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The Dark Flower

by John Galsworthy




〃Take the flower from my breast; I pray thee;
 Take the flower too from out my tresses;
 And then go hence; for see; the night is fair;
 The stars rejoice to watch thee on thy way。〃
 From 〃The Bard of the Dimbovitza。〃



THE DARK FLOWER


Part I

Spring


I


He walked along Holywell that afternoon of early June with his
short gown drooping down his arms; and no cap on his thick dark
hair。  A youth of middle height; and built as if he had come of two
very different strains; one sturdy; the other wiry and light。  His
face; too; was a curious blend; for; though it was strongly formed;
its expression was rather soft and moody。  His eyesdark grey;
with a good deal of light in them; and very black lasheshad a way
of looking beyond what they saw; so that he did not seem always to
be quite present; but his smile was exceedingly swift; uncovering
teeth as white as a negro's; and giving his face a peculiar
eagerness。  People stared at him a little as he passedsince in
eighteen hundred and eighty he was before his time in not wearing a
cap。  Women especially were interested; they perceived that he took
no notice of them; seeming rather to be looking into distance; and
making combinations in his soul。

Did he know of what he was thinkingdid he ever know quite
definitely at that time of his life; when things; especially those
beyond the immediate horizon; were so curious and interesting?the
things he was going to see and do when he had got through Oxford;
where everybody was 'awfully decent' to him and 'all right' of
course; but not so very interesting。

He was on his way to his tutor's to read an essay on Oliver
Cromwell; and under the old wall; which had once hedged in the
town; he took out of his pocket a beast。  It was a small tortoise;
and; with an extreme absorption; he watched it move its little
inquiring head; feeling it all the time with his short; broad
fingers; as though to discover exactly how it was made。  It was
mighty hard in the back!  No wonder poor old Aeschylus felt a bit
sick when it fell on his head!  The ancients used it to stand the
world ona pagoda world; perhaps; of men and beasts and trees;
like that carving on his guardian's Chinese cabinet。  The Chinese
made jolly beasts and trees; as if they believed in everything
having a soul; and not only being just fit for people to eat or
drive or make houses of。  If only the Art School would let him
model things 'on his own;' instead of copying and copyingit was
just as if they imagined it would be dangerous to let you think out
anything for yourself!

He held the tortoise to his waistcoat; and let it crawl; till;
noticing that it was gnawing the corner of his essay; he put it
back into his pocket。  What would his tutor do if he were to know
it was there?cock his head a little to one side; and say: 〃Ah!
there are things; Lennan; not dreamed of in my philosophy!〃  Yes;
there were a good many not dreamed of by 'old Stormer;' who seemed
so awfully afraid of anything that wasn't usual; who seemed always
laughing at you; for fear that you should laugh at him。  There were
lots of people in Oxford like that。  It was stupid。  You couldn't
do anything decent if you were afraid of being laughed at!  Mrs。
Stormer wasn't like that; she did things becausethey came into
her head。  But then; of course; she was Austrian; not English; and
ever so much younger than old Stormer。

And having reached the door of his tutor's house; he rang the
bell。 。 。 。


II


When Anna Stormer came into the study she found her husband
standing at the window with his head a little on one sidea tall;
long…legged figure in clothes of a pleasant tweed; and wearing a
low turn…over collar (not common in those days) and a blue silk
tie; which she had knitted; strung through a ring。  He was humming
and gently tapping the window…pane with his well…kept finger…nails。
Though celebrated for the amount of work he got through; she never
caught him doing any in this house of theirs; chosen because it was
more than half a mile away from the College which held the 'dear
young clowns;' as he called them; of whom he was tutor。

He did not turnit was not; of course; his habit to notice what
was not absolutely necessarybut she felt that he was aware of
her。  She came to the window seat and sat down。  He looked round at
that; and said: 〃Ah!〃

