the glimpses of the moon-第30部分

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Suddenly　she　broke　off；　colouring　with　the　consciousness　that

she　had　said　exactly　the　kind　of　thing　that　all　the　women　who

were　trying　for　him　（except　the　very　cleverest）　would　be　sure　to

say；　and　that　he　would　certainly　suspect　her　of　attempting　the

conventional　comedy　of　disinterestedness；　than　which　nothing　was

less　likely　to　deceive　or　to　flatter　him。



His　twinkling　eyes　played　curiously　over　her　face；　and　she　went

on；　meeting　them　with　a　smile：　　〃But　don't　imagine；　all　the

same；　that　if　I　should　。。。　decide　。。。　it　would　be　altogether　for

your　beaux　yeux　。。。。〃



He　laughed；　she　thought；　rather　drily。　　〃No；〃　he　said；　〃I　don't

suppose　that's　ever　likely　to　happen　to　me　again。〃



〃Oh；　Streff〃　she　faltered　with　compunction。　　It　was　odd…once

upon　a　time　she　had　known　exactly　what　to　say　to　the　man　of　the

moment；　whoever　he　was；　and　whatever　kind　of　talk　he　required；

she　had　even；　in　the　difficult　days　before　her　marriage；　reeled

off　glibly　enough　the　sort　of　lime…light　sentimentality　that

plunged　poor　Fred　Gillow　into　such　speechless　beatitude。　　But

since　then　she　had　spoken　the　language　of　real　love；　looked　with

its　eyes；　embraced　with　its　hands；　and　now　the　other　trumpery

art　had　failed　her；　and　she　was　conscious　of　bungling　and

groping　like　a　beginner　under　Strefford's　ironic　scrutiny。



They　had　reached　their　obscure　destination　and　he　opened　the

door　and　glanced　in。



〃It's　jammednot　a　table。　　And　stifling！　　Where　shall　we　go？

Perhaps　they　could　give　us　a　room　to　ourselves〃　he　suggested。



She　assented；　and　they　were　led　up　a　cork…screw　staircase　to　a

squat…ceilinged　closet　lit　by　the　arched　top　of　a　high　window；

the　lower　panes　of　which　served　for　the　floor　below。　　Strefford

opened　the　window；　and　Susy；　throwing　her　cloak　on　the　divan；

leaned　on　the　balcony　while　he　ordered　luncheon。



On　the　whole　she　was　glad　they　were　to　be　alone。　　Just　because

she　felt　so　sure　of　Strefford　it　seemed　ungenerous　to　keep　him

longer　in　suspense。　　The　moment　had　come　when　they　must　have　a

decisive　talk；　and　in　the　crowded　rooms　below　it　would　have　been

impossible。



Strefford；　when　the　waiter　had　brought　the　first　course　and　left

them　to　themselves；　made　no　effort　to　revert　to　personal

matters。　　He　turned　instead　to　the　topic　always　most　congenial

to　him：　　the　humours　and　ironies　of　the　human　comedy；　as

presented　by　his　own　particular　group。　　His　malicious　commentary

on　life　had　always　amused　Susy　because　of　the　shrewd　flashes　of

philosophy　he　shed　on　the　social　antics　they　had　so　often

watched　together。　　He　was　in　fact　the　one　person　she　knew

（excepting　Nick）　who　was　in　the　show　and　yet　outside　of　it；　and

she　was　surprised；　as　the　talk　proceeded；　to　find　herself　so

little　interested　in　his　scraps　of　gossip；　and　so　little　amused

by　his　comments　on　them。



With　an　inward　shrug　of　discouragement　she　said　to　herself　that

probably　nothing　would　ever　really　amuse　her　again；　then；　as　she

listened；　she　began　to　understand　that　her　disappointment　arose

from　the　fact　that　Strefford；　in　reality；　could　not　live　without

these　people　whom　he　saw　through　and　satirized；　and　that　the

rather　commonplace　scandals　he　narrated　interested　him　as　much

