the glimpses of the moon-第38部分

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poignantly　than　a　more　heroic　figure。　　〃No　more　champagne；

please；　Nelson。　　Besides；〃　she　suddenly　added；　〃it's　not　true。〃



He　stared。　　〃Not　true　that　you're　going　to　marry　Altringham？〃



〃No。〃



〃By　George　then　what　on　earth　did　you　chuck　Nick　for？　　Ain't　you

got　an　Affinity；　my　dear？〃



She　laughed　and　shook　her　head。



〃Do　you　mean　to　tell　me　it's　all　Nick's　doing；　then？〃



〃I　don't　know。　　Let's　talk　of　you　instead；　Nelson。　　I'm　glad

you're　in　such　good　spirits。　　I　rather　thought〃



He　interrupted　her　quickly。　　〃Thought　I'd　cut　up　a　rumpus…do

some　shooting？　　I　knowpeople　did。〃　　He　twisted　his　moustache；

evidently　proud　of　his　reputation。　　〃Well；　maybe　I　did　see　red

for　a　day　or　twobut　I'm　a　philosopher；　first　and　last。　　Before

I　went　into　banking　I'd　made　and　lost　two　fortunes　out　West。

Well；　how　did　I　build　'em　up　again？　　Not　by　shooting　anybody

even　myself。　　By　just　buckling　to；　and　beginning　all　over　again。

That's　how　。。。　and　that's　what　I　am　doing　now。　　Beginning　all

over　again。　　　　〃　　His　voice　dropped　from　boastfulness　to　a　note

of　wistful　melancholy；　the　look　of　strained　jauntiness　fell　from

his　face　like　a　mask；　and　for　an　instant　she　saw　the　real　man；

old；　ruined；　lonely。　　Yes；　that　was　it：　　he　was　lonely；

desperately　lonely；　foundering　in　such　deep　seas　of　solitude

that　any　presence　out　of　the　past　was　like　a　spar　to　which　he

clung。　　Whatever　he　knew　or　guessed　of　the　part　she　had　played

in　his　disaster；　it　was　not　callousness　that　had　made　him　greet

her　with　such　forgiving　warmth；　but　the　same　sense　of　smallness；

insignificance　and　isolation　which　perpetually　hung　like　a　cold

fog　on　her　own　horizon。　　Suddenly　she　too　felt　oldold　and

unspeakably　tired。



〃It's　been　nice　seeing　you；　Nelson。　　But　now　I　must　be　getting

home。〃



He　offered　no　objection；　but　asked　for　the　bill；　resumed　his

jaunty　air　while　he　scattered　largesse　among　the　waiters；　and

sauntered　out　behind　her　after　calling　for　a　taxi。



They　drove　off　in　silence。　　Susy　was　thinking：　　〃And　Clarissa？〃

but　dared　not　ask。　　Vanderlyn　lit　a　cigarette；　hummed　a　dance…

tune；　and　stared　out　of　the　window。　　Suddenly　she　felt　his　hand

on　hers。



〃Susydo　you　ever　see　her？〃



〃SeeEllie？〃



He　nodded；　without　turning　toward　her。



〃Not　often　。。。　sometimes　。。。。〃



〃If　you　do；　for　God's　sake　tell　her　I'm　happy　。。。　happy　as　a

king　。。。　tell　her　you　could　see　for　yourself　that　I　was　。。。。〃

His　voice　broke　in　a　little　gasp。　　〃I　。。。　I'll　be　damned　if　。。。

if　she　shall　ever　be　unhappy　about　me　。。。　if　I　can　help　it　。。。。〃

The　cigarette　dropped　from　his　fingers；　and　with　a　sob　he

covered　his　face。



〃Oh；　poor　Nelsonpoor　Nelson；　〃　Susy　breathed。　　While　their　cab

rattled　across　the　Place　du　Carrousel；　and　over　the　bridge；　he

continued　to　sit　beside　her　with　hidden　face。　　At　last　he　pulled

out　a　scented　handkerchief；　rubbed　his　eyes　with　it；　and　groped

for　another　cigarette。



〃I'm　all　right！　　Tell　her　that；　will　you；　Susy？　　There　are　some

of　our　old　times　I　don't　suppose　I　shall　ever　forget；　but　they

make　me　feel　kindly　to　her；　and　not　angry。　　I　didn't　know　it

would　be　so；　beforehandbut　it　is　。。。。　　And　now　the　thing's

settled　I'm　as　right　as　a　trivet；　and　you　can　tell　her　so　。。。。

Look　here；　Susy　。。。〃　he　caught　her　by　the　arm　as　the　taxi　drew

