In Pursuit of the Green Lion Read Online Free PDF Page B

you? Do you want to break my heart, looking as if you fear me so?” Biting his lip, he raised the whip again. “Scream again, you ninny.” Then he brought the whip down savagely on the pillow. “It’s them I hate, I hate them!” and he gave the pillow cut after cut.
    “Oh, God, don’t break my bones!” I screeched, getting into the spirit of the thing.
    “I’ll break every bone in your body, wife; it’s my right!” he thundered. “Never disobey me again!” We could hear them cheering downstairs. I howled horribly. Somehow it felt good—I don’t know why. Then he howled too. Another few cracks, and the bolster split. A cloud of feathers flew into the air, and I began to cough. It sounded just like sobbing. More cheers from below, and a rising wail from the children’s bed.
    “Wait a moment,” I said, and slipped out from the curtains to shush the children. “Mama’s fine,” I told them. “You’re just having a dream.”
    “Pretty loud dream,” said Cecily, sitting up.
    “I don’t like dreams. Can we get into bed with you, Mama?” queried Alison, half asleep still.
    “No, you can’t. We’re playing a game. We make the noise, and you be still as mice and go back to sleep, and—and I’ll let you ride the donkey tomorrow.” I tucked them in again.
    “All day?” whispered Cecily.
    “All day, but only if you go to sleep right away, and no cheating.” They made an elaborate pretense of sleeping, but as it is with children, pretense soon became reality. Before long I could hear them breathing softly, sound asleep in each other’s arms. I turned back to see Gregory sitting glumly on the bed, the dog-whip drooping from his hand. A beam from the full moon shone in the window, laying a streak of light across the place where he sat. He had feathers stuck in his hair and beard. I went to sit beside him.
    “You’ve got feathers all over,” I whispered.
    “So do you,” he whispered back. Downstairs, they were singing again. Something about an old man who beat his scolding wife all around the town-o.
    “Do I look as silly as you do?” I asked.
    “Sillier,”he said, blowing away a feather about to land on my nose. I tucked my feet up onto the bed, and he pulled the curtain.
    “It’s been horrible,” he said. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore—you’ve been so sharp.”
    “I thought it was you who didn’t like me,” I said. “You never said a kind word—never even looked at me. You didn’t even lecture me about Aristotle, like in the old days.”
    “It’s Father,” sighed Gregory. “He drives me crazy. And now he’s tangled me up with lawyers and land claims—your estates are a hopeless tangle, you know, and there are at least a half-dozen spurious claimants—so I haven’t got a moment to call my own.”
    “I never understood about your father, before, when you told me,” I whispered into the dark. “But now I know that’s because words are inadequate to describe him.”
    “Too true.” He sighed again. “It’s because he’s always wanted me to be just like Hugo. You don’t admire Hugo, by any chance, do you? Most women do.”
    “No, I think he’s awful. His head looks just like a plucked chicken to me, and he’s not very smart.”
    “A plucked chicken, eh? You know, you’re right. I never thought of that.” I took his hand, and for once he did not pull it away.
    “Oh, Gregory, Gregory, I’m so sorry I embarrassed you in front of them. Just be my friend, and I won’t ask for anything more.”
    “You ought to be sorry,” he said ruefully. “We must have made a sight.” I couldn’t see him, there in the dark behind the curtains, but I could feel his warm breath. Something about it made me feel strange all over. “It’s my fault. It made me angry to see you hurt.”
    “It did? Was that really it?” I could feel his body tremble slightly.
    “Gregory, have you ever done it before?” I asked into the dark.
    “You know I’ve been saving myself for