man of property-第68节

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red　by　a　hundred　anxieties。

And　as　he　wandered；　he　thought　of　him　who　had　finished　his　wandering；　his　prowling；　and　would　never　haunt　his　house　again。

Already　in　the　afternoon　he　passed　posters　announcing　the　identity　of　the　dead　man；　and　bought　the　papers　to　see　what　they　said。　　He　would　stop　their　mouths　if　he　could；　and　he　went　into　the　City；　and　was　closeted　with　Boulter　for　a　long　time。

On　his　way　home；　passing　the　steps　of　Jobson's　about　half　past　four；　he　met　George　Forsyte；　who　held　out　an　evening　paper　to　Soames；　saying：

〃Here！　Have　you　seen　this　about　the　poor　Buccaneer？〃

Soames　answered　stonily：　〃Yes。〃

George　stared　at　him。　　He　had　never　liked　Soames；　he　now　held　him　responsible　for　Bosinney's　death。　　Soames　had　done　for　himdone　for　him　by　that　act　of　property　that　had　sent　the　Buccaneer　to　run　amok　that　fatal　afternoon。

'The　poor　fellow；'　he　was　thinking；　'was　so　cracked　with　jealousy；　so　cracked　for　his　vengeance；　that　he　heard　nothing　of　the　omnibus　in　that　infernal　fog。'

Soames　had　done　for　him！　　And　this　judgment　was　in　George's　eyes。

〃They　talk　of　suicide　here；〃　he　said　at　last。　　〃That　cat　won't　jump。〃

Soames　shook　his　head。　　〃An　accident；〃　he　muttered。

Clenching　his　fist　on　the　paper；　George　crammed　it　into　his　pocket。　　He　could　not　resist　a　parting　shot。

〃H'mm！　　All　flourishing　at　home？　　Any　little　Soameses　yet？〃

With　a　face　as　white　as　the　steps　of　Jobson's；　and　a　lip　raised　as　if　snarling；　Soames　brushed　past　him　and　was　gone。。。。

On　reaching　home；　and　entering　the　little　lighted　hall　with　his　latchkey；　the　first　thing　that　caught　his　eye　was　his　wife's　gold…mounted　umbrella　lying　on　the　rug　chest。　　Flinging　off　his　fur　coat；　he　hurried　to　the　drawing…room。

The　curtains　were　drawn　for　the　night；　a　bright　fire　of　cedar…logs　burned　in　the　grate；　and　by　its　light　he　saw　Irene　sitting　in　her　usual　corner　on　the　sofa。　　He　shut　the　door　softly；　and　went　towards　her。　　She　did　not　move；　and　did　not　seem　to　see　him。

〃So　you've　come　back？〃　he　said。　　〃Why　are　you　sitting　here　in　the　dark？〃

Then　he　caught　sight　of　her　face；　so　white　and　motionless　that　it　seemed　as　though　the　blood　must　have　stopped　flowing　in　her　veins；　and　her　eyes；　that　looked　enormous；　like　the　great；　wide；　startled　brown　eyes　of　an　owl。

Huddled　in　her　grey　fur　against　the　sofa　cushions；　she　had　a　strange　resemblance　to　a　captive　owl；　bunched　fir　its　soft　feathers　against　the　wires　of　a　cage。　　The　supple　erectness　of　her　figure　was　gone；　as　though　she　had　been　broken　by　cruel　exercise；　as　though　there　were　no　longer　any　reason　for　being　beautiful；　and　supple；　and　erect。

〃So　you've　come　back；〃　he　repeated。

She　never　looked　up；　and　never　spoke；　the　firelight　playing　over　her　motionless　figure。

Suddenly　she　tried　to　rise；　but　he　prevented　her；　it　was　then　that　he　understood。

She　had　come　back　like　an　animal　wounded　to　death；　not　knowing　where　to　turn；　not　knowing　what　she　was　doing。　　The　sight　of　her　figure；　huddled　in　the　fur；　was　enough。

He　knew　then　for　certain　that　Bosinney　had　been　her　lover；　knew　that　she　had　seen　the　report　of　his　deathperhaps；　like　himself；　had　bought　a　paper　at　the　draughty　corner　of　a　street；　and　read　it。

She　had　come　back　then　of　her　own　accord；　to　the　cage　she　had　pined　to　be　free　ofand　taking　in　all　the　tremendous　significance　of　this；　he　longed　to　cry：　〃Take　your　hated　body；　that　I　love；　out　of　my　house！　　Take　away　that　pitiful　white　face；　so　cruel　and　softbefore　I　crush　it。　　Get　out　of　my　sight；　never　let　me　see　you　again！〃

And；　at　those　unspoken　words；　he　seemed　to　see　her　rise　and　move　away；　like　a　woman　in　a　terrible　dream；　from　which　she　was　fighting　to　awakerise　and　go　out　into　the　dark　and　cold；　without　a　thought　of　him；　without　so　much　as　the　knowledge　of　his　presence。

Then　he　cried；　contradicting　what　he　had　not　yet　spoken；　〃No；　stay　there！〃　And　turning　away　from　her；　he　sat　down　in　his　accustomed　chair　on　the　other　side　of　the　hearth。

They　sat　in　silence。

And　Soames　thought：　'Why　is　all　this？　　Why　should　I　suffer　so？　What　have　I　done？　　It　is　not　my　fault！'

