i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (the false prince .TXT) 📕

sot got to? The room was cold; the fire that had glowed for a little while had died down under its heap of coal dust If that old hag didn't come back he'd be in a nice fix; the mother downstairs was less than useless, scared to death of her man, and of this event, and of life in general. If that Clarke woman didn't come back. But why was he harping on about her not coming back? She was a midwife. of sorts; it was her job. But he had had a little experience of her during these last few months, and he had come to recognise her as a fawning leech, picking her victims from among the poorer of her own kind.

"Oh, doctor Oh, God!"

Easing the bedclothes off the contorted figure he moved his hands quickly over her. Then he covered her up again and banged on the floor with his heel. In a few seconds the door was opened quietly, and the mother stood there, clutching her holland apron in both hands.

"Has Mrs. Glarke come back yet?"

"No, doctor."

"Then will you kindly get this fire to burn? Put wood on it."

"There's no wood, doctor; there's only the slack."

"Can't you break up something?"

She looked at him helplessly; her lips twitched, and her tongue seemed to be moving at random in her mouth. He couldn't meet her eyes. He thrust his hand into his pocket and handed her a sovereign. She looked at it, lying bright and yellow on her palm. Her tongue ran wild races between her teeth, but she made no sound.

"Get what's necessary," he said gruffly.

"And perhaps a chicken; Kate will likely need it tomorrow."

She nodded slowly at him, while her tongue, darting from side to side, caught the drops as they ran down her cheeks.

Kate was moaning; she could hear herself. The moans seemed to float around her, then rise up to the ceiling and stick on the mottled plaster. Most of them were right above her head, gathered together in the dark patch that formed the three-legged horse which had been her companion and secret confidant since childhood. He wouldn't mind having her moans; he thought all about her, her sins, the secret things she thought and was ashamed of, even her feeling sometimes that there couldn't be a God. It was, as she had once read, that people like Father O'Malley were only put there to stop people like her from thinking; for, if she once started thinking, she and her like wouldn't put up with things as they were. Jimmy McManus had lent her that book, but she had understood hardly anything at all of it. Yet, it was after reading it that she had gone and got the place is in Newcastle, in the best end . Shields wasn't good enough for her.

And it was after reading that very book that she had taken off all her clothes and had stood naked before the mirror, swinging its mottled square back and forth so that she could see every part of herself; and glorying in it as she did it, and knowing that she was beautiful, that she was fit to marry anybody. It was only her talk that was all wrong.

But she would learn; she was quick at picking things up. Of course, she had suffered for this. Her conscience had driven her to conession, and, in the dark box, with face ablaze, she had confessed the greatest sin of her life. The priest had told her she must guard against the sin of impurity by keeping a close watch on her thoughts; and he went on to explain how a great saint, when sorely tempted by the flesh, had thrown himself naked into a holly bush, or was it a bramble?

she wasn't sure now.

The moans floated thick about her. Where was John now? Did he know he was soon to be a father? Had he ever been a father before? He wasn't a husband, she wasn't a wife; yet she was having a baby. It was all her own fault, she couldn't blame John; he had never mentioned marriage to her. Her inherent honesty had told her so a thousand times these past months.

"John 1' she called out sharply as the doctor wiped the sweat from her face.

"It's all right, Kate, it's all right; it won't be long now."

It won't be long now! It won't be long now! the moans said. John's baby, with his slant eyes and beautiful mouth. It was as near as yesterday when she had first seen him, seated in the Jacksons'

drawing-room. Since two of the maids had been sent into town, she had been told that she was to serve tea . wee cakes and china cups.

Something had happened inside her when their eyes had first met. She had been glad to get out of the room and into the coolness of the hall.

He had been there only three days when he slipped a note to her, asking her to meet him. Oh, the mad joy! the ecstasy of love before its fulfilment! Even when she had given herself to him, it had not compared with the strange delight of knowing she was wanted; and by him, a gentleman who had

travelled the world. Twice he had taken her; only twice; and both times within a month, on her half-day. Right up Lanesby way they had gone; and he had told her she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, that he loved her as shed never be loved again, and that shed always be his. "Oh, doctor! Doctor!"

"It's all right," he assured her, as he went out of the room.

"Mrs.

Hannigan! " he shouted to the frightened face, framed