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The Little Nugget, a novel by P G Wodehouse |
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Part 2 - Peter Burns' Narrative - Chapter 5 |
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_ Peter Burns' Narrative: Chapter 5
My resentment deepened. Fate had played me a wanton trick. Cynthia But I would fight, I told myself. I would not yield easily. I My opportunity came after breakfast. She was standing on the It meant war, and I was glad of it. I wanted war. 'Good morning,' I said. 'Good morning.' There was a pause. I took the opportunity to collect my thoughts. I looked at her curiously. Five years had left their mark on her, In appearance she had changed amazingly little. She looked as I awoke with a start to the fact that I was staring at her. A 'Don't!' she said suddenly, with a little gesture of irritation. The word and the gesture killed, as if they had been a blow, a 'What are you doing here?' I asked. She was silent. 'Please don't think I want to pry into your affairs,' I said She turned to me impulsively. Her face had lost its hard look. 'Oh, Peter,' she said, 'I'm sorry. I _am_ sorry.' It was my chance, and I snatched at it with a lack of chivalry 'Sorry?' I said, politely puzzled. 'Why?' She looked taken aback, as I hoped she would. 'For--for what happened.' 'My dear Audrey! Anybody would have made the same mistake. I don't 'I didn't mean that. I meant--five years ago.' I laughed. I was not feeling like laughter at the moment, but I 'Surely you're not worrying yourself about that?' I said. I The brief moment in which we might have softened towards each 'I thought you would get over it,' she said. 'Well,' I said, 'I was only twenty-five. One's heart doesn't break 'I don't think yours would ever be likely to break, Peter.' 'Is that a compliment, or otherwise?' 'You would probably think it a compliment. I meant that you were 'So that's your idea of a compliment!' 'I said I thought it was probably yours.' 'I must have been a curious sort of man five years ago, if I gave 'You were.' She spoke in a meditative voice, as if, across the years, she were 'I suppose you looked on me as a kind of ogre in those days?' I 'I suppose I did.' There was a pause. 'I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,' she said. And that was the 'You were very kind,' she went on, 'sometimes--when you happened Considered as the best she could find to say of me, it was not an 'Well,' I said, 'we needn't discuss what I was or did five years 'You think the situation's embarrassing?' 'I do.' 'One of us ought to go, I suppose,' she said doubtfully. 'Exactly.' 'Well, I can't go.' 'Nor can I.' 'I have business here.' 'Obviously, so have I.' 'It's absolutely necessary that I should be here.' 'And that I should.' She considered me for a moment. 'Mrs Attwell told me that you were one of the assistant-masters 'I am acting as assistant-master. I am supposed to be learning the She hesitated. 'Why?' she said. 'Why not?' 'But--but--you used to be very well off.' 'I'm better off now. I'm working.' She was silent for a moment. 'Of course it's impossible for you to leave. You couldn't, could 'No.' 'I can't either.' 'Then I suppose we must face the embarrassment.' 'But why must it be embarrassing? You said yourself you had--got 'Absolutely. I am engaged to be married.' She gave a little start. She drew a pattern on the gravel with her 'I congratulate you,' she said at last. 'Thank you.' 'I hope you will be very happy.' 'I'm sure I shall.' She relapsed into silence. It occurred to me that, having posted 'How in the world did you come to be here?' I said. 'It's rather a long story. After my husband died--' 'Oh!' I exclaimed, startled. 'Yes; he died three years ago.' She spoke in a level voice, with a ring of hardness in it, for 'I have been looking after myself for a long time.' 'In England?' 'In America. We went to New York directly we--directly I had 'But what brought you to Sanstead?' 'Some years ago I got to know Mr Ford, the father of the little 'And you are dependent on your work? I mean--forgive me if I am 'He left no money at all.' 'Who was he?' I burst out. I felt that the subject of the dead man 'He was an artist, a friend of my father.' I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know what he looked like, how 'So your work here is all you have?' I said. 'Absolutely all. And, if it's the same with you, well, here we 'Here we are!' I echoed. 'Exactly.' 'We must try and make it as easy for each other as we can,' she 'Of course.' She looked at me in that curious, wide-eyed way of hers. 'You have got thinner, Peter,' she said. 'Have I?' I said. 'Suffering, I suppose, or exercise.' Her eyes left my face. I saw her bite her lip. 'You hate me,' she said abruptly. 'You've been hating me all these She turned and began to walk slowly away, and as she did so a 'Audrey!' I called. She stopped. I went to her. 'Audrey!' I said, 'you're wrong. If there's anybody I hate, it's Her lips parted, but she did not speak. 'I understand just what made you do it,' I went on. 'I can see now 'You're saying that to--to help me,' she said in a low voice. 'No. I have felt like that about it for years.' 'I treated you shamefully.' 'Nothing of the kind. There's a certain sort of man who badly 'I'm sorry, Peter.' 'Nonsense. You knocked some sense into me. That's all you did. 'You're generous.' 'Nothing of the kind. It's only that I see things clearer than I 'You weren't!' 'I was. Well, we won't quarrel about it.' Inside the house the bell rang for breakfast. We turned. As I drew 'Peter,' she said. She began to speak quickly. 'Peter, let's be sensible. Why should we let this embarrass us, She held out her hand. She was smiling, but her eyes were grave. 'Old friends, Peter?' I took her hand. 'Old friends,' I said. And we went in to breakfast. On the table, beside my plate, was Content of Part 2 - Peter Burns' Narrative: Chapter 5 [P G Wodehouse's novel: The Little Nugget] _ |