Wise speech and good intentions--they were invariably maggoty with
these secret inclinations to destroy the man in the man. Whenever he
heard anyone holding forth: the landlady, this doctor, the spokesman
on the pit bank: or when he read the all-righteous newspaper; his soul
curdled with revulsion as from something foul. Even the infernal
love and good-will of his wife. To hell with good-will! It was more
hateful than ill-will. Self-righteous bullying, like poison gas!

The landlady looked at the clock.

"Ten minutes to, gentlemen," she said coldly. For she too knew that
Aaron was spoiled for her for that night.

The men began to take their leave, shakily. The little doctor seemed
to evaporate. The landlady helped Aaron on with his coat. She saw the
curious whiteness round his nostrils and his eyes, the fixed hellish
look on his face.

"You'll eat a mince-pie in the kitchen with us, for luck?" she said to
him, detaining him till last.

But he turned laughing to her.

"Nay," he said, "I must be getting home."

He turned and went straight out of the house. Watching him, the
landlady's face became yellow with passion and rage.

"That little poisonous Indian viper," she said aloud, attributing
Aaron's mood to the doctor. Her husband was noisily bolting the door.