the dark flower-第26部分

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gloved　hand　pressed　his　hard；　and　she　was　gone。　　He　stayed　in　the
paddock；　too　happy　almost　to　breathe。　。　。　。

Next　day；　while　waiting　before　that　picture；　he　looked　at　it　with
wonder。　　For　there　seemed　his　own　passion　transfigured　in　the
darkening　star…crowned　sky；　and　the　eyes　of　the　leaping　god。　　In
spirit；　was　he　not　always　rushing　to　her　like　that？　　Minutes
passed；　and　she　did　not　come。　　What　should　he　do　if　she　failed　him？
Surely　die　of　disappointment　and　despair。　。　。　。　　He　had　little
enough　experience　as　yet　of　the　toughness　of　the　human　heart；　how
life　bruises　and　crushes；　yet　leaves　it　beating。　。　。　。　　Then；　from
an　unlikely　quarter；　he　saw　her　coming。

They　walked　in　silence　down　to　the　quiet　rooms　where　the　Turner
watercolours　hung。　　No　one；　save　two　Frenchmen　and　an　old　official；
watched　them　passing　slowly　before　those　little　pictures；　till　they
came　to　the　end　wall；　and；　unseen；　unheard　by　any　but　her；　he　could
begin！

The　arguments　he　had　so　carefully　rehearsed　were　all　forgotten；
nothing　left　but　an　incoherent　pleading。　　Life　without　her　was　not
life；　and　they　had　only　one　life　for　loveone　summer。　　It　was　all
dark　where　she　was　notthe　very　sun　itself　was　dark。　　Better　to
die　than　to　live　such　false；　broken　lives；　apart　from　each　other。
Better　to　die　at　once　than　to　live　wanting　each　other；　longing　and
longing；　and　watching　each　other's　sorrow。　　And　all　for　the　sake　of
what？　　It　maddened；　killed　him；　to　think　of　that　man　touching　her
when　he　knew　she　did　but　hate　him。　　It　shamed　all　manhood；　it　could
not　be　good　to　help　such　things　to　be。　　A　vow　when　the　spirit　of　it
was　gone　was　only　superstition；　it　was　wicked　to　waste　one's　life
for　the　sake　of　that。　　Societyshe　knew；　she　must　knowonly　cared
for　the　forms；　the　outsides　of　things。　　And　what　did　it　matter　what
Society　thought？　　It　had　no　soul；　no　feeling；　nothing。　　And　if　it
were　said　they　ought　to　sacrifice　themselves　for　the　sake　of
others；　to　make　things　happier　in　the　world；　she　must　know　that　was
only　true　when　love　was　light　and　selfish；　but　not　when　people
loved　as　they　did；　with　all　their　hearts　and　souls；　so　that　they
would　die　for　each　other　any　minute；　so　that　without　each　other
there　was　no　meaning　in　anything。　　It　would　not　help　a　single　soul；
for　them　to　murder　their　love　and　all　the　happiness　of　their　lives；
to　go　on　in　a　sort　of　living　death。　　Even　if　it　were　wrong；　he
would　rather　do　that　wrong；　and　take　the　consequences！　　But　it　was
not；　it　COULD　not　be　wrong；　when　they　felt　like　that！

And　all　the　time　that　he　was　pouring　forth　those　supplications；　his
eyes　searched　and　searched　her　face。　　But　there　only　came　from　her：
〃I　don't　knowI　can't　tellif　only　I　knew！〃　　And　then　he　was
silent；　stricken　to　the　heart；　till；　at　a　look　or　a　touch　from　her；
he　would　break　out　again：　〃You　do　love　meyou　do；　then　what　does
anything　else　matter？〃

And　so　it　went　on　and　on　that　summer　afternoon；　in　the　deserted
room　meant　for　such　other　things；　where　the　two　Frenchmen　were　too
sympathetic；　and　the　old　official　too　drowsy；　to　come。　　Then　it　all
narrowed　to　one　fierce；　insistent　question：

〃What　is　itWHAT　is　it　you're　afraid　of？〃

But　to　that；　too；　he　got　only　the　one　mournful　answer；　paralyzing
in　its　fateful　monotony。

