Liza of Lambeth. Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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СКАЧАТЬ her clenched fist at her daughter.

      'I know wot yer mean, you you!' Her language was emphatic, her epithets picturesque, but too forcible for reproduction. 'You think I'd steal it,' she went on. 'I know yer! D'yer think I'd go an' tike yer dirty money?'

      'Well, mother,' said Liza, 'when I've told yer before, the money's perspired like.'

      'Wot d'yer mean?'

      'It got less.'

      'Well, I can't 'elp thet, can I? Anyone can come in 'ere and tike the money.'

      'If it's 'idden awy, they can't, can they, mother?' said Liza.

      Mrs. Kemp shook her fist.

      'You dirty slut, you,' she said, 'yer think I tike yer money! Why, you ought ter give it me every week instead of savin' it up and spendin' it on all sorts of muck, while I 'ave ter grind my very bones down to keep yer.'

      'Yer know, mother, if I didn't 'ave a little bit saved up, we should be rather short when you're dahn in yer luck.'

      Mrs. Kemp's money always ran out on Tuesday, and Liza had to keep things going till the following Saturday.

      'Oh, don't talk ter me!' proceeded Mrs. Kemp. 'When I was a girl I give all my money ter my mother. She never 'ad ter ask me for nothin'. On Saturday when I come 'ome with my wiges, I give it 'er every farthin'. That's wot a daughter ought ter do. I can say this for myself, I be'aved by my mother like a gal should. None of your prodigal sons for me! She didn't 'ave ter ask me for three 'apence ter get a drop of beer.'

      Liza was wise in her generation; she held her tongue, and put on her hat.

      'Now, you're goin' aht, and leavin' me; I dunno wot you get up to in the street with all those men. No good, I'll be bound. An' 'ere am I left alone, an' I might die for all you care.'

      In her sorrow at herself the old lady began to cry, and Liza slipped out of the room and into the street.

      Leaning against the wall of the opposite house was Tom; he came towards her.

       Ulloa!' she said, as she saw him. 'Wot are you doin' 'ere?'

      'I was waitin' for you ter come aht, Liza,' he answered.

      She looked at him quickly.

      'I ain't comin' aht with yer ter-day, if thet's wot yer mean,' she said.

      'I never thought of arskin' yer, Liza after wot you said ter me last night.'

      His voice was a little sad, and she felt so sorry for him.

      'But yer did want ter speak ter me, didn't yer, Tom?' she said, more gently.

      'You've got a day off ter-morrow, ain't yer?'

      'Bank 'Oliday. Yus! Why?'

      'Why, 'cause they've got a drag startin' from the "Red Lion" that's goin' down ter Chingford for the day an' I'm goin'.'

      'Yus!' she said.

      He looked at her doubtfully.

      'Will yer come too, Liza? It'll be a regular beeno; there's only goin' ter be people in the street. Eh, Liza?'

      'Na, I can't.'

      'Why not?'

      'I ain't got I ain't got the ooftish.'

      'I mean, won't yer come with me?'

      'Na, Tom, thank yer; I can't do thet neither.'

      'Yer might as well, Liza; it wouldn't 'urt yer.'

      'Na, it wouldn't be right like; I can't come aht with yer, and then mean nothin'! It would be doin' yer aht of an outing.'

      'I don't see why,' he said, very crestfallen.

      'I can't go on keepin' company with you after what I said last night.'

      'I shan't enjoy it a bit without you, Liza.'

      'You git somebody else, Tom. You'll do withaht me all right.'

      She nodded to him, and walked up the street to the house of her friend Sally. Having arrived in front of it, she put her hands to her mouth in trumpet form, and shouted:

       I! 'I! 'I! Sally!'

      A couple of fellows standing by copied her.

       I! 'I! 'I! Sally!'

      'Garn!' said Liza, looking round at them.

      Sally did not appear and she repeated her call. The men imitated her, and half a dozen took it up, so that there was enough noise to wake the seven sleepers.

       I! 'I! 'I! Sally!'

      A head was put out of a top window, and Liza, taking off her hat, waved it, crying:

      'Come on dahn, Sally!'

      'Arright, old gal!' shouted the other. 'I'm comin'!'

      'So's Christmas!' was Liza's repartee.

      There was a clatter down the stairs, and Sally, rushing through the passage, threw herself on to her friend. They began fooling, in reminiscence of a melodrama they had lately seen together.

      'Oh, my darlin' duck!' said Liza, kissing her and pressing her, with affected rapture, to her bosom.

      'My sweetest sweet!' replied Sally, copying her.

      'An' 'ow does your lidyship ter-day?'

      'Oh!' with immense languor 'fust class; and is your royal 'ighness quite well?'

      'I deeply regret,' answered Liza, 'but my royal 'ighness 'as got the collywobbles.'

      Sally was a small, thin girl, with sandy hair and blue eyes, and a very freckled complexion. She had an enormous mouth, with terrible, square teeth set wide apart, which looked as if they could masticate an iron bar. She was dressed like Liza, in a shortish black skirt and an old-fashioned bodice, green and grey and yellow with age; her sleeves were tucked up to the elbow, and she wore a singularly dirty apron, that had once been white.

      'Wot 'ave you got yer 'air in them things for?' asked Liza, pointing to the curl-papers. 'Goin' aht with yer young man ter-day?'

      'No, I'm going ter stay 'ere all day.'

      'Wot for, then?'

      'Why, 'Arry's going ter tike me ter Chingford ter-morrer.'

      'Oh? In the "Red Lion" brake?'

      'Yus. Are you goin'?'

      'Na!'

      'Not! Well, why don't you get round Tom? 'E'll tike yer, and jolly glad 'e'll be, too.'

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