Page:Delight - de la Roche - 1926.djvu/115

 for my starved looks wiv  ' er gettin' fat on you! Do you think—oh, 'ave you no 'eart?—that I'll soak my pillow wiv my tears every night, and  ' er red 'ead a-snugglin' where mine should be?"

She panted like a caged thing struggling to be free.

"You think I'll sneak around 'ere bein' yer mistress while she pl'ys the wife! Well, you're wrong. I'm finished. I'm goin'. I'll be on the ocean in two d'ys. I've the money. I earned it, and earned it honest. I didn't tyke up wiv' anyone. I could 'ave earned money wrongfully. But I'm honest and—I'm goin'—damn you!"

He was groping towards her, his eyes swimming in tears, his mouth contorted. His voice came in a strangled sob.

"Me too. Me too, M'y. I want to go 'ome. S'elp me, I'll desert 'er, if you've passage money fer two!"

May had not yet drained the cup of triumph, though Albert's bag was packed and they were almost ready to steal into the night. She cleared the table of dishes and, with a charred stick, wrote clearly on its clean surface:

The cat watched the feverish preparations for departure. He saw the lights put out. With brilliant green eyes, he beheld the two dark figures become one with the outer darkness. The door was closed, and he was alone in the hot little room. He rubbed his furry cheek against a table leg, then the length of his supple body. With tail erect he caressed himself, and thought: "After all, there's nothing like love."