the dark flower-第5节

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bundle　of　soulless　inexplicable　whims　and　moods　and　sensuality？　　A
thousand　times；　No！　　It　was　HE　who　was　the　soulless　one；　the　dry；
the　godless　one；　who；　in　his　sickening　superiority；　could　thus　deny
her；　and　with　her　all　women！　　That　stare　was　as　if　he　saw　hera
doll　tricked　out　in　garments　labelled　soul；　spirit；　rights；
responsibilities；　dignity；　freedomall　so　many　words。　　It　was
vile；　it　was　horrible；　that　he　should　see　her　thus！　　And　a　really
terrific　struggle　began　in　her　between　the　desire　to　get　up　and　cry
this　out；　and　the　knowledge　that　it　would　be　stupid；　undignified；
even　mad；　to　show　her　comprehension　of　what　he　would　never　admit　or
even　understand　that　he　had　revealed　to　her。　　And　then　a　sort　of
cynicism　came　to　her　rescue。　　What　a　funny　thing　was　married　life
to　have　lived　all　these　years　with　him；　and　never　known　what　was　at
the　bottom　of　his　heart！　　She　had　the　feeling　now　that；　if　she　went
up　to　him　and　said：　〃I　am　in　love　with　that　boy！〃　it　would　only
make　him　droop　the　corners　of　his　mouth　and　say　in　his　most　satiric
voice：　〃Really！　　That　is　very　interesting！〃would　not　change　in
one　iota　his　real　thoughts　of　her；　only　confirm　him　in　the
conviction　that　she　was　negligible；　inexplicable；　an　inferior
strange　form　of　animal；　of　no　real　interest　to　him。

And　then；　just　when　she　felt　that　she　could　not　hold　herself　in　any
longer；　he　got　up；　passed　on　tiptoe　to　the　door；　opened　it
noiselessly；　and　went　out。

The　moment　he　had　gone；　she　jumped　up。　　So；　then；　she　was　linked　to
one　for　whom　she；　for　whom　women；　did　not；　as　it　were；　exist！　　It
seemed　to　her　that　she　had　stumbled　on　knowledge　of　almost　sacred
importance；　on　the　key　of　everything　that　had　been　puzzling　and
hopeless　in　their　married　life。　　If　he　really；　secretly；　whole…
heartedly　despised　her；　the　only　feeling　she　need　have　for　one　so
dry；　so　narrow；　so　basically　stupid；　was　just　contempt。　　But　she
knew　well　enough　that　contempt　would　not　shake　what　she　had　seen　in
his　face；　he　was　impregnably　walled　within　his　clever；　dull
conviction　of　superiority。　　He　was　for　ever　intrenched；　and　she
would　always　be　only　the　assailant。　　Thoughwhat　did　it　matter；
now？

Usually　swift；　almost　careless；　she　was　a　long　time　that　evening
over　her　toilette。　　Her　neck　was　very　sunburnt；　and　she　lingered；
doubtful　whether　to　hide　it　with　powder；　or　accept　her　gipsy
colouring。　　She　did　accept　it；　for　she　saw　that　it　gave　her　eyes；
so　like　glacier　ice；　under　their　black　lashes；　and　her　hair；　with
its　surprising　glints　of　flame　colour；　a　peculiar　value。

When　the　dinner…bell　rang　she　passed　her　husband's　door　without；　as
usual；　knocking；　and　went　down　alone。

