London, I said, or to o wonder!
core h his hands.
O as I hen Im ruined!
And to my very great astonis, o cry.
ory came leaking out, tears. It turned out t—just as I s Briar seemed a life not leman it so o mope. eward aken a wo him.
t ing, miss, of my disappointed .
, in a made me tised it; tiff, as if o suffer any blo terly— .
I to notice. a gentleman! O aint he?
arted crying again. Nurse Spiller looked over and curled t ives, at Dr Cies.
o turned back to C tle longer and, as , studied I seen at first—t y, and range—iff to make it lie smoot.
ly,
Be a good boy noell me trut you, from Briar?
h.
Mr Rivers used to say to me, miss, ake me on to man for , I all, tay at Briar. But o find , in London? t stir, aking off. ts er np-one e sure. t a scandal. o anotc cooks. Mr Lilly aint in mind. Mr ay o feed him his dinners off a spoon!
Mrs Cakebread, I said, fros: eacime one , anot of my brain greh Mr Rivers?
I dont knoook o feel it. For first; to some of . t on s , in a great sent to my auntys, to look at c never cured mine, t;
I opped listening. t in my ook his hand again. Black-faced pigs? I said, screwing up my eyes. he nodded.
y was Mrs Cream.
I suppose its like t in try. I to ask name. in tratress, t y o talk of tleman and lady t ly married, once oget son, he
coac ties was.
I supposed it a great el, ts before, and in ditcoo late, o turn back, e for Mr Rivers. t mean a kind lady Miss Maud al if anyone salk Mr Rivers round to taking me on, she should. And now—!
o tremble. Really, Mr ay o be so tearful, and at any otime, in any ot for no ears, and to my bruised and desperate eyes they were like so many pick-locks and keys.
Co o seem calm. You cant go back to Briar.
I cant, miss, ! Mr ay would skin me alive!
And I dare say your aunty dont you. s Mr Rivers youre after. ill crying.
ten to me, I said—barely speaking at all, barely o me. I can take you to ake you to first, you must of here.
If it quite true t I kne quite a lie, eitty certain t, once I reac I oo. Cared at me, and , miss, just whenever you please?
I s keeps me s t nurse? See ty nurses ; and to use em. No my face. Am I mad?
he looked, and blinked. ell—
Of course I aint. But ics so crafty, tors and nurses cant see them.
Again me—just as, a moment before, I time. my s. I dre under my skirt.
I— Im not sure, he said.
Not sure? Not sure of o go back to your auntys and live to go and be man to Mr Rivers, in London—London, mind! Remember ts a boy can ride on for a sricky c.
Nurse Spiller. Saken out a ch.
Pigs? I said quickly. Or eleps? to be? For Gods sake, which?
he worked his lips. v
Eleps, er a terrible silence
Good boy. Good boy. ten. ?
he swallowed. Five shillings and sixpence, he said.
All rig you must do. You must go to any to you must ask to my eyes. I t I felt t cloudy er rising again, t flapping curtain. I nearly screamed in frigain dreer s it. If t sell it, you must steal one. No look like t! e s t safe. Go next to a blacksmit a file—see
my fingers?—same it. Keep t ednesday, only ednesday and me? Charles?
ared. I o gro t me and c the door-place and was headed our way.
times up, she said.
e stood. I kept o keep from sinking. I looked at Co now reac again.
Youll remember, you, w Ive said?
ened let them go.
Dont leave me! I said. t leave me, please!
he jumped.
Noime for this. Come on.
So ungrip my fingers. It took or t o h.
Sad, aint it? Nurse Spiller said to my o, t takes tter not to come at all, ter not to remind em of igo tell your people t, w a sad way you found you?
o me, and nodded. I said,
Ceettering about t mind it. Its not all.
But I could see me no I must be mad, after all; and if t, t Dr Cies house for ever, I should never see Mrs
Sucksby and never t let me go. Anoto see Co t me c o keep from running after. As , urned, and stumbled, and met my gaze. tried to smile, and suppose the smile was dreadful.
Youll remember! I called, my voice range. Youll remember ts!
ter trengts! tood and laug me, until t.
t errible one. I my oo it. Say I greo it again, in seven days? Say I greupid? Say Coo funked to knoo keep myself from slipping into a dream again. I pincil t my oongue. Eac days noticed. day is today? Id ask Miss ilson and Mrs Price. Of course, t, Good Friday. then Id ask Nurse Bacon.
day is today, Nurse Bacon?
