Page 512 - sons-and-lovers

in service, I knew as soon as one of the maids came out in
bare shoulders what sort SHE was, going to her sixpenny
hop!’
‘Were you too good to go to a sixpenny hop?’ he said.
Clara sat with bowed head. His eyes were dark and glit-
tering. Mrs. Radford took the Dutch oven from the fire, and
stood near him, putting bits of bacon on his plate.
‘THERE’S a nice crozzly bit!’ she said.
‘Don’t give me the best!’ he said.
‘SHE’S got what SHE wants,’ was the answer.
There was a sort of scornful forbearance in the woman’s
tone that made Paul know she was mollified.
‘But DO have some!’ he said to Clara.
She looked up at him with her grey eyes, humiliated and
lonely.
‘No thanks!’ she said.
‘Why won’t you?’ he answered carelessly.
The blood was beating up like fire in his veins. Mrs. Rad-
ford sat down again, large and impressive and aloof. He left
Clara altogether to attend to the mother.
‘They say Sarah Bernhardt’s fifty,’ he said.
‘Fifty! She’s turned sixty!’ came the scornful answer.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you’d never think it! She made me want
to howl even now.’
‘I should like to see myself howling at THAT bad old
baggage!’ said Mrs. Radford. ‘It’s time she began to think
herself a grandmother, not a shrieking catamaran—-‘
He laughed.
‘A catamaran is a boat the Malays use,’ he said.

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