In　the　hall　she　noticed　some　of　the　English　party　of　the　mountain
hut。　　They　did　not　greet　her；　conceiving　an　immediate　interest　in
the　barometer；　but　she　could　feel　them　staring　at　her　very　hard。
She　sat　down　to　wait；　and　at　once　became　conscious　of　the　boy
coming　over　from　the　other　side　of　the　room；　rather　like　a　person
walking　in　his　sleep。　　He　said　not　a　word。　　But　how　he　looked！　　And
her　heart　began　to　beat。　　Was　this　the　moment　she　had　longed　for？
If　it；　indeed；　had　come；　dared　she　take　it？　　Then　she　saw　her
husband　descending　the　stairs；　saw　him　greet　the　English　party；
heard　the　intoning　of　their　drawl。　　She　looked　up　at　the　boy；　and
said　quickly：　〃Was　it　a　happy　day？〃　　It　gave　her　such　delight　to
keep　that　look　on　his　face；　that　look　as　if　he　had　forgotten
everything　except　just　the　sight　of　her。　　His　eyes　seemed　to　have
in　them　something　holy　at　that　moment；　something　of　the　wonder…
yearning　of　Nature　and　of　innocence。　　It　was　dreadful　to　know　that
in　a　moment　that　look　must　be　gone；　perhaps　never　to　come　back　on
his　facethat　look　so　precious！　　Her　husband　was　approaching　now！
Let　him　see；　if　he　would！　　Let　him　see　that　someone　could　adore
that　she　was　not　to　everyone　a　kind　of　lower　animal。　　Yes；　he　must
have　seen　the　boy's　face；　and　yet　his　expression　never　changed。　　He
noticed　nothing！　　Or　was　it　that　he　disdained　to　notice？


VII


Then　followed　for　young　Lennan　a　strange　time；　when　he　never　knew
from　minute　to　minute　whether　he　was　happyalways　trying　to　be
with　her；　restless　if　he　could　not　be；　sore　if　she　talked　with　and
smiled　at　others；　yet；　when　he　was　with　her；　restless　too；
unsatisfied；　suffering　from　his　own　timidity。

One　wet　morning；　when　she　was　playing　the　hotel　piano；　and　he
listening；　thinking　to　have　her　to　himself；　there　came　a　young
German　violinistpale；　and　with　a　brown；　thin…waisted　coat；
longish　hair；　and　little　whiskersrather　a　beast；　in　fact。　　Soon；
of　course；　this　young　beast　was　asking　her　to　accompany　himas　if
anyone　wanted　to　hear　him　play　his　disgusting　violin！　　Every　word
and　smile　that　she　gave　him　hurt　so；　seeing　how　much　more
interesting　than　himself　this　foreigner　was！　　And　his　heart　grew
heavier　and　heavier；　and　he　thought：　If　she　likes　him　I　ought　not
to　mindonly；　I　DO　mind！　　How　can　I　help　minding？　　It　was　hateful
to　see　her　smiling；　and　the　young　beast　bending　down　to　her。　　And
they　were　talking　German；　so　that　he　could　not　tell　what　they　were
saying；　which　made　it　more　unbearable。　　He　had　not　known　there
could　be　such　torture。

And　then　he　began　to　want　to　hurt　her；　too。　　But　that　was　mean
besides；　how　could　he　hurt　her？　　She　did　not　care　for　him。　　He　was
nothing　to　heronly　a　boy。　　If　she　really　thought　him　only　a　boy；
who　felt　so　oldit　would　be　horrible。　　It　flashed　across　him　that
she　might　be　playing　that　young　violinist　against　him！　　No；　she
never　would　do　that！　　But　the　young　beast　looked　just　the　sort　that
might　take　advantage　of　her　smiles。　　If　only　he　WOULD　do　something
that　was　not　respectful；　how　splendid　it　would　be　to　ask　him　to
come　for　a　walk　in　the　woods；　and；　having　told　him　why；　give　him　a
thrashing。　　Afterwards；　he　would　not　tell　her；　he　would　not　try　to
gain　credit　by　it。　　He　would　keep　away　till　she　wanted　him　back。
But　suddenly　the　thought　of　what　he　would　feel　if　she　really　meant
to　take　this　young　man　as　her　friend　in　place　of　him　became　so
actual；　so　poignant；　so　horribly　painful；　that　he　got　up　abruptly
and　went　towards　the　door。　　Would　she　not　say　a　word　to　him　before
he　got　out　of　the　room；　would　she　not　try　and　keep　him？　　If　she　did
not；　surely　it　would　be　all　over；　it　would　mean　that　anybody　was
more　to　her　than　he。　　That　little　journey　to　the　door；　indeed；
seemed　like　a　march　to　execution。　　Would　she　not　call　after　him？
He　looked　back。　　She　was　smiling。　　But　HE　could　not　smile；　she　had
hurt　him　too　much！　　Turning　his　head　away；　he　went　out；　and　dashed
into　the　rain　bareheaded。　　The　feeling　of　it　on　his　face　gave　him　a
sort　of　dismal　satisfaction。　　Soon　he　would　be　wet　through。
Perhaps　he　would　get　ill。　　Out　here；　far　away　from　his　people；　she
would　have　to　offer　to　nurse　him；　and　perhapsperhaps　in　his
illness　he　would　seem　to　her　again　more　interesting　than　that　young
beast；　and　then　　Ah！　if　only　he　could　be　ill！

