As they went along the dark and lonely thoroughfare that led over the hill to Windley, they heard from time to time the weird roaring of the wild animals in the menagerie that was encamped in the adjacent field.
Just as they reached a very gloomy and deserted part, they suddenly observed a dark object in the middle of the road some distance in front of them.It seemed to be a large animal of some kind and was coming slowly and stealthily towards them.
They stopped, peering in a half-frightened way through the darkness.
The animal continued to approach.Bundy stooped down to the ground, groping about in search of a stone, and - with the exception of Crass, who was too frightened to move - the others followed his example.
They found several large stones and stood waiting for the creature -whatever it was - to come a little nearer so as to get a fair shot at it.They were about to let fly when the creature fell over on its side and moaned as if in pain.Observing this, the four men advanced cautiously towards it.Bundy struck a match and held it over the prostrate figure.It was the Semi-drunk.
After parting from Philpot, the poor wretch had managed to walk all right for some distance.As Philpot had remarked, the fall had to some extent sobered him; but he had not gone very far before the drink he had taken began to affect him again and he had fallen down.
Finding it impossible to get up, he began crawling along on his hands and knees, unconscious of the fact that he was travelling in the wrong direction.Even this mode of progression failed him at last, and he would probably have been run over if they had not found him.They raised him up, and Philpot, exhorting him to `pull himself together'
inquired where he lived.The man had sense enough left to be able to tell them his address, which was fortunately at Windley, where they all resided.
Bundy and Philpot took him home, separating from Crass and Easton at the corner of the street where both the latter lived.
Crass felt very full and satisfied with himself.He had had six and a half pints of beer, and had listened to two selections on the polyphone at a total cost of one penny.
Easton had but a few yards to go before reaching his own house after parting from Crass, but he paused directly he heard the latter's door close, and leaning against a street lamp yielded to the feeling of giddiness and nausea that he had been fighting against all the way home.All the inanimate objects around him seemed to be in motion.
The lights of the distant street lamps appeared to be floating about the pavement and the roadway rose and fell like the surface of a troubled sea.He searched his pockets for his handkerchief and having found it wiped his mouth, inwardly congratulating himself that Crass was not there to see him.Resuming his walk, after a few minutes he reached his own home.As he passed through, the gate closed of itself after him, clanging loudly.He went rather unsteadily up the narrow path that led to his front door and entered.
The baby was asleep in the cradle.Slyme had gone up to his own room, and Ruth was sitting sewing by the fireside.The table was still set for two persons, for she had not yet taken her tea.
Easton lurched in noisily.`'Ello, old girl!' he cried, throwing his dinner basket carelessly on the floor with an affectation of joviality and resting his hands on the table to support himself.`I've come at last, you see.'
Ruth left off sewing, and, letting her hands fall into her lap, sat looking at him.She had never seen him like this before.His face was ghastly pale, the eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, the lips tremulous and moist, and the ends of the hair of his fair moustache, stuck together with saliva and stained with beer, hung untidily round his mouth in damp clusters.
Perceiving that she did not speak or smile, Easton concluded that she was angry and became grave himself.
`I've come at last, you see, my dear; better late than never.'
He found it very difficult to speak plainly, for his lips trembled and refused to form the words.
`I don't know so much about that,' said Ruth, inclined to cry and trying not to let him see the pity she could not help feeling for him.
`A nice state you're in.You ought to be ashamed of yourself.'
Easton shook his head and laughed foolishly.`Don't be angry, Ruth.
It's no good, you know.'
He walked clumsily towards her, still leaning on the table to steady himself.
`Don't be angry,' he mumbled as he stooped over her, putting his arm round her neck and his face close to hers.`It's no good being angry, you know, dear.'
She shrank away, shuddering with involuntary disgust as he pressed his wet lips and filthy moustache upon her mouth.His fetid breath, foul with the smell of tobacco and beer, and the odour of the stale tobacco smoke that exuded from his clothes filled her with loathing.He kissed her repeatedly and when at last he released her she hastily wiped her face with her handkerchief and shivered.
Easton said he did not want any tea, and went upstairs to bed almost immediately.Ruth did not want any tea either now, although she had been very hungry before he came home.She sat up very late, sewing, and when at length she did go upstairs she found him lying on his back, partly undressed on the outside of the bedclothes, with his mouth wide open, breathing stertorously.