the line on exhibition for all hed ever care with
the ironmould mark the stupid old bundle burned on
them he might think was something else and she never
even rendered down the fat I told her and now shes
going such as she was on account of her paralysed
husband getting worse theres always something wrong
with them disease or they have to go under an operation
or if its not that its drink and he beats her Ill
have to hunt around again for someone every day I
get up theres some new thing on sweet God sweet God
well when Im stretched out dead in my grave I suppose
Ill have some peace I want to get up a minute if Im
let wait O Jesus wait yes that thing has come on me
yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course all the
poking and rooting and ploughing he had up in me now
what am I to do Friday Saturday Sunday wouldnt that
pester the soul out of a body unless he likes it some
men do God knows theres always something wrong with
us 5 days every 3 or 4 weeks usual monthly auction
isnt it simply sickening that night it came on me
like that the one and only time we were in a box that
Michael Gunn gave him to see Mrs Kendal and her husband
at the Gaiety something he did about insurance for
him in Drimmies I was fit to be tied though I wouldnt
give in with that gentleman of fashion staring down
at me with his glasses and him the other side of me
talking about Spinoza and his soul thats dead I suppose
millions of years ago I smiled the best I could all
in a swamp leaning forward as if I was interested having
to sit it out then to the last tag I wont forget that
wife of Scarli in a hurry supposed to be a fast play
about adultery that idiot in the gallery hissing the
woman adulteress he shouted I suppose he went and had
a woman in the next lane running round all the back
ways after to make up for it I wish he had what I
had then hed boo I bet the cat itself is better off
than us have we too much blood up in us or what O patience
above its pouring out of me like the sea anyhow he
didnt make me pregnant as big as he is I dont want
to ruin the clean sheets I just put on I suppose the
clean linen I wore brought it on too damn it damn it
and they always want to see a stain on the bed to
know youre a virgin for them all thats troubling them
theyre such fools too you could be a widow or divorced
40 times over a daub of red ink would do or blackberry
juice no thats too purply O Jamesy let me up out of
this pooh sweets of sin whoever suggested that business
for women what between clothes and cooking and children
this damned old bed too jingling like the dickens I
suppose they could hear us away over the other side
of the park till I suggested to put the quilt on the
floor with the pillow under my bottom I wonder is it
nicer in the day I think it is easy I think Ill cut
all this hair off me there scalding me I might look
like a young girl wouldnt he get the great suckin
the next time he turned up my clothes on me Id give
anything to see his face wheres the chamber gone easy