|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 19
He was very tiny, tinier than any baby she had ever seen, as well he
might be considering that he had come into the world full seven weeks
before his time; his skin was very red; his eyes were very small, but
even they looked too large for his ridiculous face; his fingers were
fine, like little claws; and his hands--she could hardly feel their
feeble kneading of her breast. He was not at all a pretty baby, but he
was very light to hold.
Tyson had not the least objection to Stanistreet or Sir Peter and the
rest of them, they were welcome to stare at his wife as much as they
pleased; but he was insanely jealous of this minute masculine thing that
claimed so much of her attention. He began to have a positive dislike to
seeing her with the child. There was a strain of morbid sensibility in
his nature, and what was beautiful to him in a Botticelli Madonna,
properly painted and framed, was not beautiful--to him--in Mrs. Nevill
Tyson. He had the sentiment of the thing, as I said, but the thing
itself, the flesh and blood of it, was altogether too much for his
fastidious nerves. And yet once or twice he had seen her turn away from
him, clutching hastily at the open bodice of her gown; once she had
started up and left the room when he came into it; and, curious
contradiction that he was, it had hurt him indescribably. He thought he
recognized in these demonstrations a prouder instinct than feminine
false shame. It was as if she had tried to hide from him some sacred
thing--as if she had risen up in her indignation to guard the portals
of her soul. To be sure he was in no mood just then for entering
sanctuaries; but for all that he did not like to have the door slammed
in his face.
Thank heaven, the worst had not happened. The little creature's volatile
beauty fluttered back to her from time to time; there was a purified
transparent quality in it that had been wanting before. It had still the
trick of fluctuating, vanishing, as if it had caught something of her
soul's caprice; but while it was there Mrs. Nevill Tyson was a more
beautiful woman than she had been before. Some men might have preferred
this divine uncertainty to a more monotonous prettiness. Tyson was not
one of these.
One afternoon, about a fortnight after his return from town, he found her
sitting in the library with "the animal," as he called his son. There had
been a sound of singing, but it ceased as he came in. The child's shawl
was lying on the floor; he picked it up and pitched it to the other end
of the room. Then he came up to her and scanned her face closely.
"What's the matter with you?" he said.
"Nothing. Do I--do I look funny?" She put her hand to her hair, a trick
of Mrs. Nevill Tyson's when she was under criticism. She had been such an
untidy little girl.
"Oh, damned funny. Look here. You've had about enough of that. You must
stop it."
"What! Why?"
"Because it takes up your time, wastes your strength, ruins your
figure--it _has_ ruined your complexion--and it--it makes you a public
nuisance."
"I can't help it."
She got up and stood by the window with her back to Tyson. She still held
the child to her breast, but she was not looking at him; she was looking
away through the window, rocking her body slightly backwards and
forwards, either to soothe the child or to vent her own impatience.
Tyson's angry voice followed her. "Of course you can help it. Other women
can. You must wean the animal."
She turned. "Oh, Nevill, look at him--"
"I don't want to look at him."
"But--he's so ti-i-ny. Whatever _will_ he do?"
"Do? He'll do as other women's children do."
"He won't. He'll die."
"Not he. Catch him dying. He'll only howl more infernally than he's
howled before. That's all he'll do. Do him good too--teach him that he
can't get everything he wants in this vile world. But whatever he does
I'm not going to have you sacrificed to him."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|