Soap Info

Next Soap (67) | Previous Soap (65)

look at her, passersby turned round and stared. The whole of
the gaily dressed throng seemed to be one amused gaze. In' a
moment or two I became conscious that reprehensory glances were
being directed towards myself, calling me, as plain as eyes could
call, an illconditioned brute, for making the poor young
creature, who was at my mercy, thus break down in public. It was
a charming situation for an eventempered philosopher. We walked
stolidly on, I glaring in front of me and Carlotta weeping. The
malice of things arranged that ne. neighbouring chair should be
vacant, and that the path should be unusually crowded. I had the
satisfaction of hearing a young fellow say to a girl:
He? That's Ordeynecame into the baroaetcymad as a dingo
dog.
I was giving myself a fine advertisement.
For heaven's sake stop crying, I said. Then a memory of
faroff childhood flashed its inspiration upon me. If you don't,
I added, grimly, I'll take you out and give you to a policeman.
The effect was magical. She turned on me a scared look, gasped,
pulled down her veil, which she had raised so as to dab her eyes
with her pockethandkerchief, and incontinently checked the
fountain of her tears.
A policeman?
Yes, said I, a great, big, ugly blue policeman, who shuts up
people who misbehave themselves in prison, and takes off their
clothes, and shaves their heads, and feeds them on bread and
water.
I won't cry any more, she said, swallowing a sob. Is it also
wicked to cry?
Any of these ladies here would sooner be burned alive with
dyspepsia or cut in two with tightlacing, I replied severely.
Let us sit down.
We stepped over the low iron rail, and passing through the first
two rows of people, found seats behind where the crowd was
thinner.
Is Seer Marcous still angry with me? asked Carlotta, and the
simple plaintiveness of her voice would have melted the bust of
Nero. I lectured her on cruelty to animals. That one had duties
of kindness towards the lower creation appealed to her as a
totally new idea. Supposing the dog had broken all its legs and
ribs, would she not have been sorry? She answered frankly in the
negative. It was a nasty little dog. If she had hurt it badly,
so much the better. What did it matter if a dog was hurt? She
was sorry now she had hurled it into space, because it belonged
to my friends, and that had made me cross with her.
Of course I was shocked at the thoughtless cruelty of the action;
but my anger had also its roots in dismay at the public scandal

Next Soap (67) | Previous Soap (65)

Soap Index