everything
since I came back. I believe you both hate me!"

She got up slowly from her seat, slowly put her spectacles away in
their case, rubbed her fat little hands together, then suddenly licked
inquisitively one finger as an animal might do. She spoke to him over
her shoulder as she went to the door:

"Oh no, Martin, you speak too strongly."

Left then to his own devices he, at last, wandered out into the foggy
streets. After a while he found himself outside a public-house and,
after a moment's hesitation, he went in. He asked the stout, rubicund
young woman behind the counter for a whisky. She gave him one; he drank
that, and then another.

Afterwards he had several more, leaning over the bar, speaking to no
one, seeing no one, hearing nothing, and scarcely tasting the drink.
When he came out into the street again he knew that he was half
drunk--not so drunk that he didn't know what he was doing. Oh dear, no.
HE could drink any amount without feeling it. Nevertheless he had drunk
so little during these last weeks that even a drop ... How foggy the
streets were ... made it difficult to find your way home. But he was
all right, he could walk straight, he could put his latch-key into the
door at one try, HE was all right.

He was at home again. He didn't stop to hang up his hat and coat but
went straight into the dining-room, leaving the door open behind him.
He saw that the meal was still on the table just as they'd left it. Amy
was there too.

He saw her move back when he came in as though she were afraid to touch
him.

"You're drunk!" she said.

"I'm not. You're a liar, Amy. You've always been a liar all your life."

She tried to pass him, but he stood in the middle of the door.

"No, you don't," he said. "We've got to have this out. What have you
been spreading scandal about me and Maggie Cardinal for?"

"Let me go," she said again.

"Tell me that first. You've always tried to do me harm. Why?"

"Because I hate the sight of you," she answered quickly. "As you've
asked me, you shall have a truthful answer. You've never been anything
but a disgrace to us ever since you were a little boy. You disgraced us
at home and then abroad; now you've come back to disgrace us here
again."

"That's a lie," he repeated. "I've not disgraced anybody."

"Well, it won't be very long before you finish ruining that wretched
girl. The best you can do now is to marry her."

"I can't do that," he said. "I'm married al