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«If it could … Oh, but I'm so worthless! I let you down. Now I've let him down.»
«The first was a mistake. It can be put right.»
«But not the second. That we can't live with.»
«Yes, I think so. You say the stuff tasted bitter? There's no mistake about that, I suppose?»
«No, oh, no, it was very bitter.»
«You see, that has far-reaching implications. I used nothing but ordinary salt in the water.»
POSSESSION OF ANGELA BRADSHAW
There was a young woman, the daughter of a retired colonel, resident in one of London's most select suburbs, and engaged to be married to Mr. Angus Fairfax, a solicitor who made more money every year. The name of this young woman was Angela Bradshaw; she wore a green sweater and had an Aberdeen terrier, and when open-toed shoes were in fashion, she wore open-toed shoes. Angus Fairfax was as ordinary as herself, and pleasant and ordinary were all the circumstances of their days.
Nevertheless, one day in September this young woman developed symptoms of a most distressing malady. She put a match to the curtains of the drawing-room, and kicked, bit, and swore like a trooper when restrained.
Everyone thought she had lost her reason, and no one was more distressed than her fiancé. A celebrated alienist was called in; he found her in a collected frame of mind. He made a number of little tests, such as are usual in these examinations, and could find none of the usual symptoms of dementia.
When he had done, however, she burst into a peal of coarse laughter, and, calling him a damned old fool, she reminded him of one or two points he had overlooked. Now these points were extremely abstruse ones, and most unlikely to be known to a young girl who had never studied psychoanalysis, or life, or anything of that sort.
The alienist was greatly shocked and surprised, but he was forced to admit that while such knowledge was most abnormal, and while the term she had applied to him was indicative of ignorance and bad taste, he did not feel that she could be certified on these grounds alone.
«But ca
«Not unless I find symptoms of insanity,» said the specialist. «You can, of course, charge her with arson.»
«What? And have her go to prison?» cried her mother. «Think of the disgrace!»
«I could undertake her defence, free of charge, and doubtless get her off with a caution,» said Mr. Fairfax.
«There would still be the newspapers,» said the Colonel, shaking his head. «At the same time, it seems extraordinary that nothing can be done about it.» Saying this, he gave the eminent alienist his cheque and a look. The alienist shrugged his shoulders and departed.
Angela immediately put her feet on the table (her legs were extremely well turned) and recited a string of doggerel verses, celebrating the occasion in great detail, and casting scorn on her parents and her fiancé. These verses were very scurrilous, or I would reproduce them here.
During the next few days, she played some other tricks, all of them troublesome and undignified; above all, she rhymed away like the principal boy in a pantomime. A whole string of doctors was called in. They all said her misbehaviour was not due to insanity.
Her parents then tried a few quacks, who, powerless to certify, were also impotent to cure. In the end they went to a seedy Madame who claimed to see into the soul. «The whole thing is perfectly clear,» said this unprepossessing old woman. «Your daughter is possessed of a devil. Two guineas.»
They asked her to exorcise the intrusive fiend, but that was ten, so they said they would think the matter over, and took Angela home in a taxi.
On the way, she said to them with a smile, «If you had had the decency to ask me, I could have told you that was the trouble, all along.»
When they had finished rating her for allowing them to go to so much expense u
«In the simplest way,» she said. «I see him very frequently.»
«When?» cried the Colonel.
«Where?» cried her mother.
«What is he like?» cried her fiancé.
«He is young and not at all bad-looking,» replied Angela, «and he talks most amusingly. He generally appears to me when I am alone. I am seldom alone but in my bedroom, and it is there that I see him, between eleven at night and seven in the morning.»
«What does he say?» cried her father, grasping his malacca.
«Is he black?» cried her mother.
«What does he—? How do you know it is not a she-devil?» cried her fiancé.
«But how does he appear?» asked her mother.
«Frequently I find him beside me, when I have got into bed,» said Angela, with the greatest composure in the world.
«I have always asked you to let me order a wider bed for that loom,» observed her mother to the Colonel.
«This fiend must be exorcised at once,» said Angus Fairfax, «for there is no bed wide enough to sleep three, once we are married.»
«I'm not sure that he wants to be exorcised,» said Angela. «In any case, I must ask him first.»
«Colonel Bradshaw,» said Angus Fairfax, «I hope you realize my position. In face of these revelations, and of all that lies behind them, I ca
«A good riddance, I say,» observed the fiend, now speaking for the first time.
«Be quiet, dear,» said Angela.
Mr. Fairfax rapped on the glass, stopped the taxi, and got out
«In face of what we have just heard,» said he, «no action for breach of promise can possibly lie.»
«It is not the custom of the Bradshaws to bring actions for breach of promise,» said the Colonel. «No more shall we sue you for your share of the taxi-fare.»
The fiend, while Mr. Fairfax hastily fumbled for his money, recited a valedictory quatrain, rhyming most obscenely upon his name.
To resume our tale: they got home. The Colonel immediately telephoned for the old Madame to come, regardless of cost
«I'll have this fiend out before eleven tonight, anyway, Miss,» said he to his daughter, who laughed.
The old Madame turned up, bearing a great box of powders, herbs, bones, symbols, and heaven knows what else. She had the drawing-room darkened, and the wireless disco
Then, Angela being seated in the middle of the room, and the ornamental paper being taken out of the fireplace, because fiends very frequently like to make an exit by way of the chimney, the old woman lit a joss-stick or two, and began to mumble away for dear life.
When she had said all that was required, she set fire to a saucerful of Bengal Light. «Come forth, Asmodeus!» she cried.
«Wrong,» said the fiend, with a chuckle.
«Bother!» cried the old woman in dismay, for the flare had shown the cat eating one of the bones she had brought «That was a bone of St. Eulalia, which was worse than Keating's Powder to devils, and cost me twenty guineas,» she said. «No devil win go into that cat now, and the bone must go into the bill, and the Colonel must go into the street to fetch a fresh cat»
When everything was resettled, she began again, and, lighting a new saucerful, «Come forth, Beelzebub!» she demanded.
«Wrong again,» said the fiend, with a louder chuckle than before.
«They'll never guess, darling,» said Angela.
The old bedlam went on, at a prodigious expense of the Bengal Light, which was of a special kind. She called on Belial, Belphegor, Mahound, Radamanth, Minos, all the fiends ever heard of, and all she brought forth was taunts and laughter.