By Charlotte Armstrong
Publication by means of Charlotte Armstrong
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Extra info for A Dram of Poison
She looked haggard. She said, as piimly as if she'd memorized it, "I feel so much better. The medicine is doing me good, I'm sure. " She dragged her eyelids up. "Mr. Gibson, I want you to go away . . " he said wih a pang. "Because I am nobody of yours. You shouldn't worry about me. " Mr. Gibson did not misunderstand. "Surely, I am a friend now," he chided gently. "You are," she admitted with a dry gasp, "and the only one. . But you have helped me. It is enough. Congratulate yourself. " He got up and walked about.
But it's no real bargain at all, Mr. Gibson. I am no use to anybody . " "No, you are not, not at the moment," he agreed cheerfully. "I wouldn't expect you to do the wash next Monday, you know. But I am thinking, and please think seriously too. . Although there is one point I'd like to make quickly. " she said hoarsely. "You are only thirty-two. " She took her hands down. " she said with sudden, asperity. "You could say it if it is •so," he told her grinning. The air in the room lightened. Everything seemed gayer.
They went in at their own back door, skirting the shining new garbage cans, symbolic of a functioning house. They crossed the pale dim orderly kitchen and entered the living room, where a lamp had been left burning. The sense of home flowed into Mr. Gibson's heart. " said he. " Rosemary stood there, in the blue dress, slowly shrugging off the dark sweater from around her shoulders. She looked brooding and intense. "I have never known," she said vibrantly, "it was possible to have so good a time.
A Dram of Poison by Charlotte Armstrong