The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第123部分

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and　fulfilled；　his　veins　plete　with　satisfaction；　he　was
happy；　finished。

Again　she　went　home。　But　this　time　he　went　with　her。　He
wanted　to　stay　by　her。　He　wanted　her　to　marry　him。　It　was
already　July。　In　early　September　he　must　sail　for　India。　He
could　not　bear　to　think　of　going　alone。　She　must　e　with　him。
Nervously；　he　kept　beside　her。

Her　examination　was　finished；　her　college　career　was　over。
There　remained　for　her　now　to　marry　or　to　work　again。　She
applied　for　no　post。　It　was　concluded　she　would　marry。　India
tempted　herthe　strange；　strange　land。　But　with　the
thought　of　Calcutta；　or　Bombay；　or　of　Simla；　and　of　the　European
population；　India　was　no　more　attractive　to　her　than
Nottingham。

She　had　failed　in　her　examination：　she　had　gone　down：　she　had
not　taken　her　degree。　It　was　a　blow　to　her。　It　hardened　her
soul。

〃It　doesn't　matter；〃　he　said。　〃What　are　the　odds；　whether　you
are　a　Bachelor　of　Arts　or　not；　according　to　the　London
University？　All　you　know；　you　know；　and　if　you　are　Mrs。
Skrebensky；　the　B。A。　is　meaningless。〃

Instead　of　consoling　her；　this　made　her　harder；　more
ruthless。　She　was　now　up　against　her　own　fate。　It　was　for　her　to
choose　between　being　Mrs。　Skrebensky；　even　Baroness　Skrebensky；
wife　of　a　lieutenant　in　the　Royal　Engineers；　the　Sappers；　as　he
called　them；　living　with　the　European　population　in
Indiaor　being　Ursula　Brangwen；　spinster；　schoolmistress。
She　was　qualified　by　her　Intermediate　Arts　examination。　She
would　probably　even　now　get　a　post　quite　easily　as　assistant　in
one　of　the　higher　grade　schools；　or　even　in　Willey　Green　School。
Which　was　she　to　do？

She　hated　most　of　all　entering　the　bondage　of　teaching　once
more。　Very　heartily　she　detested　it。　Yet　at　the　thought　of
marriage　and　living　with　Skrebensky　amid　the　European　population
in　India；　her　soul　was　locked　and　would　not　budge。　She　had　very
little　feeling　about　it：　only　there　was　a　deadlock。

Skrebensky　waited；　she　waited；　everybody　waited　for　the
decision。　When　Anton　talked　to　her；　and　seemed　insidiously　to
suggest　himself　as　a　husband　to　her；　she　knew　how　utterly　locked
out　he　was。　On　the　other　hand；　when　she　saw　Dorothy；　and
discussed　the　matter；　she　felt　she　would　marry　him　promptly；　at
once；　as　a　sharp　disavowal　of　adherence　with　Dorothy's
views。

The　situation　was　almost　ridiculous。

〃But　do　you　love　him？〃　asked　Dorothy。

〃It　isn't　a　question　of　loving　him；〃　said　Ursula。　〃I　love　him
well　enoughcertainly　more　than　I　love　anybody　else　in　the
world。　And　I　shall　never　love　anybody　else　the　same　again。　We
have　had　the　flower　of　each　other。　But　I　don't　care　about　love。
I　don't　value　it。　I　don't　care　whether　I　love　or　whether　I
don't；　whether　I　have　love　or　whether　I　haven't。　What　is　it　to
me？〃

And　she　shrugged　her　shoulders　in　fierce；　angry　contempt。

Dorothy　pondered；　rather　angry　and　afraid。

〃Then　what　do　you　care　about？〃　she　asked；
exasperated。

〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Ursula。　〃But　something　impersonal。
Lovelovelovewhat　does　it　meanwhat
does　it　amount　to？　So　much　personal　gratification。　It　doesn't
lead　anywhere。〃

