the dwelling place of ligh-第18部分

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the　faculty　of　keeping　his　engagements　in　her　head；　she　came　early　to　the
office；　remaining　after　hours；　going　through　the　files；　becoming　familiar　with
his　system；　and　she　learned　to　sort　out　his　correspondence；　sifting　the
important　from　the　unimportant；　to　protect　him；　more　and　more；　from　numerous
visitors　who　called　only　to　waste　his　time。　　Her　instinct　for　the　detection　of
book…agents；　no　matter　how　brisk　and　businesslike　they　might　appear；　was
unerringshe　remembered　faces　and　the　names　belonging　to　them：　an　individual
once　observed　to　be　persona　non　grata　never　succeeded　in　passing　her　twice。　　On
one　occasion　Ditmar　came　out　of　his　office　to　see　the　back　of　one　of　these
visitors　disappearing　into　the　corridor。

〃Who　was　that？〃　he　asked。

〃His　name　is　McCalla；〃　she　said。　　〃I　thought　you　didn't　want　to　be　bothered。〃

〃But　how　in　thunder　did　you　get　rid　of　him？〃　he　demanded。

〃Oh；　I　just　wouldn't　let　him　in；〃　she　replied　demurely。

And　Ditmar　went　away；　wondering。。。。　　Thus　she　gtudied　him；　without　permitting
him　to　suspect　it；　learning　his　idiosyncrasies；　his　attitude　toward　all　those
with　whom　daily　he　came　in　contact；　only　to　find　herself　approving。　　She　was
forced　to　admit　that　he　was　a　judge　of　men；　compelled　to　admire　his　adroitness
in　dealing　with　them。　　He　could　be　democratic　or　autocratic　as　occasion
demanded；　he　knew　when　to　yield；　and　when　to　remain　inflexible。　　One　morning；
for　instance；　there　arrived　from　New　York　a　dapper　salesman　whose　jauntily　tied
bow；　whose　thin　haircarefully　parted　to　conceal　an　incipient　baldnesswhose
wary　and　slightly　weary　eyes　all　impressively　suggested　the　metropolitan
atmosphere　of　high　pressure　and　sophistication　from　which　he　had　emerged。　　He
had　a　machine　to　sell；　an　amazing　machine；　endowed　with　human　intelligence　and
more　than　human　infallibility；　for　when　it　made　a　mistake　it　stopped。　　It　was
designed　for　the　express　purpose　of　eliminating　from　the　payroll　the　skilled
and　sharp…eyed　women　who　are　known　as　〃drawers…in；〃　who　sit　all　day　long　under
a　north　light　patiently　threading　the　ends　of　the　warp　through　the　heddles　of
the　loom　harness。　　Janet's　imagination　was　gradually　fired　as　she　listened　to
the　visitor's　eloquence；　and　the　textile　industry；　which　hitherto　had　seemed　to
her　uninteresting　and　sordid；　took　on　the　colours　of　romance。

〃Now　I've　made　up　my　mind　we'll　place　one　with　you；　Mr。　Ditmar；〃　the　salesman
concluded。　　〃I　don't　object　to　telling　you　we'd　rather　have　one　in　the
Chippering　than　in　any　mill　in　New　England。〃

Janet　was　surprised；　almost　shocked　to　see　Ditmar　shake　his　head；　yet　she　felt
a　certain　reluctant　admiration　because　he　had　not　been　swayed　by　blandishments。
At　such　moments；　when　he　was　bent　on　refusing　a　request；　he　seemed　physically
to　acquire　massiveness；and　he　had　a　dogged　way　of　chewing　his　cigar。

〃I　don't　want　it；　yet；〃　he　replied；　〃not　until　you　improve　it。〃　　And　she　was
impressed　by　the　fact　that　he　seemed　to　know　as　much　about　the　machine　as　the
salesman　himself。　　In　spite　of　protests；　denials；　appeals；　he　remained　firm。
〃When　you　get　rid　of　the　defects　I've　mentioned　come　back；　Mr。　Hicksbut　don't
come　back　until　then。〃

