The Sound and the Fury
Manuscript, page 70. Transcription follows image.
Page 70, The Sound and the Fury Ms
William Faulkner Foundation Collection, 1918-1959, Accession #6074 to 6074-d, Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections,
University of Virginia Library, Charlottesville, Va.   [Item Metadata: THE SOUND AND THE FURY, Autograph manuscript. 140 p. (146 R, 2 V) on 146 l. Slipcase.]


<June 2, 1910>

One minute she was standing there. <in the door, looking at us.> The next minute Benjy was <making that>
yelling and pulling at her dress. They went into the hall and up the stairs, Benjy yelling and pushing at
her. They went down the hall to the bathroom door and <Caddy <<leaned against>> backed up against> stopped
there. Caddy backed up against the door and Benjy yelling and trying to push her into the bathroom.

When she came in to supper T.P. was feeding him. He began again, just whimpering until she touched him. Then
he yelled. Caddy stood there, her eyes like cornered rats, then I was running. I was running through gray
darkness. It smelled like rain, and all the flower scents that the damp, warm air released, and crickets
were sawing in the grass. <I passed the lot> Fancy was standing at the lot fence, blotched like a quilt hung on
a line, and I thought T.P. forgot to feed him tonight. Then I ran through grass again, down the hill, in a
sort of vacuum of cricket raspings like a breath travelling across a mirror.

She was lying in the branch, her head on the sand spit and the water flowing across her hips and legs. There was
a little more light in the water, and her <cloth> skirt flopped <slowly> along her body in slow ripples that
went nowhere. I stood on the bank. I could smell the honeysuckle on the water gap fence. The gray
air seemed to drizzle with <honey> the smell of honeysuckle and with the <[illegible]> of crickets.

"Is Benjy still crying?" she said without moving.

"I dont know," I said. "He's gone to bed, I guess."

"Poor Benjy," she said.

I sat down on the bank. The grass was a little damp. Then I could feel that my shoes were damp.

"Get out of that water," I said. "Are you crazy?"

"All right," she said. But she didn't move. Her face was a white blur, <a little darker than the> <Her hair> Her hair
framed it out of the sand.

"Get out, now," I said.

She got up. <The water> Her skirt flopped against her. Water drained out of it. She climbed up the bank
and sat down by me.

"Why dont you wring it out?" I said. "Do you want to catch cold?"

"Yes," she said. The branch sucked and gurgled across the sand spit and on in the dark among the
willows. Across the shallow the water rippled and flopped like a piece of cloth, holding still a little light,
as water does.

"He's crossed all the oceans," she said. "All the way around the world." Then she talked about him.
Her hands were clasped about her wet knees and her face was lifted so that the gray light fell on it, and
the odor of honeysuckle. I could see the house, and the light in Mother's room, and Benjy's room, where Dilsey
was putting him to bed. Then Caddy stopped talking, sitting there, clasping her knees, her face lifted in the gray

"Do you love him?" I said. Her hand came out toward me. I didn't [illegible]. I watched it fumble along my
arm and slip down and take my hand. She held it flat against her chest, and I could feel her heart
<beating> thudding.

"No," she said.

"Did he make you, then?" I said. "He made you do it. He was stronger than you and he ——
tomorrow I'll kill him. I swear to. Father needn't know until afterward, and then you and I ——
[margin: Nobody need ever know]
We can take my school money, we can cancel my matriculation. Caddy! You hate him, dont you?
Dont you?" She held my hand against her breast, where her heart was thudding, and I turned
and caught her wet arm with my other hand. "Caddy! You hate him. Dont you?"

She took my hand from her breast and held it against her throat. I could feel her heart hammering there.