Again　he　looked　at　her；　huddled　like　a　bird　that　is　shot　and　dying；　whose　poor　breast　you　see　panting　as　the　air　is　taken　from　it；　whose　poor　eyes　look　at　you　who　have　shot　it；　with　a　slow；　soft；　unseeing　look；　taking　farewell　of　all　that　is　goodof　the　sun；　and　the　air；　and　its　mate。

So　they　sat；　by　the　firelight；　in　the　silence；　one　on　each　side　of　the　hearth。

And　the　fume　of　the　burning　cedar　logs；　that　he　loved　so　well；　seemed　to　grip　Soames　by　the　throat　till　he　could　bear　it　no　longer。　　And　going　out　into　the　hall　he　flung　the　door　wide；　to　gulp　down　the　cold　air　that　came　in；　then　without　hat　or　overcoat　went　out　into　the　Square。

Along　the　garden　rails　a　half…starved　cat　came　rubbing　her　way　towards　him；　and　Soames　thought：　'Suffering！　　when　will　it　cease；　my　suffering？'

At　a　front　door　across　the　way　was　a　man　of　his　acquaintance　named　Rutter；　scraping　his　boots；　with　an　air　of　'I　am　master　here。'　And　Soames　walked　on。

》From　far　in　the　clear　air　the　bells　of　the　church　where　he　and　Irene　had　been　married　were　pealing　in　'practice'　for　the　advent　of　Christ；　the　chimes　ringing　out　above　the　sound　of　traffic。　　He　felt　a　craving　for　strong　drink；　to　lull　him　to　indifference；　or　rouse　him　to　fury。　　If　only　he　could　burst　out　of　himself；　out　of　this　web　that　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　felt　around　him。　If　only　he　could　surrender　to　the　thought：　'Divorce　herturn　her　out！　　She　has　forgotten　you。　　Forget　her！'

If　only　he　could　surrender　to　the　thought：　'Let　her　goshe　has　suffered　enough！'

If　only　he　could　surrender　to　the　desire：　'Make　a　slave　of　her　she　is　in　your　power！'

If　only　even　he　could　surrender　to　the　sudden　vision：　'What　does　it　all　matter？'　　Forget　himself　for　a　minute；　forget　that　it　mattered　what　he　did；　forget　that　whatever　he　did　he　must　sacrifice　something。

If　only　he　could　act　on　an　impulse！

He　could　forget　nothing；　surrender　to　no　thought；　vision；　or　desire；　it　was　all　too　serious；　too　close　around　him；　an　unbreakable　cage。

On　the　far　side　of　the　Square　newspaper　boys　were　calling　their　evening　wares；　and　the　ghoulish　cries　mingled　and　jangled　with　the　sound　of　those　church　bells。

Soames　covered　his　ears。　　The　thought　flashed　across　him　that　but　for　a　chance；　he　himself；　and　not　Bosinney；　might　be　lying　dead；　and　she；　instead　of　crouching　there　like　a　shot　bird　with　those　dying　eyes。。。。

Something　soft　touched　his　legs；　the　cat　was　rubbing　herself　against　them。　　And　a　sob　that　shook　him　from　head　to　foot　burst　from　Soames'　chest。　　Then　all　was　still　again　in　the　dark；　where　the　houses　seemed　to　stare　at　him；　each　with　a　master　and　mistress　of　its　own；　and　a　secret　story　of　happiness　or　sorrow。

And　suddenly　he　saw　that　his　own　door　was　open；　and　black　against　the　light　from　the　hall　a　man　standing　with　his　back　turned。　Something　slid　too　in　his　breast；　and　he　stole　up　close　behind。

He　could　see　his　own　fur　coat　flung　across　the　carved　oak　chair；　the　Persian　rugs；　the　silver　bowls；　the　rows　of　porcelain　plates　arranged　along　the　walls；　and　this　unknown　man　who　was　standing　there。

And　sharply　he　asked：　〃What　is　it　you　want；　sir？〃

The　visitor　turned。　　It　was　young　Jolyon。

〃The　door　was　open；〃　he　said。　　〃Might　I　see　your　wife　for　a　minute；　I　have　a　message　for　her？〃

Soames　gave　him　a　strange；　sidelong　stare。

〃My　wife　can　see　no　one；〃　he　muttered　doggedly。

Young　Jolyon　answered　gently：　〃I　shouldn't　keep　her　a　minute。〃

Soames　brushed　by　him　and　barred　the　way。

〃She　can　see　no　one；〃　he　said　again。

Young　Jolyon's　glance　shot　past　him　into　the　hall；　and　Soames　turned。　　There　in　the　drawing…room　doorway　stood　Irene；　her　eyes　were　wild　and　eager；　her　lips　were　parted；　her　hands　out…　stretched。　　In　the　sight　of　both　men　that　light　vanished　from　her　face；　her　hands　dropped　to　her　sides；　she　stood　like　stone。

Soames　spun　round；　and　met　his　visitor's　eyes；　and　at　the　look　he　saw　in　them；　a　sound　like　a　snarl　escaped　him。　　He　drew　his　lips　back　in　the　ghost　of　a　smile。

〃This　is　my　house；〃　he　said；　〃I　manage　my　own　affairs。　　I've　told　you　onceI　tell　you　again；　we　are　not　at　home。〃

And　in　young　Jolyon's　face　he　slammed　the　door。





End