Of Human Bondage - W. Somerset Maugham [256]
“I think you’ll do well to turn in early yourself,” said Philip. “You look absolutely done up.”
“I think I will after I’ve washed up.”
Philip lit his pipe and began to read. It was pleasant to hear somebody moving about in the next room. Sometimes his loneliness had oppressed him. Mildred came in to clear the table, and he heard the clatter of plates as she washed up. Philip smiled as he thought how characteristic it was of her that she should do all that in a black silk dress. But he had work to do, and he brought his book up to the table. He was reading Osler’s Medicine, which had recently taken the place in the students’ favor of Taylor’s work, for many years the textbook most in use. Presently Mildred came in, rolling down her sleeves. Philip gave her a casual glance, but did not move; the occasion was curious, and he felt a little nervous. He feared that Mildred might imagine he was going to make a nuisance of himself, and he did not know how without brutality to reassure her.
“By the way, I’ve got a lecture at nine, so I should want breakfast at a quarter past eight. Can you manage that?”
“Oh, yes. Why, when I was in Parliament Street I used to catch the eight-twelve from Heme Hill every morning.”
“I hope you’ll find your room comfortable. You’ll be different woman tomorrow after a long night in bed.”
“I suppose you work till late?”
“I generally work till about eleven or half past.”
“I’ll say good night then.”
“Good night.”
The table was between them. He did not offer to shake hands with her. She shut the door quietly. He heard her moving about in the bedroom, and in a little while he heard the creaking of the bed as she got in.
XCII
The following day was Tuesday. Philip as usual hurried through his breakfast and dashed off to get to his lecture at nine. He had only time to exchange a few words with Mildred. When he came back in the evening he found her seated at the window, darning his socks.
“I say, you are industrious,” he smiled. “What have you been doing with yourself all day?”
“Oh, I gave the place a good cleaning and then I took baby out for a little.”
She was wearing an old black dress, the same as she had worn as uniform when she served in the tea-shop; it was shabby, but she looked better in it than in the silk of the day before. The baby was sitting on the floor. She looked up at Philip with large, mysterious eyes and broke into a laugh when he sat down beside her and began playing with her bare toes. The afternoon sun came into the room and shed a mellow light.
“It’s rather jolly to come back and find someone about the place. A woman and a baby make very good decoration in a room.”
He had gone to the hospital dispensary and got a bottle of Blaud’s Pills. He gave them to Mildred and told her she must take them after each meal. It was a remedy she was used to, for she had taken it off and on ever since she was sixteen.
“I’m sure Lawson would love that green skin of yours,” said Philip. “He’d say it was so paintable, but I’m terribly matter-of-fact nowadays, and I shan’t be happy till you’re as pink and white as a milkmaid.”
“I feel better already.”
After a frugal supper Philip filled his pouch with tobacco and put on his hat. It was on Tuesdays that he generally went to the tavern in Beak Street, and he was glad that this day came so