Counterparts
The bell rang furiously and, when Miss
Parker went to the tube, a furious voice called out in a piercing North
of Ireland accent:
-Send Farrington
here!
[...; The clerk Farrington is interrogated by Mr Alleyne, proprietor
of the solicitors firm.]
-I know nothing about
any other two letters, he said stupidly.
-You - know -
nothing. Of course you know nothing, said Mr Alleyne. Tell me, he
added, glancing first for approval to the lady beside him, do you take
me for a fool? Do you think me an utter fool?
The man glanced from
the ladys face to the little egg-shaped head and back again; and, almost
before he was aware of it, his tongue had found a felicitous moment:
-I dont think, sir,
he said, that thats a fair question to put to me.
There was a pause
in the very breathing of the clerks. Everyone was astounded (the author
of the witticism no less than his neighbours) and Miss Delacour, who was
a stout amiable person, began to smile broadly. Mr Alleyne flushed to
the hue of a wild rose and his mouth twitched with a dwarfs passion.
He shook his fist in the mans face till it seemed to vibrate like the
knob of some electric machine:
-You impertinent
ruffian! You impertinent ruffian! Ill make short work of you! Wait till
you see! Youll apologize to me for your impertinence or youll quit the
office instanter! Youll quit this, Im telling you, or youll apologize
to me!
[Farrington feels his great body again aching for the comfort
of the public-house and proceeds with acquaintances through a series
of drinking places..
[...] Presently two young
women with big hats and a young man in a check suit came in and sat at
a table close by. Weathers saluted them and told the company that they
were out of the Tivoli. Farringtons eyes wandered at every moment in
the direction of one of the young women. There was something striking
in her appearance. An immense scarf of peacock-blue muslin was wound round
her hat and knotted in a great bow under her chin; and she wore bright
yellow gloves, reaching to the elbow. Farrington gazed admiringly at the
plump arm which she moved very often and with much grace; and when, after
a little time, she answered his gaze he admired still more her large dark
brown eyes. The oblique staring expression in them fascinated him. She
glanced at him once or twice and, when the party was leaving the room,
she brushed against his chair and said O, pardon! in a London accent.
He watched her leave the room in the hope that she would look back at
him, but he was disappointed. He cursed his want of money and cursed all
the rounds he had stood, particularly all the whiskies and Apollinaris
which he had stood to Weathers. If there was one thing that he hated it
was a sponge. He was so angry that he lost count of the conversation of
his friends.
[To his mortification, Farrington loses
an arm-wrestling competition to Weathers, whom he has come to dislike increasingly, and then returns home.]
-Whats for my dinner?
-Im going
to cook it, pa, said the little boy. The man jumped up furiously and pointed
to the fire.
-On that fire! You
let the fire out! By God, Ill teach you to do that again!
He took a step to
the door and seized the walking-stick which was standing behind it.
-Ill teach you to
let the fire out! he said, rolling up his sleeve in order to give his
arm free play.
The little boy cried
O, pa! and ran whimpering round the table, but the man followed
him and caught him by the coat. The little boy looked about him wildly
but, seeing no way of escape, fell upon his knees.
-Now, youll let
the fire out the next time! said the man, striking at him vigorously with
the stick. Take that, you little whelp!
The boy uttered a
squeal of pain as the stick cut his thigh. He clasped his hands together
in the air and his voice shook with fright.
-O, pa! he cried.
Dont beat me, pa! And Ill
Ill say a Hail Mary for you
Ill say a Hail Mary for you, pa, if you dont beat me
Ill say a Hail Mary
.
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