Into The Night Read Online Free PDF

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    Madeline had thought that her figure would be ample, plump, maternal. She was rail-thin, scrawny. That she would be slowmoving, perhaps even impeded in gait. Her step was sprightly, that could be seen at a glance; it was at the other end that the advancing years had assailed her. She was acutely, cruelly roundshouldered. So that, although she was of a fair height, she was made to seem short, even stunted.
    "Mrs. Bartlett?" Madeline whispered. She had to whisper because of the alacrity with which she had bounded back up the stairs.
    "Yes," she said, turning the black eyes on her. They had great sorrowing pleats under them, Madeline saw. "Did you want me? Were you the one who rang?"
    "Yes, I was," Madeline said.
    They came a little nearer to one another now.
    "Do I know you?" the older woman said.
    "No, you don't," Madeline replied quietly.
    She thought, it's not kind of me to prolong this. Tell her at once, don't keep her waiting.
    "I knew Starr," she said then.
    Two emotions, primary emotions, swept over the older woman's face, one right after the other. They were as obvious, as vivid, as though they were two separate, revolving gelatin slides, each one throwing its light on her face in turn. First joy. Just plain unadulterated joy. The name itself, the beloved name. Someone who knew her. Someone who was a friend of hers. Someone who could tell of her. Then grief. Just plain abysmal grief. Not she herself, only someone who had known her. Not she herself, only someone who could tell of her.
    Her mouth opened. And open like that, its edges flickered, fluttered, as if it were trying to close itself again. And her eyes hurt so. Showed such hurt within them, one should say.
    "Come in," was all she said. And rather calmly. At least it was not tremulous.
    Madeline went first, at her almost unnoticeable little gesture.
    She followed and closed the door after them both.
    It was a small elbow-shaped apartment of two rooms. That is to say, the two rooms were not in a straight line with one another; one was at right angles to the other, leading off in a different direction. The first one was the only one she could see as she entered. It was clean, but far from tidy. There was no dust or litter, but there was far too much of everything in it. It was overcrowded. Or else perhaps, because it was a small room, it gave that impression.
    "Sit down," Mrs. Bartlett said. "No, not in that one. This one's better. The spring's broken in that."
    Madeline changed accordingly.
    She kept thinking, She used to live here. This is where she lived. Here, where I am now. And because of me, she doesn't live here anymore. She doesn't live anywhere anymore. I did that. I. How can I face those black eyes looking at me right now? How can I look into them?
    "You haven't given me your name," Mrs. Bartlett said, smiling at her. She rested her hand endearingly on Madeline's shoulder for a minute.
    "Madeline Chalmers," Madeline said. "Murderess. Your daughter's murderess." But only the first part passed her lips.
    "Did you know her long?" Mrs. Bartlett said. A jet cross at the base of her neck blinked in the reflected sunlight, as though it had just shed a tear.
    "It seems longer--than it was. Much longer. A lifetime."
    The answer, carefully chosen as it was, made no impression. Mrs. Bartlett had averted her head, suddenly, sharply. "Excuse me a minute," she said in a racked voice. "I'll be right back." She went through the doorway--it was an opening really, it had no door-- turned right, and went into the next room, the bedroom apparently. She'd gone in there to cry, Madeline knew.
    She heard no sound, and tried not to, in case there had been any. But there wasn't any.
    It didn't make it easier for her, this temporary digression. She tried to take her mind up, looking at little things. Little things that really didn't interest her.
    One of the lamps, because there was an insufficiency of outlets no doubt, had its cord hoisted and plugged into a socket in