Part 22 (2/2)
”Have we, Ju-ju?” asked the girl, caressingly stroking Jones' head.
”Yes,” said Jones.
”I'm sure,” went on Venetia with a sigh, ”I have always done my best to keep things together. I failed. Was it my fault?”
”No,” said Teresa, aching for her to be gone. ”I am sure it was not.”
”I am glad to hear you say that. I always tried to avoid interfering in your life. I never did--or only when ordinary prudence made me speak, as for instance, in that baccarat business.”
”Don't rake up old things,” said Teresa suddenly.
”And the Williamson affair,” got in Venetia. ”Oh, I am the very last to rake up things, as you call it. I, for one, will say no more of things that have happened, but I _must_ speak of things that affect myself.”
”What is affecting you?”
”Just this. You know quite well the financial position. You know what the upkeep of this house means. You can't do it. You plainly can't do it. Your income is not sufficient.”
”But how does that affect you?”
”When tradespeople talk it affects me; it affects us all. Why not let this house and live quietly, somewhere in the country, 'til things blow over?”
”What do you mean by things blowing over?” asked Teresa. ”One would think that you were talking of some disgrace that had happened.”
Venetia pulled up her long left hand glove and moved as though about to depart. She said nothing but looked at her glove.
During the whole of this time she had neither looked at nor spoken to Jones, nor included him by word in the conversation. Her influence had been working upon him ever since she entered the room. He began now more fully to understand the part she had played in the life of Rochester. He felt that he wanted to talk to Venetia as Rochester had, probably, never talked.
”A man once said to me that the greatest mistake a fellow can make is to have a sister to live with him after his marriage,” said Jones.
Venetia pulled up her right hand glove.
”A sister that has had to face mad intoxication and _worse_, can endorse that opinion,” said she.
”What do you mean by worse?” fired Teresa.
”I mean exactly what I say,” replied Venetia.
”That is no answer. Do you mean that Arthur has been unfaithful to me?”
”I did not say that.”
”Well, what can be worse than intoxication--that is the only thing worse that I know of--unless murder. Do you mean that he has murdered someone?”
”I will not let you drag me into a quarrel,” said Venetia; ”you are putting things into my mouth. I think mad extravagance is worse than intoxication, inasmuch as it is committed by reasonable people uninfluenced by drugs or alcohol. I think insults levelled at inoffensive people are worse than the wildest deeds committed under the influence of that demon alcohol.”
”Who are the inoffensive people who have been insulted?”
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