“There’s your supper, Father.”
The women stopped and looked round at this. Siegmund bent his head lower. Vera resumed her talk. It died out, and there was silence.
Siegmund was hungry.
“Oh, good Lord, good Lord! bread of humiliation tonight!” he said to himself before he could muster courage to rise and go to the table. He seemed to be shrinking inwards. The women glanced swiftly at him and away from him as his chair creaked and he got up. Frank was watching from under his eyebrows.
Siegmund went through the ordeal of eating and drinking in presence of his family. If he had not been hungry, he could not have done it, despite the fact that he was content to receive humiliation this night. He swallowed the coffee with effort. When he had finished he sat irresolute for some time; then he arose and went to the door.
“Good night!” he said.
Nobody made any reply. Frank merely stirred in his chair. Siegmund shut the door and went.
There was absolute silence in the room till they heard him turn on the tap in the bathroom; then Beatrice began to breathe spasmodically, catching her breath as if she would sob. But she restrained herself. The faces of the two children set hard with hate.
“He is not worth the flicking of your little finger, Mother,” said Vera.
Beatrice moved about with pitiful, groping hands, collecting her sewing and her cottons.