the dark flower-第41部分

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all　the　other　couples　sink　into　insignificance；　with　that　something
in　them　both　that　was　better　than　mere　good　looksthat　something
not　outre　or　eccentric；　but　poignant；　wayward。　　They　went　well
together；　those　two　Dromoreshis　dark　head　and　her　fair　head；　his
clear；　brown；　daring　eyes；　and　her　grey；　languorous；　mesmeric　eyes。
Ah！　　Master　Oliver　was　happy　now；　with　her　so　close　to　him！　　It　was
not　jealousy　that　Lennan　felt。　　Not　quiteone　did　not　feel　jealous
of　the　young；　something　very　deeppride；　sense　of　proportion；　who
knew　whatprevented　that。　　She；　too；　looked　happy；　as　if　her　soul
were　dancing；　vibrating　with　the　music　and　the　scent　of　the
flowers。　　He　waited　for　her　to　come　round　once　more；　to　get　for　a
last　time　that　flying　glance　turned　back；　then　found　his　coat　and
hat　and　went。


XIII


Outside；　he　walked　a　few　steps；　then　stood　looking　back　at　the
windows　of　the　hall　through　some　trees；　the　shadows　of　whose
trunks；　in　the　light　of　a　street　lamp；　were　spilled　out　along　the
ground　like　the　splines　of　a　fan。　　A　church　clock　struck　eleven。
For　hours　yet　she　would　be　there；　going　round　and　round　in　the　arms
of　Youth！　　Try　as　he　might　he　could　never　recapture　for　himself　the
look　that　Oliver's　face　had　wornthe　look　that　was　the　symbol　of
so　much　more　than　he　himself　could　give　her。　　Why　had　she　come　into
his　lifeto　her　undoing；　and　his　own？　　And　the　bizarre　thought
came　to　him：　If　she　were　dead　should　I　really　care？　　Should　I　not
be　almost　glad？　　If　she　were　dead　her　witchery　would　be　dead；　and　I
could　stand　up　straight　again　and　look　people　in　the　face！　　What
was　this　power　that　played　with　men；　darted　into　them；　twisted
their　hearts　to　rags；　this　power　that　had　looked　through　her　eyes
when　she　put　her　fan；　with　his　flowers；　to　her　lips？

The　thrumming　of　the　music　ceased；　he　walked　away。

It　must　have　been　nearly　twelve　when　he　reached　home。　　Now；　once
more；　would　begin　the　gruesome　process　of　deceptionflinching　of
soul；　and　brazening　of　visage。　　It　would　be　better　when　the　whole
thievish　business　was　irretrievably　begun　and　ordered　in　its　secret
courses！

There　was　no　light　in　the　drawing…room；　save　just　the　glow　of　the
fire。　　If　only　Sylvia　might　have　gone　to　bed！　　Then　he　saw　her；
sitting　motionless　out　there　by　the　uncurtained　window。

He　went　over　to　her；　and　began　his　hateful　formula：

〃I'm　afraid　you've　been　lonely。　　I　had　to　stay　rather　late。　　A　dull
evening。〃　　And；　since　she　did　not　move　or　answer；　but　just　sat
there　very　still　and　white；　he　forced　himself　to　go　close；　bend
down　to　her；　touch　her　cheek；　even　to　kneel　beside　her。　　She　looked
round　then；　her　face　was　quiet　enough；　but　her　eyes　were　strangely
eager。　　With　a　pitiful　little　smile　she　broke　out：

