"I don't care which! Say cherry brandy… Sue has served me badly, very badly. I didn't expect it of Sue! I stuck to her, and she ought to have stuck to me. I'd have sold my soul for her sake, but she wouldn't risk hers a jot for me. To save her own soul she lets mine go damn! … But it isn't her fault, poor little girl—I am sure it isn't!"
How Arabella had obtained money did not appear, but she ordered a liqueur each, and paid for them. When they had drunk these Arabella suggested another; and Jude had the pleasure of being, as it were, personally conducted through the varieties of spirituous delectation by one who knew the landmarks well. Arabella kept very considerably in the rear of Jude; but though she only sipped where he drank, she took as much as she could safely take without losing her head—which was not a little, as the crimson upon her countenance showed.
Her tone towards him to-night was uniformly soothing and cajoling; and whenever he said "I don't care what happens to me," a thing he did continually, she replied, "But I do very much!" The closing hour came, and they were compelled to turn out; whereupon Arabella put her arm round his waist, and guided his unsteady footsteps.
When they were in the streets she said: "I don't know what our landlord will say to my bringing you home in this state. I expect we are fastened out, so that he'll have to come down and let us in."
"I don't know—I don't know."
"That's the worst of not having a home of your own. I tell you, Jude, what we had best do. Come round to my father's—I made it up with him a bit to-day. I can let you in, and nobody will see you at all; and by to-morrow morning you'll be all right."
"Anything—anywhere," replied Jude. "What the devil does it matter to me?"
They went along together, like any other fuddling couple, her arm still round his waist, and his, at last, round hers; though with no amatory intent; but merely because he was weary, unstable, and in need of support.
"This—is th' Martyrs'—burning-place," he stammered as they dragged across a broad street. "I remember—in old Fuller's Holy State —and I am reminded of it—by our passing by here—old Fuller in his Holy State says, that at the burning of Ridley, Doctor Smith—preached sermon, and took as his text 'Though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' —Often think of it as I pass here. Ridley was a—"
"Yes. Exactly. Very thoughtful of you, deary, even though it hasn't much to do with our present business."