up　at　her　hotel　。。。。　　〃Tell　her　I　understand；　will　you？　　I'd

rather　like　her　to　know　that　。。。。　〃



〃I'll　tell　her；　Nelson；〃　she　promised；　and　climbed　the　stairs

alone　to　her　dreary　room。



Susy's　one　fear　was　that　Strefford；　when　he　returned　the　next

day；　should　treat　their　talk　of　the　previous　evening　as　a　fit　of

〃nerves〃　to　be　jested　away。　　He　might；　indeed；　resent　her

behaviour　too　deeply　to　seek　to　see　her　at　once；　but　his

easygoing　modern　attitude　toward　conduct　and　convictions　made

that　improbable。　　She　had　an　idea　that　what　he　had　most　minded

was　her　dropping　so　unceremoniously　out　of　the　Embassy　Dinner。



But；　after　all；　why　should　she　see　him　again？　　She　had　had

enough　of　explanations　during　the　last　months　to　have　learned

how　seldom　they　explain　anything。　　If　the　other　person　did　not

understand　at　the　first　word；　at　the　first　glance　even；

subsequent　elucidations　served　only　to　deepen　the　obscurity。

And　she　wanted　above　alland　especially　since　her　hour　with

Nelson　Vanderlynto　keep　herself　free；　aloof；　to　retain　her

hold　on　her　precariously　recovered　self。　　She　sat　down　and　wrote

to　Streffordand　the　letter　was　only　a　little　less　painful　to

write　than　the　one　she　had　despatched　to　Nick。　　It　was　not　that

her　own　feelings　were　in　any　like　measure　engaged；　but　because；

as　the　decision　to　give　up　Strefford　affirmed　itself；　she

remembered　only　his　kindness；　his　forbearance；　his　good　humour；

and　all　the　other　qualities　she　had　always　liked　in　him；　and

because　she　felt　ashamed　of　the　hesitations　which　must　cause　him

so　much　pain　and　humiliation。　　Yes：　　humiliation　chiefly。　　She

knew　that　what　she　had　to　say　would　hurt　his　pride；　in　whatever

way　she　framed　her　renunciation；　and　her　pen　wavered；　hating　its

task。　　Then　she　remembered　Vanderlyn's　words　about　his　wife：

〃There　are　some　of　our　old　times　I　don't　suppose　I　shall　ever

forget〃　and　a　phrase　of　Grace　Fulmer's　that　she　had　but　half

grasped　at　the　time：　　〃You　haven't　been　married　long　enough　to

understand　how　trifling　such　things　seem　in　the　balance　of　one's

memories。〃



Here　were　two　people　who　had　penetrated　farther　than　she　into

the　labyrinth　of　the　wedded　state；　and　struggled　through　some　of

its　thorniest　passages；　and　yet　both；　one　consciously；　the　other

half…unaware；　testified　to　the　mysterious　fact　which　was　already

dawning　on　her：　　that　the　influence　of　a　marriage　begun　in

mutual　understanding　is　too　deep　not　to　reassert　itself　even　in

the　moment　of　flight　and　denial。



〃The　real　reason　is　that　you're　not　Nick〃　was　what　she　would

have　said　to　Strefford　if　she　had　dared　to　set　down　the　bare

truth；　and　she　knew　that；　whatever　she　wrote；　he　was　too　acute

not　to　read　that　into　it。



〃He'll　think　it's　because　I'm　still　in　love　with　Nick　。。。　and

perhaps　I　am。　　But　even　if　I　were；　the　difference　doesn't　seem

to　lie　there；　after　all；　but　deeper；　in　things　we've　shared　that

seem　to　be　meant　to　outlast　love；　or　to　change　it　into　something

different。〃　　If　she　could　have　hoped　to　make　Strefford

understand　that；　the　letter　would　have　been　easy　enough　to

writebut　she　knew　just　at　what　point　his　imagination　would

fail；　in　what　obvious　and　superficial　inferences　it　would　rest





〃Poor　Streffpoor　me！〃　she　thought　as　she　sealed　the　letter。



After　she　had　despatched　it　a　sense　of　blankness　descended　on

