Everything was correct: knife and fork, spoon, cruet, all perfectly
clean, the crockery fine, the bread and butter thin--in fact, it was
just as it would have been for a perfect stranger. This scrupulous
neatness, in a household so slovenly and easy-going, where it was an
established tradition that something should be forgotten or wrong,
impressed Siegmund. Beatrice put the serving knife and fork by the
little dish of ham, saw that all was proper, then went and sat down. Her
face showed no emotion; it was calm and proud. She began to sew.
'What do you say, Mother?' said Vera, as if resuming a conversation.
'Shall it be Hampton Court or Richmond on Sunday?' 'I say, as I said before,' replied Beatrice: 'I cannot afford to go
out.' 'But you must begin, my dear, and Sunday shall see the beginning. _Dîtes
donc_!' 'There are other things to think of,' said Beatrice.
'Now, _maman, nous avons changé tout cela_! We are going out--a jolly
little razzle!' Vera, who was rather handsome, lifted up her face and
smiled at her mother gaily.
'I am afraid there will be no _razzle_'--Beatrice accented the word,
smiling slightly--'for me. You are slangy, Vera.' '_Un doux argot, ma mère_. You look tired.' Beatrice glanced at the clock.
'I will go to bed when I have cleared the table,' she said.
Siegmund winced. He was still sitting with his head bent down, looking
in the grate. Vera went on to say something more. Presently Frank looked
up at the table, and remarked in his grating voice: 'There's your supper, Father.' The women stopped and looked round at this. Siegmund bent his head
lower. Vera resumed her talk. It died out, and there was silence.
Siegmund was hungry.
'Oh, good Lord, good Lord! bread of humiliation tonight!' he said to
himself before he could muster courage to rise and go to the table. He
seemed to be shrinking inwards. The women glanced swiftly at him and
away from him as his chair creaked and he got up. Frank was watching
from under his eyebrows.
Siegmund went through the ordeal of eating and drinking in presence of
his family. If he had not been hungry, he could not have done it,
despite the fact that he was content to receive humiliation this night.
He swallowed the coffee with effort. When he had finished he sat
irresolute for some time; then he arose and went to the door.
'Good night!' he said.
Nobody made any reply. Frank merely stirred in his chair. Siegmund shut
the door and went.