It recalled Maisie and past success,
reckless travels by land and sea, the glory of doing work and feeling that it
was good, and suggested all that might have happened had the eyes only been
faithful to their duty. When thinking ceased through sheer weariness, there
poured into Dick's soul tide on tide of overwhelming, purposeless fear--dread
of starvation always, terror lest the unseen ceiling should crush down upon
him, fear of fire in the chambers and a louse's death in red flame, and agonies
of fiercer horror that had nothing to do with any fear of death. Then Dick
bowed his head, and clutching the arms of his chair fought with his sweating
self till the tinkle of plates told him that something to eat was being set
before him.
Mr. Beeton would bring the meal when he had time to spare, and Dick learned to
hang upon his speech, which dealt with badly fitted gas-plugs, waste-pipes out
of repair, little tricks for driving picture-nails into walls, and the sins of
the charwoman or the housemaids. In the lack of better things the small gossip
of a servants' hall becomes immensely interesting, and the screwing of a washer
on a tap an event to be talked over for days.
Once or twice a week, too, Mr. Beeton would take Dick out with him when he went
marketing in the morning to haggle with tradesmen over fish, lamp-wicks,
mustard, tapioca, and so forth, while Dick rested his weight first on one foot
and then on the other and played aimlessly with the tins and string-ball on the
counter.
Pages:
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092