人性的枷锁 Of Human Bondage(7)

‘My poor child,’ said Miss Watkin, opening her arms.
She began to cry. Philip understood now why she had not been in to luncheon and why she wore a black dress. She could not speak.
‘I’ve got to go home,’ said Philip, at last.
He disengaged himself from Miss Watkin’s arms, and she kissed him again. Then he went to her sister and bade her good-bye too. One of the strange ladies asked if she might kiss him, and he gravely gave her permission. Though crying, he keenly enjoyed the sensation he was causing; he would have been glad to stay a little longer to be made much of, but felt they expected him to go, so he said that Emma was waiting for him. He went out of the room. Emma had gone downstairs to speak with a friend in the basement, and he waited for her on the landing. He heard Henrietta Watkin’s voice.
‘His mother was my greatest friend. I can’t bear to think that she’s dead.’
‘You oughtn’t to have gone to the funeral, Henrietta,’ said her sister. ‘I knew it would upset you.’
Then one of the strangers spoke.
‘Poor little boy, it’s dreadful to think of him quite alone in the world. I see he limps.’
‘Yes, he’s got a club-foot. It was such a grief to his mother.’