William Faulkner, SANCTUARY – WordPress.com - literature save 2

drew up two chairs. He sat down beside the bed and, talking at the top of the unstirring
ridge, he told her what he wanted.
"I just wanted to know what really happened. You wont commit yourself. I know
that you didn't do it. I'll promise before you tell me a thing that you wont have to testify
in Court unless they are going to hang him without it. I know how you feel. I wouldn't
bother you if the man's life were not at stake."
The ridge did not move.
"They're going to hang him for something he never done," Miss Reba said.
"And she wont have nuttin, nobody. And you with diamonds, and her with that
poor little kid. You seen it, didn't you?"
The ridge did not move.
"I know how you feel," Horace said. "You can use a different name, wear clothes
nobody will recognise you in, glasses."
"They aint going to catch Popeye, honey," Miss Reba said. "Smart as he is. You
dont know his name, noway, and if you have to go and tell them in court, I'll send him
word after you leave and he'll go somewheres and send for you. You and him dont want
to stay here in Memphis. The lawyer'll take care of you and you won't have to tell nuttin
you-" The ridge moved. Temple flung the covers back and sat up. Her head was tousled,
her face puffed, two spots of rouge on her cheekbones and her mouth painted into a
savage cupid's bow. She stared for an instant at Horace with blank antagonism, then she
looked away.
"I want a drink," she said pulling up the shoulder of her gown.
"Lie down," Miss Reba said. "You'll catch cold."
"I want another drink," Temple said.
"Lie down and cover up your nekkidness, anyway," Miss Reba said, rising. "You
already had three since supper."
Temple dragged the gown up again. She looked at Horace. "You give me a drink,
then."
"Come on, honey," Miss Reba said, trying to push her down. "Lie down and get
covered up and tell him about that business. I'll get you a drink in a minute."
"Let me alone," Temple said, writhing free. Miss Reba drew the covers about her
shoulders. "Give me a cigarette, then. Have you got one?" she asked Horace.
"I'll get you one in a minute," Miss Reba said. "Will you do what he wants you
to?"
"What?" Temple said. She looked at Horace with her black, belligerent stare.
"You needn't tell me where your-he-" Horace said.
"Dont think I'm afraid to tell," Temple said. "I'll tell it anywhere. Dont think I'm
afraid. I want a drink."
"You tell him, and I'll get you one," Miss Reba said.
Sitting up in the bed, the covers about her shoulders, Temple told him of the night
she had spent in the ruined house, from the time she entered the room and tried to wedge
the door with the chair, until the woman came to the bed and led her out. That was the
only part of the whole experience which appeared to have left any impression on her at
all: the night which she had spent in comparative inviolation. Now and then Horace
would attempt to get her on ahead to the crime itself, but she would elude him and return