It was a murmur almost of admiration; not usual from him; since;
with the exception of certain portions of the classics; it was
hardly his custom to admire。  But she knew that she was looking her
best sitting there; her really beautiful figure poised; the sun
shining on her brown hair; and brightening her deep…set; ice…green
eyes under their black lashes。  It was sometimes a great comfort to
her that she remained so good…looking。  It would have been an added
vexation indeed to have felt that she ruffled her husband's
fastidiousness。  Even so; her cheekbones were too high for his
taste; symbols of that something in her character which did not go
with histhe dash of desperation; of vividness; that lack of a
certain English smoothness; which always annoyed him。

〃Harold!〃she would never quite flatten her r's〃I want to go to
the mountains this year。〃

The mountains!  She had not seen them since that season at San
Martino di Castrozza twelve years ago; which had ended in her
marrying him。

〃Nostalgia!〃

〃I don't know what that meansI am homesick。  Can we go?〃

〃If you likewhy not?  But no leading up the Cimone della Pala for
ME!〃

She knew what he meant by that。  No romance。  How splendidly he had
led that day!  She had almost worshipped him。  What blindness!
What distortion!  Was it really the same man standing there with
those bright; doubting eyes; with grey already in his hair?  Yes;
romance was over!  And she sat silent; looking out into the street
that little old street into which she looked day and night。  A
figure passed out there; came to the door; and rang。

She said softly: 〃Here is Mark Lennan!〃

She felt her husband's eyes rest on her just for a moment; knew
that he had turned; heard him murmur: 〃Ah; the angel clown!〃  And;
quite still; she waited for the door to open。  There was the boy;
with his blessed dark head; and his shy; gentle gravity; and his
essay in his hand。

〃Well; Lennan; and how's old Noll?  Hypocrite of genius; eh?  Draw
up; let's get him over!〃

Motionless; from her seat at the window; she watched those two
figures at the tablethe boy reading in his queer; velvety bass
voice; her husband leaning back with the tips of his fingers
pressed together; his head a little on one side; and that faint;
satiric smile which never reached his eyes。  Yes; he was dozing;
falling asleep; and the boy; not seeing; was going on。  Then he
came to the end and glanced up。  What eyes he had!  Other boys
would have laughed; but he looked almost sorry。  She heard him
murmur: 〃I'm awfully sorry; sir。〃

〃Ah; Lennan; you caught me!  Fact is; term's fagged me out。  We're
going to the mountains。  Ever been to the mountains?  Whatnever!
You should come with us; eh?  What do you say; Anna?  Don't you
think this young man ought to come with us?〃

She got up; and stood staring at them both。  Had she heard aright?

Then she answeredvery gravely:

〃Yes; I think he ought。〃

〃Good; we'll get HIM to lead up the Cimone della Pala!〃


III


When the boy had said good…bye; and she had watched him out into
the street; Anna stood for a moment in the streak of sunlight that
came in through the open door; her hands pressed to cheeks which
were flaming。  Then she shut the door and leaned her forehead
against the window…pane; seeing nothing。  Her heart beat very fast;
she was going over and over again the scene just passed through。
This meant so much more than it had seemed to mean。 。 。 。

Though she always had Heimweh; and especially at the end of the
summer term; this year it had been a different feeling altogether
that made her say to her husband: 〃I want to go to the mountains!〃

For twelve years she had longed for the mountains every summer; but
had not pleaded for them; this year she had pleaded; but she did
not long for them。  It was because she had suddenly realized the
strange fact that she did not want to leave England; and the reason
for it; that she had come and begged to go。  Yet why; when it was
just to get away from thought of this boy; had she said: 〃Yes; I
think he ought to come!〃  Ah! but life for her was always a strange
pull between the conscientious and the desperate; a queer; vivid;
aching business!  How long was it now since that day when he first
came to lunch; silent and shy; and suddenly smiling as if he were
all lighted up withinthe day when she had said to her husband
afterwards: 〃Ah; he's an angel!〃  Not yet a yearthe beginning of
last October term; in fact。  He was different from all the other
boys; not that he was a prodigy with untidy hair; ill…fitting
clothes; and a clever tongue; but because of somethingsomething
Ah! welldifferent; because he washe; because she longed to take
his head between her hands and kiss it。  She remembered so well the

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