〃Oh；　Mark！　　What　is　itwhat　is　it？　　Anything　is　better　than　this！〃

Perhaps　it　was　the　smile；　perhaps　her　voice　or　eyesbut　something
gave　way　in　Lennan。　　Secrecy；　precaution　went　by　the　board。　　Bowing
his　head　against　her　breast；　he　poured　it　all　out；　while　they
clung；　clutched　together　in　the　half　dark　like　two　frightened
children。　　Only　when　he　had　finished　did　he　realize　that　if　she　had
pushed　him　away；　refused　to　let　him　touch　her；　it　would　have　been
far　less　piteous；　far　easier　to　bear；　than　her　wan　face　and　her
hands　clutching　him；　and　her　words：　〃I　never　thoughtyou　and　I
oh！　Markyou　and　I〃　　The　trust　in　their　life　together；　in
himself；　that　those　words　revealed！　　Yet；　not　greater　than　he　had
hadstill　had！　　She　could　not　understandhe　had　known　that　she
could　never　understand；　it　was　why　he　had　fought　so　for　secrecy；
all　through。　　She　was　taking　it　as　if　she　had　lost　everything；　and
in　his　mind　she　had　lost　nothing。　　This　passion；　this　craving　for
Youth　and　Life；　this　madnesscall　it　what　one　wouldwas　something
quite　apart；　not　touching　his　love　and　need　of　her。　　If　she　would
only　believe　that！　　Over　and　over　he　repeated　it；　over　and　over
again　perceived　that　she　could　not　take　it　in。　　The　only　thing　she
saw　was　that　his　love　had　gone　from　her　to　anotherthough　that　was
not　true！　　Suddenly　she　broke　out　of　his　arms；　pushing　him　from
her；　and　cried：　〃That　girlhateful；　horrible；　false！〃　　Never　had
he　seen　her　look　like　this；　with　flaming　spots　in　her　white　cheeks；
soft　lips　and　chin　distorted；　blue　eyes　flaming；　breast　heaving；　as
if　each　breath　were　drawn　from　lungs　that　received　no　air。　　And
then；　as　quickly；　the　fire　went　out　of　her；　she　sank　down　on　the
sofa；　covering　her　face　with　her　arms；　rocking　to　and　fro。　　She　did
not　cry；　but　a　little　moan　came　from　her　now　and　then。　　And　each
one　of　those　sounds　was　to　Lennan　like　the　cry　of　something　he　was
murdering。　　At　last　he　went　and　sat　down　on　the　sofa　by　her　and
said：

〃Sylvia！　　Sylvia！　　Don't！　oh！　don't！〃　　And　she　was　silent；　ceasing
to　rock　herself；　letting　him　smooth　and　stroke　her。　　But　her　face
she　kept　hidden；　and　only　once　she　spoke；　so　low　that　he　could
hardly　hear：　〃I　can'tI　won't　keep　you　from　her。〃　　And　with　the
awful　feeling　that　no　words　could　reach　or　soothe　the　wound　in　that
tender　heart；　he　could　only　go　on　stroking　and　kissing　her　hands。

It　was　atrocioushorriblethis　that　he　had　done！　　God　knew　that
he　had　not　sought　itthe　thing　had　come　on　him。　　Surely　even　in
her　misery　she　could　see　that！　　Deep　down　beneath　his　grief　and
self…hatred；　he　knew；　what　neither　she　nor　anyone　else　could　know
that　he　could　not　have　prevented　this　feeling；　which　went　back　to
days　before　he　ever　saw　the　girlthat　no　man　could　have　stopped
that　feeling　in　himself。　　This　craving　and　roving　was　as　much　part
of　him　as　his　eyes　and　hands；　as　overwhelming　and　natural　a　longing
as　his　hunger　for　work；　or　his　need　of　the　peace　that　Sylvia　gave；
and　alone　could　give　him。　　That　was　the　tragedyit　was　all　sunk
and　rooted　in　the　very　nature　of　a　man。　　Since　the　girl　had　come
into　their　lives　he　was　no　more　unfaithful　to　his　wife　in　thought
than　he　had　been　before。　　If　only　she　could　look　into　him；　see　him
exactly　as　he　was；　as；　without　part　or　lot　in　the　process；　he　had
been　madethen　she　would　understand；　and　even　might　not　suffer；
but　she　could　not；　and　he　could　never　make　it　plain。　　And　solemnly；
desperately；　with　a　weary　feeling　of　the　futility　of　words；　he　went
on　trying：　Could　she　not　see？　　It　was　all　a　thing　outside　hima
craving；　a　chase　after　beauty　and　life；　after　his　own　youth！　　At
that　word　she　looked　at　him：

〃And　do　you　think　I　don't　want　my　youth　back？〃

He　stopped。

For　a　woman　to　feel　that　her　beautythe　brightness　of　her　hair　and
eyes；　the　grace　and　suppleness　of　her　limbswere　slipping　from　her
and　from　the　man　she　loved！　　Was　there　anything　more　bitter？or
any　more　sacred　duty　than　not　to　add　to　that　bitterness；　not　to
push　her　with　suffering　into　old　age；　but　to　help　keep　the　star　of
her　faith　in　her　charm　intact！

