第 4 节
作者:
飘雪的季节 更新:2023-08-22 20:47 字数:9322
Anna; too; go down on her knees in the stillness。 Was she praying?
Again he had the turbulent feeling with which he had watched her
pluck those flowers。 She looked so splendid kneeling there! It
was caddish to feel like that; when she was praying; and he turned
quickly away into the road。 But that sharp; sweet stinging
sensation did not leave him。 He shut his eyes to get rid of her
imageand instantly she became ten times more visible; his feeling
ten times stronger。 He mounted to the hotel; there on the terrace
was his tutor。 And oddly enough; the sight of him at that moment
was no more embarrassing than if it had been the hotel concierge。
Stormer did not somehow seem to count; did not seem to want you to
count him。 Besides; he was so oldnearly fifty!
The man who was so old was posed in a characteristic attitude
hands in the pockets of his Norfolk jacket; one shoulder slightly
raised; head just a little on one side; as if preparing to quiz
something。 He spoke as Lennan came up; smilingbut not with his
eyes。
〃Well; young man; and what have you done with my wife?〃
〃Left her in a church; sir。〃
〃Ah! She will do that! Has she run you off your legs? No? Then
let's walk and talk a little。〃
To be thus pacing up and down and talking with her husband seemed
quite natural; did not even interfere with those new sensations;
did not in the least increase his shame for having them。 He only
wondered a little how she could have married himbut so little!
Quite far and academic was his wonderlike his wonder in old days
how his sister could care to play with dolls。 If he had any other
feeling; it was just a longing to get away and go down the hill
again to the church。 It seemed cold and lonely after all that long
day with heras if he had left himself up there; walking along
hour after hour; or lying out in the sun beside her。 What was old
Stormer talking about? The difference between the Greek and Roman
views of honour。 Always in the pastseemed to think the present
was bad form。 And he said:
〃We met some English Grundys; sir; on the mountain。〃
〃Ah; yes! Any particular brand?〃
〃Some advanced; and some not; but all the same; I think; really。〃
〃I see。 Grundys; I think you said?〃
〃Yes; sir; from this hotel。 It was Mrs。 Stormer's name for them。
They were so very superior。〃
〃Quite。〃
There was something unusual in the tone of that little word。 And
the boy staredfor the first time there seemed a real man standing
there。 Then the blood rushed up into his cheeks; for there she
was! Would she come up to them? How splendid she was looking;
burnt by the sun; and walking as if just starting! But she passed
into the hotel without turning her head their way。 Had he
offended; hurt her? He made an excuse; and got away to his room。
In the window from which that same morning he had watched the
mountains lying out like lions in the dim light; he stood again;
and gazed at the sun dropping over the high horizon。 What had
happened to him? He felt so different; so utterly different。 It
was another world。 And the most strange feeling came on him; as of
the flowers falling again all over his face and neck and hands; the
tickling of their soft…fringed edges; the stinging sweetness of
their scent。 And he seemed to hear her voice saying: 〃Feel!〃 and
to feel her heart once more beating under his hand。
VI
Alone with that black…shawled figure in the silent church; Anna did
not pray。 Resting there on her knees; she experienced only the
sore sensation of revolt。 Why had Fate flung this feeling into her
heart; lighted up her life suddenly; if God refused her its
enjoyment? Some of the mountain pinks remained clinging to her
belt; and the scent of them; crushed against her; warred with the
faint odour of age and incense。 While they were there; with their
enticement and their memories; prayer would never come。 But did
she want to pray? Did she desire the mood of that poor soul in her
black shawl; who had not moved by one hair's breadth since she had
been watching her; who seemed resting her humble self so utterly;
letting life lift from her; feeling the relief of nothingness? Ah;
yes! what would it be to have a life so toilsome; so little
exciting from day to day and hour to hour; that just to kneel there
in wistful stupor was the greatest pleasure one could know? It was
beautiful to see her; but it was sad。 And there came over Anna a
longing to go up to her neighbour and say: 〃Tell me your troubles;
we are both women。〃 She had lost a son; perhaps; some loveor