〃I　don't　knowI　can't　tell！〃

It　was　awful　to　go　on　thus　beating　against　this　uncanny；　dark；
shadowy　resistance；　these　unreal　doubts　and　dreads；　that　by　their
very　dumbness　were　becoming　real　to　him；　too。　　If　only　she　could
tell　him　what　she　feared！　　It　could　not　be　povertythat　was　not
like　herbesides；　he　had　enough　for　both。　　It　could　not　be　loss　of
a　social　position；　which　was　but　irksome　to　her！　　Surely　it　was　not
fear　that　he　would　cease　to　love　her！　　What　was　it？　　In　God's　name
what？

To…morrowshe　had　told　himshe　was　to　go　down；　alone；　to　the
river…house；　would　she　not　come　now；　this　very　minute；　to　him
instead？　　And　they　would　start　offthat　night；　back　to　the　South
where　their　love　had　flowered。　　But　again　it　was：　〃I　can't！　　I
don't　knowI　must　have　time！〃　　And　yet　her　eyes　had　that　brooding
love…light。　　How　COULD　she　hold　back　and　waver？　　But；　utterly
exhausted；　he　did　not　plead　again；　did　not　even　resist　when　she
said：　〃You　must　go；　now；　and　leave　me　to　get　back！　　I　will　write。
PerhapssoonI　shall　know。〃　　He　begged　for；　and　took　one　kiss；
then；　passing　the　old　official；　went　quickly　up　and　out。


XV


He　reached　his　rooms　overcome　by　a　lassitude　that　was　not；　however；
quite　despair。　　He　had　made　his　effort；　failedbut　there　was　still
within　him　the　unconquerable　hope　of　the　passionate　lover。　。　。　。
As　well　try　to　extinguish　in　full　June　the　beating　of　the　heart　of
summer；　deny　to　the　flowers　their　deepening　hues；　or　to　winged　life
its　slumbrous　buzzing；　as　stifle　in　such　a　lover　his　conviction　of
fulfilment。　。　。　。

He　lay　down　on　a　couch；　and　there　stayed　a　long　time　quite　still；
his　forehead　pressed　against　the　wall。　　His　will　was　already
beginning　to　recover　for　a　fresh　attempt。　　It　was　merciful　that　she
was　going　away　from　Cramier；　going　to　where　he　had　in　fancy　watched
her　feed　her　doves。　　No　laws；　no　fears；　not　even　her　commands　could
stop　his　fancy　from　conjuring　her　up　by　day　and　night。　　He　had　but
to　close　his　eyes；　and　she　was　there。

A　ring　at　the　bell；　repeated　several　times；　roused　him　at　last　to
go　to　the　door。　　His　caller　was　Robert　Cramier。　　And　at　sight　of
him；　all　Lennan's　lethargy　gave　place　to　a　steely　feeling。　　What
had　brought　him　here？　　Had　he　been　spying　on　his　wife？　　The　old
longing　for　physical　combat　came　over　him。　　Cramier　was　perhaps
fifteen　years　his　senior；　but　taller；　heavier；　thicker。　　Chances；
then；　were　pretty　equal！

〃Won't　you　come　in？〃　he　said。

〃Thanks。〃

The　voice　had　in　it　the　same　mockery　as　on　Sunday；　and　it　shot
through　him　that　Cramier　had　thought　to　find　his　wife　here。　　If　so；
he　did　not　betray　it　by　any　crude　look　round。　　He　came　in　with　his
deliberate　step；　light　and　well…poised　for　so　big　a　man。

〃So　this；〃　he　said；　〃is　where　you　produce　your　masterpieces！
Anything　great　since　you　came　back？〃

Lennan　lifted　the　cloths　from　the　half…modelled　figure　of　his　bull…
man。　　He　felt　malicious　pleasure　in　doing　that。　　Would　Cramier
recognize　himself　in　this　creature　with　the　horn…like　ears；　and
great　bossed　forehead？　　If　this　man　who　had　her　happiness　beneath
his　heel　had　come　here　to　mock；　he　should　at　all　events　get　what　he
had　come　to　give。　　And　he　waited。

〃I　see。　　You　are　giving　the　poor　brute　horns！〃

If　Cramier　had　seen；　he　had　dared　to　add　a　touch　of　cynical　humour；
which　the　sculptor　himself　had　never　thought　of。　　And　this　even
evoked　in　the　young　man　a　kind　of　admiring　compunction。

〃Those　are　not　horns；〃　he　said　gently；　〃only　ears。〃

Cramier　lifted　a　hand　and　touched　the　edge　of　his　own　ear。

〃Not　quite　like　that；　are　theyhuman　ears？　　But　I　suppose　you
would　call　this　symbolic。　　What；　if　I　may　ask；　does　it　represent？〃