her。　　She　had　succeeded　in　driving　from　her　mind　all　vain

hesitations；　doubts；　returns　upon　herself：　　her　healthy　system

naturally　rejected　them。　　But　they　left　a　queer　emptiness　in

which　her　thoughts　rattled　about　as　thoughts　might；　she

supposed；　in　the　first　moments　after　deathbefore　one　got　used

to　it。　　To　get　used　to　being　dead：　　that　seemed　to　be　her

immediate　business。　　And　she　felt　such　a　novice　at　itfelt　so

horribly　alive！　　How　had　those　others　learned　to　do　without

living？　　Nelsonwell；　he　was　still　in　the　throes；　and　probably

never　would　understand；　or　be　able　to　communicate；　the　lesson

when　he　had　mastered　it。　　But　Grace　Fulmershe　suddenly

remembered　that　Grace　was　in　Paris；　and　set　forth　to　find　her。







XXIV



NICK　LANSING　had　walked　out　a　long　way　into　the　Campagna。　　His

hours　were　seldom　his　own；　for　both　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Hicks　were

becoming　more　and　more　addicted　to　sudden　and　somewhat　imperious

demands　upon　his　time；　but　on　this　occasion　he　had　simply

slipped　away　after　luncheon；　and　taking　the　tram　to　the　Porta

Salaria；　had　wandered　on　thence　in　the　direction　of　the　Ponte

Nomentano。



He　wanted　to　get　away　and　think；　but　now　that　he　had　done　it　the

business　proved　as　unfruitful　as　everything　he　had　put　his　hand

to　since　he　had　left　Venice。　　Thinkthink　about　what？　　His

future　seemed　to　him　a　negligible　matter　since　he　had　received；

two　months　earlier；　the　few　lines　in　which　Susy　had　asked　him

for　her　freedom。



The　letter　had　been　a　shockthough　he　had　fancied　himself　so

prepared　for　ityet　it　had　also；　in　another　sense；　been　a

relief；　since；　now　that　at　last　circumstances　compelled　him　to

write　to　her；　they　also　told　him　what　to　say。　And　he　had　said　it

as　briefly　and　simply　as　possible；　telling　her　that　he　would　put

no　obstacle　in　the　way　of　her　release；　that　he　held　himself　at

her　lawyer's　disposal　to　answer　any　further　communicationand

that　he　would　never　forget　their　days　together；　or　cease　to

bless　her　for　them。



That　was　all。　　He　gave　his　Roman　banker's　address；　and　waited

for　another　letter；　but　none　came。　　Probably　the　〃formalities；〃

whatever　they　were；　took　longer　than　he　had　supposed；　and　being

in　no　haste　to　recover　his　own　liberty；　he　did　not　try　to　learn

the　cause　of　the　delay。　　From　that　moment；　however；　he

considered　himself　virtually　free；　and　ceased；　by　the　same

token；　to　take　any　interest　in　his　own　future。　　His　life　seemed

as　flat　as　a　convalescent's　first　days　after　the　fever　has

dropped。



The　only　thing　he　was　sure　of　was　that　he　was　not　going　to

remain　in　the　Hickses'　employ：　　when　they　left　Rome　for　Central

Asia　he　had　no　intention　of　accompanying　them。　　The　part　of　Mr。

Buttles'　successor　was　becoming　daily　more　intolerable　to　him；

for　the　very　reasons　that　had　probably　made　it　most　gratifying

to　Mr。　Buttles。　　To　be　treated　by　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Hicks　as　a　paid

oracle；　a　paraded　and　petted　piece　of　property；　was　a　good　deal

more　distasteful　than　he　could　have　imagined　any　relation　with

these　kindly　people　could　be。　　And　since　their　aspirations　had

become　frankly　social　he　found　his　task；　if　easier；　yet　far　less

congenial　than　during　his　first　months　with　them。　　He　preferred

patiently　explaining　to　Mrs。　Hicks；　for　the