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the car to come up she stood on the step； just as before； twiddling her foot；
looking down。
Hennie bounded forward to open the door and she got in and sank
back with ohsuch a sigh！
〃Tell him；〃 she gasped； 〃to drive as fast as he can。〃
Hennie grinned at his friend the chauffeur。 〃Allie veet！〃 said he。
Then he composed himself and sat on the small seat facing us。
The gold powder…box came out again。 Again the poor little puff was
shaken； again there was that swift； deadly…secret glance between her and
the mirror。
We tore through the black…and…gold town like a pair of scissors tearing
through brocade。 Hennie had great difficulty not to look as though he
were hanging on to something。
And when we reached the Casino； of course Mrs。 Raddick wasn't there。
There wasn't a sign of her on the stepsnot a sign。
〃Will you stay in the car while I go and look？〃
But noshe wouldn't do that。 Good heavens； no！ Hennie could stay。
She couldn't bear sitting in a car。 She'd wait on the steps。
〃But I scarcely like to leave you；〃 I murmured。 〃I'd very much rather
not leave you here。〃
At that she threw back her coat； she turned and faced me； her lips
parted。 〃Good heavenswhy！ II don't mind it a bit。 II like
waiting。〃 And suddenly her cheeks crimsoned； her eyes grew darkfor a
moment I thought she was going to cry。 〃Llet me； please；〃 she
stammered； in a warm； eager voice。 〃I like it。 I love waiting！ Really
really I do！ I'm always waitingin all kinds of places。。。〃
Her dark coat fell open； and her white throatall her soft young body
in the blue dresswas like a flower that is just emerging from its dark bud。
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The Garden Party
6。 LIFE OF MA PARKER。
When the literary gentleman； whose flat old Ma Parker cleaned every
Tuesday； opened the door to her that morning； he asked after her grandson。
Ma Parker stood on the doormat inside the dark little hall； and she
stretched out her hand to help her gentleman shut the door before she
replied。 〃We buried 'im yesterday； sir；〃 she said quietly。
〃Oh； dear me！ I'm sorry to hear that；〃 said the literary gentleman in a
shocked tone。 He was in the middle of his breakfast。 He wore a very
shabby dressing…gown and carried a crumpled newspaper in one hand。
But he felt awkward。 He could hardly go back to the warm sitting…room
without saying somethingsomething more。 Then because these people
set such store by funerals he said kindly； 〃I hope the funeral went off all
right。〃
〃Beg parding； sir？〃 said old Ma Parker huskily。
Poor old bird！ She did look dashed。 〃I hope the funeral was aa
success；〃 said he。 Ma Parker gave no answer。 She bent her head and
hobbled off to the kitchen； clasping the old fish bag that held her cleaning
things and an apron and a pair of felt shoes。 The literary gentleman
raised his eyebrows and went back to his breakfast。
〃Overcome； I suppose；〃 he said aloud； helping himself to the
marmalade。
Ma Parker drew the two jetty spears out of her toque and hung it
behind the door。 She unhooked her worn jacket and hung that up too。
Then she tied her apron and sat down to take off her boots。 To take off
her boots or to put them on was an agony to her； but it had been an agony
for years。 In fact； she was so accustomed to the pain that her face was
drawn and screwed up ready for the twinge before she'd so much as untied
the laces。 That over； she sat back with a sigh and softly rubbed her
knees。。。
〃Gran！ Gran！〃 Her little grandson stood on her lap in his button
boots。 He'd just come in from playing in the street。
〃Look what a state you've made your gran's skirt intoyou wicked
boy！〃
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The Garden Party
But he put his arms round her neck and rubbed his cheek against hers。
〃Gran； gi' us a penny！〃 he coaxed。
〃Be off with you； Gran ain't got no pennies。〃
〃Yes； you 'ave。〃
〃No； I ain't。〃
〃Yes； you 'ave。 Gi' us one！〃
Already she was feeling for the old； squashed； black leather purse。
〃Well； what'll you give your gran？〃
He gave a shy little laugh and pressed closer。 She felt his eyelid
quivering against her cheek。 〃I ain't got nothing；〃 he murmured。。。
The old woman sprang up； seized the iron kettle off the gas stove and
took it over to the sink。 The noise of the water drumming in the kettle
deadened her pain； it seemed。 She filled the pail； too； and the washing…
up bowl。
It would take a whole book to describe the state of that kitchen。
During the week the literary gentleman 〃did〃 for himself。 That is to say；
he emptied the tea leaves now and again into a jam jar set aside for that
purpose； and if he ran out of clean forks he wiped over one or two on the
roller towel。 Otherwise； as he explained to his friends； his 〃system〃 was
quite simple； and he couldn't understand why people made all this fuss
about housekeeping。
〃You simply dirty everything you've got； get a hag in once a week to
clean up； and the thing's done。〃
The result looked like a gigantic dustbin。 Even the floor was littered
with toast crusts； envelopes； cigarette ends。 But Ma Parker bore him no
grudge。 She pitied the poor young gentleman for having no one to look
after him。 Out of the smudgy little window you could see an immense
expanse of sad…looking sky； and whenever there were clouds they looked
very worn； old clouds； frayed at the edges； with holes in them； or dark
stains like tea。
While the water was heating； Ma Parker began sweeping the floor。
〃Yes；〃 she thought； as the broom knocked； 〃what with one thing and
another I've had my share。 I've had a hard life。〃
Even the neighbours said that of her。 Many a time； hobbling home
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The