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legs in the firelight.
The girl stood up to lower the kettle on the crane, For the
first time Pentland realised that Mrs Gomartin was absent. "Is your
mother reading?" he asked, looking behind him into the shadows as if
expecting to see her seated there. Sarah, who had been lifting cups
off the dresser, started at his question. "My mother?" she repeated,
and then after the faintest hesitation; "Did yo not know? She went back
t'Banyil last week."
Ah." There was such a note of comprehension in Pentland's voice
that Echlin rained his head sharply, and Sarah paused, her hand on a
cup on the dresser. Pentland's eyes moved unseeingly over the objects
on the mantelpiece. On his mouth was a bitter triumphant smile. He
rose abruptly, buttoning his jacket. “I’ll go now' he said, without
looking at the girl. The kettle’s near singing” she said in a small
despairing voice.
His heart smote him and he looked at her. But even as he looked
he was smothered in hatred and a desire to hurt her. Without moving his
eye a hairsbreadth he could see Echlin seated at the fire. There they
were, both of then in the same vision, close together, waiting for him
to go. And in her greed she wanted him too. In her insatiable childish
greed she wanted everybody. He, him and Hamilton, if she hasn’t got him.
"1 don't think I'll wait" he said, with as much malice and contempt in
his voice as he could summon. He saw her wince and her eyes darken.
He turned away to the door almost choking with Joy. God, if there was
no end to the suffering he could make her go through: Then he became
cunning. There was the faintest droop to his shoulders as he lifted
the latch. Goodnight" he said without raising his head. He went