perhaps not really love; only some illusion。 Ah! Love。 。 。 。 Why
should any spirit yearn; why should any body; full of strength and
joy; wither slowly away for want of love? Was there not enough in
this great world for her; Anna; to have a little? She would not
harm him; for she would know when he had had enough of her; she
would surely have the pride and grace then to let him go。 For; of
course; he would get tired of her。 At her age she could never hope
to hold a boy more than a few yearsmonths; perhaps。 But would
she ever hold him at all? Youth was so hardit had no heart! And
then the memory of his eyes came backgazing up; troubled; almost
wildwhen she had dropped on him those flowers。 That memory
filled her with a sort of delirium。 One look from her then; one
touch; and he would have clasped her to him。 She was sure of it;
yet scarcely dared to believe what meant so much。 And suddenly the
torment that she must go through; whatever happened; seemed to her
too brutal and undeserved! She rose。 Just one gleam of sunlight
was still slanting through the doorway; it failed by a yard or so
to reach the kneeling countrywoman; and Anna watched。 Would it
steal on and touch her; or would the sun pass down behind the
mountains; and it fade away? Unconscious of that issue; the black…
shawled figure knelt; never moving。 And the beam crept on。 〃If it
touches her; then he will love me; if only for an hour; if it fades
out too soon〃 And the beam crept on。 That shadowy path of
light; with its dancing dust…motes; was it indeed charged with
Fateindeed the augury of Love or Darkness? And; slowly moving;
it mounted; the sun sinking; it rose above that bent head; hovered
in a golden mist; passedand suddenly was gone。
Unsteadily; seeing nothing plain; Anna walked out of the church。
Why she passed her husband and the boy on the terrace without a
look she could not quite have saidperhaps because the tortured
does not salute her torturers。 When she reached her room she felt
deadly tired; and lying down on her bed; almost at once fell
asleep。
She was wakened by a sound; and; recognizing the delicate 'rat…tat'
of her husband's knock; did not answer; indifferent whether he came
in or no。 He entered noiselessly。 If she did not let him know she
was awake; he would not wake her。 She lay still and watched him
sit down astride of a chair; cross his arms on its back; rest his
chin on them; and fix his eyes on her。 Through her veil of
eyelashes she had unconsciously contrived that his face should be
the one object plainly seenthe more intensely visualized; because
of this queer isolation。 She did not feel at all ashamed of this
mutual fixed scrutiny; in which she had such advantage。 He had
never shown her what was in him; never revealed what lay behind
those bright satiric eyes。 Now; perhaps; she would see! And she
lay; regarding him with the intense excited absorption with which
one looks at a tiny wildflower through a magnifying…lens; and
watches its insignificance expanded to the size and importance of a
hothouse bloom。 In her mind was this thought: He is looking at me
with his real self; since he has no reason for armour against me
now。 At first his eyes seemed masked with their customary
brightness; his whole face with its usual decorous formality; then
gradually he became so changed that she hardly knew him。 That
decorousness; that brightness; melted off what lay behind; as
frosty dew melts off grass。 And her very soul contracted within
her; as if she had become identified with what he was seeinga
something to be passed over; a very nothing。 Yes; his was the face
of one looking at what was unintelligible; and therefore
negligible; at that which had no soul; at something of a different
and inferior species and of no great interest to a man。 His face
was like a soundless avowal of some conclusion; so fixed and
intimate that it must surely emanate from the very core of himbe
instinctive; unchangeable。 This was the real he! A man despising
women! Her first thought was: And he's marriedwhat a fate! Her
second: If he feels that; perhaps thousands of men do! Am I and
all women really what they think us? The conviction in his stare
its through…and…through convictionhad infected her; and she gave
in to it for the moment; crushed。 Then her spirit revolted with
such turbulence; and the blood so throbbed in her; that she could
hardly lie still。 How dare he think her like thata nothing; a
bundle of soulless inexplicable whims and moods and sensuality? A
thousand times; No! It was HE who was the soulless one;