“No, Iolanthe, you can’t paint me with the same wicked brush that colors you all the color of bruises. No. I’d never threaten no livin’ soul, nor anything else, but ‘specially a child. When my girl was alive, she was my one and only thought. Now, I got my granddaughter and not a minute ticks by that I don’t have her behind my eyes, wonderin’ how she is and what she needs.” Marjani replied. “Ya see, when you’re a mama, it’s the only thing ya got what means anything. Yet, here you are, worried ‘bout revenge and who done what to who ‘stead of thinkin’ ‘bout what your poor boy might need.”
“You have no right to judge me!” Iolanthe said fiercely.
“I ain’t judgin’ no one. Ain’t my place.” Marjani shook her head. “I’m just makin’ an observation.”
“Stop listening to her chatter,” Ulrika moaned. “And, let’s return to the matter at hand.”
“What is the matter at hand, Miss Rittenhouse?” Robert interjected. “What business have we together?”
“You had this woman put in prison for murder!” Ulrika coughed. “A murder she didn’t commit!”
“Consider it a brief punishment for the many that she did.” Robert smiled. “Far too brief, indeed.”
“That’s the way to do it,” Mr. Punch responded. “Now listen, Iolanthe, maybe you ain’t got love in your heart for folk and maybe you got nothin’ what worries you, but we do. So, you’ll pardon us if we just go on ‘bout what we intend.”
“No.” Iolanthe spat.
“Coo!” Mr. Punch howled. “You are a corker!” He turned to Robert. “Come on, Chum.”
“Go to your boy, Iolanthe Evangeline, and let us attend to what we need to do.” Robert commanded.
“You can’t cast me ‘way so easily.” Iolanthe growled. “You done me wrong!”
“You reap what you sew,” Mr. Punch smiled.
“Julian!” A woman’s voice interrupted, piercing through the fog. “Julian!”
“Here, that’s Barbara.” Punch whispered.
“Ah, the errant Miss Allen,” Iolanthe grinned. “She sounds as if she’s in distress.”
“Julian! Dr. Halifax!” Barbara screamed.
Mr. Punch ran out into the fog in the direction of the voice.
“Punch!” Robert shouted.
“Let him go, Sir.” Marjani whispered.
“Yes, let him go.” Iolanthe smiled. “And, we’ll continue our discussion.”
At that very moment, Charles returned to the long, narrow flat above the dress shop. As he came up the stairs, he said. “I had a bit of a time at this hour, but I did manage to get some milk. For a moment, Madame, I thought I saw my brother in the mist. But, I couldn’t have. You’ll pardon me for being…”
Charles’ voice trailed off as he surveyed the apartment. Mama Routhe sat crying over Adrienne’s limp body.
“What’s happened?” Charles gasped.
“They done hurt the missus.” Mama Routhe wailed. “And they took the baby!”
Did you miss Chapters 1-272? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 274 of Punch's Cousin.
2 comments:
Just too much happening to leave off for Sunday. Really absorbing and how natural for a foggy night.
Thank you, Dashwood!
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