“Looked like an undertaker,” said the soprano.
“Or the ‘salary-doubled-in-a-fortnight’ man in the efficiency advertisements,” put in the monologuist.
Catherine started to arrange her hair.
“I’m going,” she said, and walked towards the balcony (there was no exit that way). Near the French windows she staggered and fell, fortunately upon the cushions of a couch. They all crowded round her. She did not attempt to rise.
“She’s drunk,” muttered the violinist.
“Possibly ...” said George Trant, bending down to her. “Fetch some water. I think she’s fainted....”
CHAPTER VII
TRAGEDY
§ 1
ON the first of May the weather was very sultry. Downsland Road, running past the front of the Council School, was both blazingly hot and distressingly conscious that it was Friday afternoon. The road was bursting out in little gouts of soft tar: costermongers were arranging their wares for the evening’s marketing, spitting contemplatively on the apples and polishing them afterwards on their coat-sleeves. Children with clanking iron hoops converged from all directions upon the four entrance gates of the Downsland Road Council School, respectively those of the boys’, girls’, infants’ and junior mixed departments. There they either carried or dragged them surreptitiously along, for the trundling of hoops was forbidden in the schoolyard.
At five minutes to two, threading his way past the groups of boys and girls that littered the pavements and roadways, came the short, stumpy form of Mr. Weston. He was shabbily dressed as usual, yet it might have been said that he carried his umbrella somewhat more jauntily than was his wont. In fact, people had lately been saying that he was beginning to get over the loss of his wife.... At any rate he passed the costermongers and their stalls in a slouch that was not quite so much a slouch as usual, smiled pleasantly as he caught sight of the announcement of a Conservative Club soirée, and had just reached the edifice known as the Duke Street Methodist Chapel when his attention was arrested by an awful spectacle.