as　his　own　racy　considerations　on　them；　and　she　was　filled　with

terror　at　the　thought　that　the　inmost　core　of　the　richly…

decorated　life　of　the　Countess　of　Altringham　would　be　just　as

poor　and　low…ceilinged　a　place　as　the　little　room　in　which　he

and　she　now　sat；　elbow　to　elbow　yet　so　unapproachably　apart。



If　Strefford　could　not　live　without　these　people；　neither　could

she　and　Nick；　but　for　reasons　how　different！　　And　if　his

opportunities　had　been　theirs；　what　a　world　they　would　have

created　for　themselves！　　Such　imaginings　were　vain；　and　she

shrank　back　from　them　into　the　present。　　After　all；　as　Lady

Altringham　she　would　have　the　power　to　create　that　world　which

she　and　Nick　had　dreamed　。。。　only　she　must　create　it　alone。

Well；　that　was　probably　the　law　of　things。　　All　human　happiness

was　thus　conditioned　and　circumscribed；　and　hers；　no　doubt；　must

always　be　of　the　lonely　kind；　since　material　things　did　not

suffice　for　it；　even　though　it　depended　on　them　as　Grace

Fulmer's；　for　instance；　never　had。　　Yet　even　Grace　Fulmer　had

succumbed　to　Ursula's　offer；　and　had　arrived　at　Ruan　the　day

before　Susy　left；　instead　of　going　to　Spain　with　her　husband　and

Violet　Melrose。　　But　then　Grace　was　making　the　sacrifice　for　her

children；　and　somehow　one　had　the　feeling　that　in　giving　up　her

liberty　she　was　not　surrendering　a　tittle　of　herself。　　All　the

difference　was　there　。。。。



〃How　I　do　bore　you！〃　　Susy　heard　Strefford　exclaim。　　She　became

aware　that　she　had　not　been　listening：　　stray　echoes　of　names　of

places　and　peopleViolet　Melrose；　Ursula；　Prince　Altineri；

others　of　their　group　and　persuasionhad　vainly　knocked　at　her

barricaded　brain；　what　had　he　been　telling　her　about　them？　　She

turned　to　him　and　their　eyes　met；　his　were　full　of　a　melancholy

irony。



〃Susy；　old　girl；　what's　wrong？〃



She　pulled　herself　together。　　〃I　was　thinking；　Streff；　just

nowwhen　I　said　I　hated　the　very　sound　of　pearls　and

chinchillahow　impossible　it　was　that　you　should　believe　me；　in

fact；　what　a　blunder　I'd　made　in　saying　it。〃



He　smiled。　　〃Because　it　was　what　so　many　other　women　might　be

likely　to　say　so　awfully　unoriginal；　in　fact？〃



She　laughed　for　sheer　joy　at　his　insight。　　〃It's　going　to　be

easier　than　I　imagined；〃　she　thought。　　Aloud　she　rejoined：　　〃Oh；

Streffhow　you're　always　going　to　find　me　out！　　Where　on　earth

shall　I　ever　hide　from　you？〃



〃Where？〃　　He　echoed　her　laugh；　laying　his　hand　lightly　on　hers。

〃In　my　heart；　I'm　afraid。〃



In　spite　of　the　laugh　his　accent　shook　her：　　something　about　it

took　all　the　mockery　from　his　retort；　checked　on　her　lips　the：

〃What？　　A　valentine！〃　and　made　her　suddenly　feel　that；　if　he

were　afraid；　so　was　she。　　Yet　she　was　touched　also；　and　wondered

half　exultingly　if　any　other　woman　had　ever　caught　that

particular　deep　inflexion　of　his　shrill　voice。　　She　had　never

liked　him　as　much　as　at　that　moment；　and　she　said　to　herself；

with　an　odd　sense　of　detachment；　as　if　she　had　been　rather

breathlessly　observing　the　vacillations　of　someone　whom　she

longed　to　persuade　but　dared　not：　　〃NowNOW；　if　he　speaks；　I

shall　say　yes！〃



He　did　not　speak；　but　abruptly；　and　as　startlingly　to　her　as　if

she　had　just　dropped　from　a　sphere　whose　inhabitants　had　other

methods　of　expressing　their　sympathy；　he　slipped　his　arm　around

her　and　bent　his　keen　ugly　melting　face　to　hers　。。。。



