I'd
only one thing to hold me up: I was an honest woman, and I made up
my mind I'd keep honest, though I had such a man as you for my
husband. I've hungered and worked, and I've made a living for myself
and my child as best I could. I'm not like you: I've done nothing to
disgrace myself. Now I will slave no more. You won't run away from
me this time. Leave me for a single night, and I go to the nearest
police-station and tell all I know about you. If I wasn't a fool I'd
do it now. But I've hungered and worked for seven years, and now
it's time _my husband_ did something for me.'
'You always had a head for argument, Clara,' he replied coolly. 'But
I can't get over that dream of mine. Really a queer thing, wasn't
it? Who'd have thought of you turning barmaid? With your education,
I should have thought you could have done something in the teaching
line. Never mind. The queerest thing of all is that I'm really half
glad to see you. How's Jack?'
The extraordinary conversation went on as they walked towards the
street where Clara lived. It was in a poor part of Westminster.
Reaching the house, Clara opened the door with a latchkey.
Two women were standing in the passage.
'This is my husband, Mrs. Rook,' Clara said to one of them. 'He's
just got back from abroad.
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