And　Mr。　Hicks　departed；　discomfited。。。。

Ditmar　knew　what　he　wanted。　　Of　the　mill　he　was　the　absolute　master；　familiar
with　every　process；　carrying　constantly　in　his　mind　how　many　spindles；　how　many
looms　were　at　work；　and　if　anything　untoward　happened；　becoming　aware　of　it　by
what　seemed　to　Janet　a　subconscious　process；　sending　for　the　superintendent　of
the　department：　for　Mr。　Orcutt；　perhaps；　whose　office　was　across　the　halla
tall；　lean；　spectacled　man　of　fifty　who　looked　like　a　schoolmaster。

〃Orcutt；　what's　the　matter　with　the　opener　in　Cooney's　room？〃

〃Why；　the　blower's　out　of　order。〃

〃Well；　whose　fault　is　it？〃。。。。

He　knew　every　watchman　and　foreman　in　the　mill；　and　many　of　the　second　hands。
The　old　workers；　men　and　women　who　had　been　in　the　Chippering　employ　through
good　and　bad　times　for　years；　had　a　place　in　his　affections；　but　toward　the
labour　force　in　general　his　attitude　was　impersonal。　　The　mill　had　to　be　run；
and　people　to　be　got　to　run　it。　　With　him；　first　and　last　and　always　it　was　the
mill；　and　little　by　little　what　had　been　for　Janet　a　heterogeneous　mass　of
machinery　and　human　beings　became　unified　and　personified　in　Claude　Ditmar。　　It
was　odd　how　the　essence　and　quality　of　that　great　building　had　changed　for　her；
how　the　very　roaring　of　the　looms；　as　she　drew　near　the　canal　in　the　mornings；
had　ceased　to　be　sinister　and　depressing；　but　bore　now　a　burden　like　a　great
battle　song　to　excite　and　inspire；　to　remind　her　that　she　had　been　snatched　as
by　a　miracle　from　the　commonplace。　　And　all　this　was　a　function　of　Ditmar。

Life　had　become　portentous。　　And　she　was　troubled　by　no　qualms　of　logic；　but
gloried；　womanlike；　in　her　lack　of　it。　　She　did　not　ask　herself　why　she　had
deliberately　enlarged　upon　Miss　Ottway's　duties；　invaded　debatable　ground　in
part　inevitably　personal；　flung　herself　with　such　abandon　into　the　enterprise
of　his　life's　passion；　at　the　same　time　maintaining　a　deceptive　attitude　of
detachment；　half　deceiving　herself　that　it　was　zeal　for　the　work　by　which　she
was　actuated。　　In　her　soul　she　knew　better。　　She　was　really　pouring　fuel　on　the
flames。　　She　read　him；　up　to　a　certain　pointas　far　as　was　necessary；　and
beneath　his　attempts　at　self…control　she　was　conscious　of　a　dynamic　desire　that
betrayed　itself　in　many　acts　and　signs；as　when　he　brushed　against　her；　and
occasionally　when　he　gave　evidence　with　his　subordinates　of　a　certain　shortness
of　temper　unusual　with　him　she　experienced　a　vaguely　alarming　but　delicious
thrill　of　power。　　And　this；　of　all　men；　was　the　great　Mr。　Ditmar！　　Was　she　in
love　with　him？　　That　question　did　not　trouble　her　either。　　She　continued　to
experience　in　his　presence　waves　of　antagonism　and　attraction；　revealing　to　her
depths　and　possibilities　of　her　nature　that　frightened　while　they　fascinated。
It　never　occurred　to　her　to　desist。　　That　craving　in　her　for　high　adventure　was
not　to　be　denied。