Punis Day, shed answer, wincing and rubbing her hands.
t, after all, C come— t I oo mad—t aken by disaster. I t of all t mig people, rained, and I t of tcer and ning; and I imagined ering under a tree, h a file in his hand . . .
t. tie off in te in t to our room, looked at me and said, ell, aint . e sting out t te ...quot; S, she said.
time, C in ts as before and, again, Nurse Spiller stood in t for a minute in silence. e as chalk. I said, in a whisper,
C?
he nodded.
the blank?
he nodded again.
the file?
Anot my hand before my eyes.
But tone, cost nearly all my money. t some blanks are blanker told me t. I got t he had.
I parted my fingers, and met his gaze.
how much did you give him? I asked.
three shillings, miss.
then, Never mind, I said. Never mind. Good boy . . .
told do next. I said for me, t nigies park ree gre for me t all nigo—for I could not say, for sure, ake me. only , and be ready to run. And if I did not come at all, kno someto stop me; and t come back t nig again— do t, ts over.
And if you dont come, then? he asked, his eyes wide.
If I dont come to London, and you find out a street named Lant Street, and a lady t lives there,
named Mrs Sucksby; and you tell lady loves me!—and s to do.
I turned my er. You got it? I said at last. You swear?
s let ry and slip me t t, and I just before I left o see up my sleeve. to—t upstairs, I stooped as if to tug up a stocking, and let it fall into one of my boots.
t of all ts. I do o make my copy.
I did it like this.
t nig in her chair and flexed her fingers, I said,
Let me rub your onigead of Betty. Betty doesnt like it. She grease makes her smell like a chop.
Bettys mouth fell open. Oh! Oh! she cried.
God enoug, Betty!—Like a cer all my kindness?
I never! said Betty. I never!
S me do it instead. Look and soft my hands are.
Nurse Bacon looked, not at my fingers, but at my face. tty, s up! s a ro Id rat girl t tip of o the
edge of t in and pulled it back. Fetc, so me.
S ated, t in my of c. t littlest one, s and let t to t out tty lay on omaco back and put up beside ment in, all about as I done a imes. I rubbed for me from beneatful smiled.
Not so bad, is it? she murmured. Eh?
I didnt ans of of t and to come. If my colour for a blusrange, and conscious of myself, to range, t last sretc gave a t s see it. I moved from o take tment back to its cupboard. My to do o do. ted—to t. I did not plan to steal it, siced if I men came all time to Lant Street, s of soap, and putty, and into the jar.
took tting, good as anyt it once, t ts s only pretended to lock. took it back to Nurse Bacon, and s ip of humb, like before.
Rigo put in to ttom. ts right.
I meet to my bed, and s in il Nurse Spiller brougs. I used to taking mine, along
tonigipped it ao ttress, time—ty boc of fever, to see . If so tting, or any small to t open, and locked it, and spoiled my plan, I cant say o despair of and dropped it; ground t till s on. t up, and put goand, rubbing omacton of all t me, seeming to turn some idea over in her mind . . .
But t . S t into arted snoring.
I counted ed ty I rose, like a g, crept back to t out the jar of grease.
t my copy. I cant say took. I only kno took s and blankets bunc my o muffle till t in time to Nurse Bacons snores. And I could not file too quickly even to be matcs op and flex t, t errible o be doing in a desperate mood. I seemed to feel t slipping a me and be brougo myself—to till I feared t time opped and I s in it for ever. No-one called out
t nig as I kne Cing, on ties ing for me; and t, beyond ing—per my name ... It must of t, t gave me courage and made true.
For at last time o t ts all matc, in a sort of daze. My fingers ained from t numb from gripping. I dared not stay to bind tartan goook up my rubber boots. I also took Nurse Bacons comb.—t t. I lifted it from off able, and, as I did, s s ood quite still, looking into . I t, ed sricked of , when Id said I would rub her hands.
Queer, t sucimes. I ce, t to t turned it. Please, God, I of my days, I s cauguck. Fuck! Fuck! I said. t cut true after all: no turn, eiter! O ried again—still not last I let it go. I silently back to my bed, got Nurse Bacons ointment jar, stole back to t grease across t into t fainting ime—time, it worked.
to be got ter t. t stuck, and must be greased— and every time, I so he
lock, and on faster. But no-one and quiet, tairs and e still. t door ed and latc need a key for t. I left it open be ime t I a frigo cross t of gravel tep, and tly, , and almost died. I t it es, I t your— one of t t t stifled, and there came silence.
I did not to see ly, at first, across trip of gravel—t and look back at t t till inside it. I so say I and to ttle o find; but I did not. I didnt save anyone but myself. I oo afraid. I found tallest tree: it took me anoto get myself up ts in its trunk—to fall, to try again—to fall a second time, a to o its lo branco climb from to to I did not . I jumped. I t ruck him.
t t dog set off anot h.
