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.”
“Why, yes it has! I’m giving my body to be burned! But—ah you don’t understand!—it wants Sue to understand such things! And I was her seducer—poor little girl! And she’s gone—and I don’t care about myself! Do what you like with me! … And yet she did it for conscience’ sake, poor little Sue!”
“Hang her!—I mean, I think she was right,” hiccuped Arabella. “I’ve my feelings too, like her; and I feel I belong to you in Heaven’s eye, and to nobody else, till death us do part! It is—hic—never too late—hic to mend!”
They had reached her father’s house, and she softly unfastened the door, groping about for a light within.