Next day George Griffith, on getting out of the station at Victoria,
jumped on a Fulham 'bus, taking his seat with the self-assertiveness of
the countryman who intends to show the Londoners that he's as good as
they are. He was in some trepidation and his best clothes. He didn't
know what to say to Daisy, and his hands sweated uncomfortably. When he
knocked at the door he wished she might be out--but that would only be
postponing the ordeal.
'Does Mrs Hogan live here?'
'Yes. Who shall I say?'
'Say a gentleman wants to see her.'
He followed quickly on the landlady's heels and passed through the door
the woman opened while she was giving the message. Daisy sprang to her
feet with a cry.
'George!'
She was very pale, her blue eyes dim and lifeless, with the lids heavy
and red; she was in a dressing gown, her beautiful hair dishevelled,
wound loosely into a knot at the back of her head. She had not half the
beauty of her old self.... George, to affirm the superiority of virtue
over vice, kept his hat on.
She looked at him with frightened eyes, then her lips quivered, and
turning away her head she fell on a chair and burst into tears. George
looked at her sternly. His indignation was greater than ever now that he
saw her. His old jealousy made him exult at the change in her.
'She's got nothing much to boast about now,' he said to himself, noting
how ill she looked.
'Oh, George!'... she began, sobbing; but he interrupted her.
'I've come from father,' he said, 'and we don't want to have anything
more to do with you, and you're not to write.'
'Oh!' She looked at him now with her eyes suddenly quite dry. They
seemed to burn her in their sockets. 'Did he send you here to tell me
that?'
'Yes; and you're not to come down.'
She put her hand to her forehead, looking vacantly before her.
'But what am I to do? I haven't got any money; I've pawned everything.'
George looked at her silently; but he was horribly curious.
'Why did he leave you?' he said.
She made no answer; she looked before her as if she were going out of
her mind.
'Has he left you any money?' asked George.
Then she started up, her cheeks flaming red.
'I wouldn't touch a halfpenny of his. I'd rather starve!' she screamed.
George shrugged his shoulders.
'Well, you understand?' he said.
'Oh, how can you! It's all you and mother. You've always hated me. But
I'll pay you out, by God! I'll pay you out. I know what you are, all of
you--you and mother, and all the Blackstable people. You're a set of
damned hypocrites.'
'Look here, Daisy! I'm not going to stand here and hear you talk like
that of me and mother,' he replied with dignity; 'and as for the
Blackstable people, you're not fit to--to associate with them. And I
can see where you learnt your language.'
Daisy burst into hysterical laughter. George became more
angry--virtuously indignant.
'Oh, you can laugh as much as you like! I know your repentance is a lot
of damned humbug. You've always been a conceited little beast. And
you've been stuck up and cocky because you thought yourself
nice-looking, and because you were educated in Tercanbury. And no one
was good enough for you in Blackstable. And I'm jolly glad that all this
has happened to you; it serves you jolly well right. And if you dare to
show yourself at Blackstable, we'll send for the police.'
Daisy stepped up to him.
'I'm a damned bad lot,' she said, 'but I swear I'm not half as bad as
you are.... You know what you're driving me to.'
'You don't think I care what you do,' he answered, as he flung himself
out of the door. He slammed it behind him, and he also slammed the front
door to show that he was a man of high principles. And even George
Washington when he said, 'I cannot tell a lie; I did it with my little
hatchet,' did not feel so righteous as George Griffith at that moment.
Daisy went to the window to see him go, and then, throwing up her arms,
she fell on her knees, weeping, weeping, and she cried,--
'My God, have pity on me!'