All　the　softness　in　Lennan　vanished。

〃If　you　can't　gather　that　from　looking；　it　must　be　a　failure。〃

〃Not　at　all。　　If　I　am　right；　you　want　something　for　it　to　tread　on；
don't　you；　to　get　your　full　effect？〃

Lennan　touched　the　base　of　the　clay。

〃The　broken　curve　here〃then；　with　sudden　disgust　at　this　fencing；
was　silent。　　What　had　the　man　come　for？　　He　must　want　something。
And；　as　if　answering；　Cramier　said：

〃To　pass　to　another　subjectyou　see　a　good　deal　of　my　wife。　　I
just　wanted　to　tell　you　that　I　don't　very　much　care　that　you
should。　　It　is　as　well　to　be　quite　frank；　I　think。〃

Lennan　bowed。

〃Is　that　not；〃　he　said；　〃perhaps　rather　a　matter　for　HER　decision？〃

That　heavy　figurethose　threatening　eyes！　　The　whole　thing　was
like　a　dream　come　true！

〃I　do　not　feel　it　so。　　I　am　not　one　of　those　who　let　things　drift。
Please　understand　me。　　You　come　between　us　at　your　peril。〃

Lennan　kept　silence　for　a　moment；　then　he　said　quietly：

〃Can　one　come　between　two　people　who　have　ceased　to　have　anything
in　common？〃

The　veins　in　Cramier's　forehead　were　swollen；　his　face　and　neck　had
grown　crimson。　　And　Lennan　thought　with　strange　elation：　Now　he's
going　to　hit　me！　　He　could　hardly　keep　his　hands　from　shooting　out
and　seizing　in　advance　that　great　strong　neck。　　If　he　could
strangle；　and　have　done　with　him！

But；　quite　suddenly；　Cramier　turned　on　his　heel。　　〃I　have　warned
you；〃　he　said；　and　went。

Lennan　took　a　long　breath。　　So！　　That　was　over；　and　he　knew　where
he　was。　　If　Cramier　had　struck　out；　he　would　surely　have　seized　his
neck　and　held　on　till　life　was　gone。　　Nothing　should　have　shaken
him　off。　　In　fancy　he　could　see　himself　swaying；　writhing；　reeling；
battered　about　by　those　heavy　fists；　but　always　with　his　hands　on
the　thick　neck；　squeezing　out　its　life。　　He　could　feel；　absolutely
feel；　the　last　reel　and　stagger　of　that　great　bulk　crashing　down；
dragging　him　with　it；　till　it　lay　upturned；　still。　　He　covered　his
eyes　with　his　hands。　。　。　。　　Thank　God！　　The　fellow　had　not　hit　out！

He　went　to　the　door；　opened　it；　and　stood　leaning　against　the　door…
post。　　All　was　still　and　drowsy　out　there　in　that　quiet　backwater
of　a　street。　　Not　a　soul　in　sight！　　How　still；　for　London！　　Only
the　birds。　　In　a　neighbouring　studio　someone　was　playing　Chopin。
Queer！　　He　had　almost　forgotten　there　was　such　a　thing　as　Chopin。
A　mazurka！　　Spinning　like　some　top　thing；　round　and　roundweird
little　tune！　。　。　。　　Well；　and　what　now？　　Only　one　thing　certain。
Sooner　give　up　life　than　give　her　up！　　Far　sooner！　　Love　her；
achieve　heror　give　up　everything；　and　drown　to　that　tune　going　on
and　on；　that　little　dancing　dirge　of　summer！


XVI


At　her　cottage　Olive　stood　often　by　the　river。

What　lay　beneath　all　that　bright　waterwhat　strange；　deep；
swaying；　life　so　far　below　the　ruffling　of　wind；　and　the　shadows　of
the　willow　trees？　　Was　love　down　there；　too？　　Love　between　sentient
things；　where　it　was　almost　dark；　or　had　all　passion　climbed　up　to
rustle　with　the　reeds；　and　float　with　the　water…flowers　in　the
sunlight？　　Was　there　colour？　　Or　had　colour　been　drowned？　　No　scent
and　no　music；　but　movement　there　would　be；　for　all　the　dim　groping
things　bending　one　way　to　the　currentmovement；　no　less　than　in
the　aspen…leaves；　n