On　summer　evenings　it　had　been　Ditmar's　habit　when　in　Hampton　to　stroll　about
his　lawn；　from　time　to　time　changing　the　position　of　the　sprinkler；　smoking　a
cigar；　and　reflecting　pleasantly　upon　his　existence。　　His　house；　as　he　gazed　at
it　against　the　whitening　sky；　was　an　eminently　satisfactory　abode；　his　wife　was
dead；　his　children　gave　him　no　trouble；　he　felt　a　glow　of　paternal　pride　in　his
son　as　the　boy　raced　up　and　down　the　sidewalk　on　a　bicycle；　George　was　manly；
large　and　strong　for　his　age；　and　had　a　domineering　way　with　other　boys　that
gave　Ditmar　secret　pleasure。　　Of　Amy；　who　was　showing　a　tendency　to　stoutness；
and　who　had　inherited　her　mother's　liking　for　candy　and　romances；　Ditmar
thought　scarcely　at　all：　he　would　glance　at　her　as　she　lounged；　reading；　in　a
chair　on　the　porch；　but　she　did　not　come　within　his　range　of　problems。　　He　had；
in　short；　everything　to　make　a　reasonable　man　content；　a　life　nicely　compounded
of　sustenance；　pleasure；　and　business；business　naturally　being　the　greatest
of　these。　　He　wasthough　he　did　not　know　itethically　and　philosophically
right　in　squaring　his　morals　with　his　occupation；　and　his　had　been　the　good
fortune　to　live　in　a　world　whose　codes　and　conventions　had　been　carefully
adjusted　to　the　pursuit　of　that　particular　brand　of　happiness　he　had　made　his
own。　　Why；　then；　in　the　name　of　that　happiness；　of　the　peace　and　sanity　and
pleasurable　effort　it　had　brought　him；　had　he　allowed　and　even　encouraged　the
advent　of　a　new　element　that　threatened　to　destroy　the　equilibrium　achieved？　an
element　refusing　to　be　classified　under　the　head　of　property；　since　it　involved
something　he　desired　and　could　not　buy？　　A　woman　who　was　not　property；　who
resisted　the　attempt　to　be　turned　into　property；　was　an　anomaly　in　Ditmar's
universe。　　He　had　not；　of　course；　existed　for　more　than　forty　years　without
having　heard　and　read　of　and　even　encountered　in　an　acquaintance　or　two　the
species　of　sex　attraction　sentimentally　called　love　that　sometimes　made　fools
of　men　and　played　havoc　with　more　important　affairs；　but　in　his　experience　it
had　never　interfered　with　his　sanity　or　his　appetite　or　the　Chippering　Mill：　it
had　never　made　his　cigars　taste　bitter；　it　had　never　caused　a　deterioration　in
the　appreciation　of　what　he　had　achieved　and　held。　　But　now　he　was　experiencing
strange　symptoms　of　an　intensity　out　of　all　proportion　to　that　of　former
relations　with　the　other　sex。　　What　was　most　unusual　for　him；　he　was　alarmed
and　depressed；　at　moments　irritable。　　He　regretted　the　capricious　and
apparently　accidental　impulse　that　had　made　him　pretend　to　tinker　with　his
automobile　that　day　by　the　canal；　that　had　led　him　to　the　incomparable　idiocy
of　getting　rid　of　Miss　Ottway　and　installing　the　disturber　of　his　peace　as　his
private　stenographer。

What　the　devil　was　it　in　her　that　made　him　so　uncomfortable？　　When　in　his
office　he　had　difficulty　in　keeping　his　mind　on　matters　of　import；　he　would
watch　her　furtively　as　she　went　about　the　room　with　the　lithe　and　noiseless
movements　that　excited　him　the　more　because　he　suspected　beneath　her　outward
and　restrained　demeanour　a　fierceness　he　craved　yet　feared。　　He　thought　of　her
continually　as　a　panther；　a　panther　he　had　caught　and　could　not　tame；　he　hadn't
even　caught　her；　since　she　might　escape　at　any　time。　　He　took　precautions　not
to　alarm　her。　　When　she　brushed　against　him　he　trembled。　　Continually　she
baffled　and　puzzled　him；　and　he　never　could　tell　of　what　she　was　thinking。　　She
represented　a　whole　set　of　new　and　undetermined　values　for　which　he　had　no
precedents；　and　unlike　every　woman　he　had　knownincluding　his　wifeshe　had　an
integrity　of　her　own；　seemingly　beyond　the　reach　of　all　influences　economic　and
social。　　All　the　more　exasperating；　therefore；　was　a　propinquity　creating　an
intimacy　without　substance；　or　without　the　substance　he　craved　for　she　had
magically　become　for　him　a　sort　of　enveloping；　protecting　atmosphere。　　In　an
astonishingly　brief　time　he　had　fallen　into　the　habit　of　talking　things　over
with　her；　naturally　not　affairs　of　the　first　importance；　but　matters　such　as
the　e