Man　and　womanthey　both　wanted　youth　again；　she；　that　she　might
give　it　all　to　him；　he；　because　it　would　help　him　towards
somethingnew！　　Just　that　world　of　difference！

He　got　up；　and　said：

〃Come；　dear；　let's　try　and　sleep。〃

He　had　not　once　said　that　he　could　give　it　up。　　The　words　would　not
pass　his　lips；　though　he　knew　she　must　be　conscious　that　he　had　not
said　them；　must　be　longing　to　hear　them。　　All　he　had　been　able　to
say　was：

〃So　long　as　you　want　me；　you　shall　never　lose　me〃　。　。　。　and；　〃I
will　never　keep　anything　from　you　again。〃

Up　in　their　room　she　lay　hour　after　hour　in　his　arms；　quite
unresentful；　but　without　life　in　her；　and　with　eyes　that；　when　his
lips　touched　them；　were　always　wet。

What　a　maze　was　a　man's　heart；　wherein　he　must　lose　himself　every
minute！　　What　involved　and　intricate　turnings　and　turnings　on
itself；　what　fugitive　replacement　of　emotion　by　emotion！　　What
strife　between　pities　and　passions；　what　longing　for　peace！　。　。　。

And　in　his　feverish　exhaustion；　which　was　almost　sleep；　Lennan
hardly　knew　whether　it　was　the　thrum　of　music　or　Sylvia's　moaning
that　he　heard；　her　body　or　Nell's　within　his　arms。　。　。　。

But　life　had　to　be　lived；　a　face　preserved　against　the　world；
engagements　kept。　　And　the　nightmare　went　on　for　both　of　them；
under　the　calm　surface　of　an　ordinary　Sunday。　　They　were　like
people　walking　at　the　edge　of　a　high　cliff；　not　knowing　from　step
to　step　whether　they　would　fall；　or　like　swimmers　struggling　for
issue　out　of　a　dark　whirlpool。

In　the　afternoon　they　went　together　to　a　concert；　it　was　just
something　to　dosomething　that　saved　them　for　an　hour　or　two　from
the　possibility　of　speaking　on　the　one　subject　left　to　them。　　The
ship　had　gone　down；　and　they　were　clutching　at　anything　that　for　a
moment　would　help　to　keep　them　above　water。

In　the　evening　some　people　came　to　supper；　a　writer　and　two
painters；　with　their　wives。　　A　grim　eveningnever　more　so　than
when　the　conversation　turned　on　that　perennial　themethe　freedom；
spiritual；　mental；　physical；　requisite　for　those　who　practise　Art。
All　the　stale　arguments　were　brought　forth；　and　had　to　be　joined　in
with　unmoved　faces。　　And　for　all　their　talk　of　freedom；　Lennan
could　see　the　volte…face　his　friends　would　be　making；　if　they　only
knew。　　It　was　not　'the　thing'　to　seduce　young　girlsas　if；
forsooth；　there　were　freedom　in　doing　only　what　people　thought　'the
thing'！　　Their　cant　about　the　free　artist　spirit　experiencing
everything；　would　wither　the　moment　it　came　up　against　a　canon　of
'good　form；'　so　that　in　truth　it　was　no　freer　than　the　bourgeois
spirit；　with　its　conventions；　or　the　priest　spirit；　with　its　cry　of
'Sin！'　　No；　no！　　To　resistif　resistance　were　possible　to　this
dragging　powermaxims　of　'good　form；'　dogmas　of　religion　and
morality；　were　no　helpnothing　was　any　help；　but　some　feeling
stronger　than　passion　itself。　　Sylvia's　face；　forced　to　smile！
that；　indeed　was　a　reason　why　they　should　condemn　him！　　None　of
their　doctrines　about　freedom　could　explain　that　awaythe　harm；
the　death　that　came　to　a　man's　soul　when　he　made　a　loving；　faithful
creature　suffer。

But　they　were　gone　at　lastwith　their　〃Thanks　so　much！〃　and　their
〃Delightful　evening！〃

And　those　two　were　face　to　face　for　another　night。

He　knew　that　it　must　begin　all　over　againinevitable；　after　the
stab　of　that　wretched　argument　plunged　into　their　hearts　and　turned
and