Come on! I said.
I caugurned our backs to the wall, and ran and ran.
e ran t ill dark, too afraid, at first, to take time to
find t. Every noumble, or sloo press o ilt my en; but to birds, and breezes, and mice. Soon ter, and trip of a road. kno ood on any kind of pato co take. I looked about me, and tening sky seemed suddenly vast and fearful. ting. I t of London. to he fear passed from me.
It , time tand for a minute and t as if I ington, to me o take. o , but I t or coac out after us, from t of a gate in a donkey-cart, did I t one of Dr Cies men: ourselves in us ride beside ts and stitc stood up like coir, and I , so put a my er, and going back to London after a stay y.
London, ey years t right?
us do t toake from t nine or ten miles. e y more to do. till early morning. e found a bakers s bread; but t my s, I ones. tarted.
Seven oclock, I said. I felt suddenly gloomy. I looked at Nurse
Bacons comb. ty bed; if t found it already
Mr ay will be poliso
jump.
ts, I said quickly. I bet t a polislemans shoes.
Is it?
t made ter. e finis by us rathe bakers shop had.
tinkers, said Cched him pass.
But I imagined men coming from t after a girl in a tartan dress and rubber boots. Lets go, I said, and took a quiet pat off across fields. e kept as muco to walk on.
tterflies, and bees. Noopped and untied t my been furttle ters on my , e s to London!
But eacime I t it, I t of Mrs Sucksby, and imagined turned up at t Street door. t of Maud, wherever she was; and imagined her face.
o me, hered me. I said,
tell me, C colour are Miss Lillys eyes? Are they brown, or blue?
me strangely.
I they are brown, miss.
Are you sure?
I think so, miss.
I too.
But I sure. I tle faster. Cing.
Near noon t day tle cottages, on to a village. I made Cop, and ood bec one, a girl stood ser a minute s inside, and t anot passed back and fort looking out. t cottage do I guessed t be sometealing: I t of going to trying tc as I stood, te tle cying on a bonnet and kissing the children good-bye.
No, so t one, mind you co give you your egg. You may he needle.
Yes, Ma, said t o be kissed, tood on te and s. tage—past me and C kno; for ill hidden behind our hedge.
I co ttle girl—e nootage door. t Charles. I said,
Ce turned our last. Give me a sixpence, in . Not t one. you got a brighter?
I took test an extra she sleeve of my gown.
are you going to do, miss? he asked.
Never mind. Stay le.
I stood and straig; t out from bely over to te of ttage, as if I
tle girl turned her head and saw
me.
All rig. I just met your ma. Look here,
a nice one? S;Please give to my little girl Janet, and tell o please go quick to t; Said s, just no you? Good girl. Kno is suctle girl, tell o over, for ss.quot; As, do you? So do I. Nice, aint t eet got all your teet. O tring! Better nip do come up. Ill stay t sixpence stle brot you to take h you? Good girl
It trick ted doing it; but ime I spoke, I me, at ttages, and along t no-one came. ttle girl put t of aggered ac, ted into t ty poor place, but in a trunk upstairs I found a pair of black s dress, put in paper. I t t to God! I almost didnt take it; but in the end, I did.
And I also took a black stra, a sockings, a pie from try; and a knife.
to the hedge where Charles was hiding.
turn round, I said, as I curn round! Dont look so frightened, you bloody big girl. Damn her! Damn her!
I meant Maud. I tle girl, Janet, coming back to ttage s. I ime for tea, and finding her wedding-gown gone.
Damn her!
I got till titc to t. Ccerror on his face.
Dont look at me, you infant! I said. O tened of someone coming. I took t it back next to my bosom, and tied up trings of t. I ts into a ditcers on my feet tockings . ttern of roses on it, and t t look—like a picture, I t, of a milkmaid on a dairy wall.
But t try. e left t back to ter a time anothen we walked again.
e still h:
You took t go asking. I took t youll eat it, tful. e spent t in to me, run off to Briar ed until , tied ts to tried to. ing boy; but I kneer no if I o, I ill seemed far off. till smelled too pure. Some time in t I ood in a circle and looked us over, and one of t tell me ts natural. I ried to run—of course, ook my foot off. I undid our laces. e
back of the sun
rise over a hill.
t means east, said C er, but teep one and o top, tening up. I t, t of t ry of England, s rivers and its roads and its s cs cs rising taller, try spread; until at last, at t point of all, tain, a darkness—a darkness, like t ips of domes and steeples, tering points of light.
London, I said. Oh, London!