“Yes, Nat; you—you frighten me, Nat.”
“Wot’s a little fright to you? I’m nigh to hell with torture. Jill’s broke with me. We’ll never be wed, never. But that ain’t the worst. The worst is there never wor a Jill, ’twas but a dream I ’ad. I dreamt it all the time I were a-growing up, and all the years sence I come to manhood. And to-day I woke. There’s no Jill. Do you hear me, Susy? Do you understand?”
“Yes, Nat, I try to. And there’ll be no wedding, and no nice little flat, and no room for me at ’arf a crown a week, and the run of the kitchen thrown in? My word, the ways of some gels is past bearing.”
“Not another word, Susy. You know our bargain. Ef you breathe Jill’s name even once again, we part, and you may take care on yourself for all I care.”
“No, I’ll not speak on her no more,” said Susy. “You needn’t pinch me so ’ard, Nat, and you needn’t glare at me. I can’t help it ef I don’t go into big passions like other folk. I’m made quiet, and with control of my feelin’s, and I don’t see as I’m to be spurned for it. I’m quite willin’ to drop that gel; she worn’t never a mate for you, ’cordin’ to my way of thinkin’. Oh, for mercy’s sake don’t shake me agen, I expect my shoulders are black and blue as it is, from your pinches. Wot I want to know now is this. Are we to stay on in these loathsome rooms, or are we to move somewhere else? You and me could take that flat in Howard’s Buildings, and live there by ourselves—why not? Oh, good gracious, wot is the matter now, Nat?”
“I’m goin’ out,” said Nat. “You may expect me back when you see me, not afore.”
“Ain’t you coming back to-night?”
“No!”
The door of the room was banged to with a loud report. Susy waited until Nat’s footsteps ceased to sound. Then she threw herself into the nearest chair, and gave vent to a gentle sigh.
“Talk of tigresses! Why, Nat’s turned into a tiger,” she moaned. “Oh, my poor shoulders, how they does ache!”