He　mounted　rapidly　through　the　dripping　leaves　towards　the　foot　of
the　low　mountain　that　rose　behind　the　hotel。　　A　trail　went　up　there
to　the　top；　and　he　struck　into　it；　going　at　a　great　pace。　　His
sense　of　injury　began　dying　away；　he　no　longer　wanted　to　be　ill。
The　rain　had　stopped；　the　sun　came　out；　he　went　on；　up　and　up。　　He
would　get　to　the　top　quicker　than　anyone　ever　had！　　It　was
something　he　could　do　better　than　that　young　beast。　　The　pine…trees
gave　way　to　stunted　larches；　and　these　to　pine　scrub　and　bare
scree；　up　which　he　scrambled；　clutching　at　the　tough　bushes；
terribly　out　of　breath；　his　heart　pumping；　the　sweat　streaming　into
his　eyes。　　He　had　no　feeling　now　but　wonder　whether　he　would　get　to
the　top　before　he　dropped；　exhausted。　　He　thought　he　would　die　of
the　beating　of　his　heart；　but　it　was　better　to　die　than　to　stop　and
be　beaten　by　a　few　yards。　　He　stumbled　up　at　last　on　to　the　little
plateau　at　the　top。　　For　full　ten　minutes　he　lay　there　on　his　face
without　moving；　then　rolled　over。　　His　heart　had　given　up　that
terrific　thumping；　he　breathed　luxuriously；　stretched　out　his　arms
along　the　steaming　grassfelt　happy。　　It　was　wonderful　up　here；
with　the　sun　burning　hot　in　a　sky　clear…blue　already。　　How　tiny
everything　looked　belowhotel；　trees；　village；　chaletslittle　toy
things！　　He　had　never　before　felt　the　sheer　joy　of　being　high　up。
The　rain…clouds；　torn　and　driven　in　huge　white　shapes　along　the
mountains　to　the　South；　were　like　an　army　of　giants　with　chariots
and　white　horses　hurrying　away。　　He　thought　suddenly：　〃Suppose　I
had　died　when　my　heart　pumped　so！　　Would　it　have　mattered　the　least
bit？　　Everything　would　be　going　on　just　the　same；　the　sun　shining；
the　blue　up　there　the　same；　and　those　toy　things　down　in　the
valley。〃　　That　jealousy　of　his　an　hour　ago；　whyit　was　nothinghe
himself　nothing！　　What　did　it　matter　if　she　were　nice　to　that
fellow　in　the　brown　coat？　　What　did　anything　matter　when　the　whole
thing　was　so　bigand　he　such　a　tiny　scrap　of　it？

On　the　edge　of　the　plateau；　to　mark　the　highest　point；　someone　had
erected　a　rude　cross；　which　jutted　out　stark　against　the　blue　sky。
It　looked　cruel　somehow；　sagged　all　crooked；　and　out　of　place　up
here；　a　piece　of　bad　manners