It　was　the　lightest　touchin　an　instant　she　was　free　again。

But　something　within　her　gasped　and　resisted　long　after　his　arm

and　his　lips　were　gone；　and　he　was　proceeding；　with　a　too…

studied　ease；　to　light　a　cigarette　and　sweeten　his　coffee。



He　had　kissed　her　。。。。　　Well；　naturally：　　why　not？　　It　was　not

the　first　time　she　had　been　kissed。　　It　was　true　that　one　didn't

habitually　associate　Streff　with　such　demonstrations；　but　she

had　not　that　excuse　for　surprise；　for　even　in　Venice　she　had

begun　to　notice　that　he　looked　at　her　differently；　and　avoided

her　hand　when　he　used　to　seek　it。



Noshe　ought　not　to　have　been　surprised；　nor　ought　a　kiss　to

have　been　so　disturbing。　　Such　incidents　had　punctuated　the

career　of　Susy　Branch：　　there　had　been；　in　particular；　in　far…

off　discarded　times；　Fred　Gillow's　large　but　artless　embraces。

Wellnothing　of　that　kind　had　seemed　of　any　more　account　than

the　click　of　a　leaf　in　a　woodland　walk。　　It　had　all　been　merely

epidermal；　ephemeral；　part　of　the　trivial　accepted　〃business〃　of

the　social　comedy。　　But　this　kiss　of　Strefford's　was　what　Nick's

had　been；　under　the　New　Hampshire　pines；　on　the　day　that　had

decided　their　fate。　　It　was　a　kiss　with　a　future　in　it：　　like　a

ring　slipped　upon　her　soul。　　And　now；　in　the　dreadful　pause　that

followedwhile　Strefford　fidgeted　with　his　cigarette…case　and

rattled　the　spoon　in　his　cup；　Susy　remembered　what　she　had　seen

through　the　circle　of　Nick's　kiss：　　that　blue　illimitable

distance　which　was　at　once　the　landscape　at　their　feet　and　the

future　in　their　souls　。。。。



Perhaps　that　was　what　Strefford's　sharply　narrowed　eyes　were

seeing　now；　that　same　illimitable　distance　that　she　had　lost

foreverperhaps　he　was　saying　to　himself；　as　she　had　said　to

herself　when　her　lips　left　Nick's：　　〃Each　time　we　kiss　we　shall

see　it　all　again　。。。。〃　　Whereas　all　she　herself　had　felt　was　the

gasping　recoil　from　Strefford's　touch；　and　an　intenser　vision　of

the　sordid　room　in　which　he　and　she　sat；　and　of　their　two

selves；　more　distant　from　each　other　than　if　their　embrace　had

been　a　sudden　thrusting　apart　。。。。



The　moment　prolonged　itself；　and　they　sat　numb。　　How　long　had　it

lasted？　　How　long　ago　was　it　that　she　had　thought：　　〃It's　going

to　be　easier　than　I　imagined〃？　　Suddenly　she　felt　Strefford's

queer　smile　upon　her；　and　saw　in　his　eyes　a　look；　not　of

reproach　or　disappointment；　but　of　deep　and　anxious

comprehension。　　Instead　of　being　angry　or　hurt；　he　had　seen；　he

had　understood；　he　was　sorry　for　her！



Impulsively　she　slipped　her　hand　into　his；　and　they　sat　silent

for　another　moment。　　Then　he　stood　up　and　took　her　cloak　from

the　divan。　　〃Shall　we　go　now！　　I've　got　cards　for　the　private

view　of　the　Reynolds　exhibition　at　the　Petit　Palais。　　There　are

some　portraits　from　Altringham。　　It　might　amuse　you。〃



In　the　taxi　she　had　time；　through　their　light　rattle　of　talk；　to

readjust　herself　and　drop　back　into　her　usual　feeling　of

friendly　ease　with　him。　　He　had　been　extraordinarily

considerate；　for　anyone　who　always　so　undisguisedly　sought　his

own　satisfaction　above　all　things；　and　if　his　considerateness

were　just　an　indirect　way　of　seeking　that　satisfaction　now；

well；　that　proved　how　much　he　cared　for　her；　how　necessary　to

his　happiness　she　had　become。　　The　sense　of　power　was　un