THE BLEEDING HEART
flushed. Obviously this could signify anything; "I hate her," "I
want her to go," or "I have never seen her before." It was a cul-de–
sac that could not very well be ignored because she said it over and
over and presently Waldo joined with
his
one sentence and they
chanted antiphonally, "I her," "Just a minute," "I her," "Just a
minute." While these two obscene creatures on the bed were making
a spectacle of themselves, the man was clumsily trying to get the
string off the flower-pot and nudging Rose every now and again
although he did not need to. There was an awful odor in the room,
both
medicinal and decayed, and everything looked soiled and moist.
The shape of the room and the situation of the furniture were the
same as hers as
if
in a planned parody.
The man got the knot untied and slipped the paper off and his
mother said to the parrot, "Silence," and to her son, "I her bell."
"Of course!" cried the man with relief. "I heard her ring the
bell?"
And the woman nodded her head up and down with a de–
lighted smile on the thin crescent of her mouth.
He put the bleeding-heart on the low white table beside the bed
where a Bible lay, conventional and new, and some sticky bottles of
medicine and some revolting gobbets of cotton. The other old hand
with veins as thick as pencils came staggering out of the bed to pluck
a blossom from the plant which it held out for the parrot. The finger–
nails were the same color as the little flower which disappeared in
Waldo's greedy bill.
"Roses. Waldo."
"Yes, Mother," said the man soothingly, "Roses for Waldo."
On the wall over the bed hung a sampler which said,
"LooK
UPWARD
NOT DOWN."
Rose finally found her voice and she said urgently, "I must go."
But the man detained her with a soft pat on her arm. "But you
haven't had your tea. You must have tea with Mother." Mother
was plucking the flowers and feeding them to Waldo very rapidly
for one of her years and debility. Mter each gobble, Waldo ducked
his
head
in
a sort of villainous coquetry.
"I'm sorry," said Rose, "but I really must go."
He was looking with some consternation at
his
mother. "I say,
you don't think a bleeding-heart is toxic, do you? I wouldn't like
anything to happen to Waldo."
989