〃It　isn't　supposed　to　lead　anywhere；　is　it？〃　said　Dorothy；
satirically。　〃I　thought　it　was　the　one　thing　which　is　an　end　in
itself。〃

〃Then　what　does　it　matter　to　me？〃　cried　Ursula。　〃As　an　end　in
itself；　I　could　love　a　hundred　men；　one　after　the　other。　Why
should　I　end　with　a　Skrebensky？　Why　should　I　not　go　on；　and　love
all　the　types　I　fancy；　one　after　another；　if　love　is　an　end　in
itself？　There　are　plenty　of　men　who　aren't　Anton；　whom　I　could
lovewhom　I　would　like　to　love。〃

〃Then　you　don't　love　him；〃　said　Dorothy。

〃I　tell　you　I　do；quite　as　much；　and　perhaps　more　than
I　should　love　any　of　the　others。　Only　there　are　plenty　of　things
that　aren't　in　Anton　that　I　would　love　in　the　other　men。〃

〃What；　for　instance？〃

〃It　doesn't　matter。　But　a　sort　of　strong　understanding；　in
some　men；　and　then　a　dignity；　a　directness；　something
unquestioned　that　there　is　in　working　men；　and　then　a　jolly；
reckless　passionateness　that　you　seea　man　who　could
really　let　go〃

Dorothy　could　feel　that　Ursula　was　already　hankering　after
something　else；　something　that　this　man　did　not　give　her。

〃The　question　is；　what　do　you　want；〃　propounded
Dorothy。　〃Is　it　just　other　men？〃

Ursula　was　silenced。　This　was　her　own　dread。　Was　she　just
promiscuous？

〃Because　if　it　is；〃　continued　Dorothy；　〃you'd　better　marry
Anton。　The　other　can　only　end　badly。〃

So　out　of　fear　of　herself　Ursula　was　to　marry　Skrebensky。

He　was　very　busy　now；　preparing　to　go　to　India。　He　must　visit
relatives　and　contract　business。　He　was　almost　sure　of　Ursula
now。　She　seemed　to　have　given　in。　And　he　seemed　to　bee　again
an　important；　selfassured　man。

It　was　the　first　week　in　August；　and　he　was　one　of　a　large
party　in　a　bungalow　on　the　Lincolnshire　coast。　It　was　a　tennis；
golf；　motorcar；　motorboat　party；　given　by　his　greataunt；　a
lady　of　social　pretensions。　Ursula　was　invited　to　spend　the　week
with　the　party。

She　went　rather　reluctantly。　Her　marriage　was　more　or　less
fixed　for　the　twentyeighth　of　the　month。　They　were　to　sail　for
India　on　September　the　fifth。　One　thing　she　knew；　in　her
subconsciousness；　and　that　was；　she　would　never　sail　for
India。

She　and　Anton；　being　important　guests　on　account　of　the
ing　marriage；　had　rooms　in　the　large　bungalow。　It　was　a　big
place；　with　a　great　central　hall；　two　smaller　writingrooms；　and
then　two　corridors　from　which　opened　eight　or　nine　bedrooms。
Skrebensky　was　put　on　one　corridor；　Ursula　on　the　other。　They
felt　very　lost；　in　the　crowd。

Being　lovers；　however；　they　were　allowed　to　be　out　alone
together　as　much　as　they　liked。　Yet　she　felt　very　strange；　in
this　crowd　of　strange　people；　uneasy；　as　if　she　had　no　privacy。
She　was　not　used　to　these　homogeneous　crowds。　She　was
afraid。

She　felt　different　from　the　rest　of　them；　with　their　hard；
easy；　shallow　intimacy；　that　seemed　to　cost　them　so　little。　She
felt　she　was　not　pronounced　enough。　It　was　a　kind　of
holdyourown　unconventional　atmosphere。

She　did　not　like　it。　In　crowds；　in　assemblies　of　people；　she
liked　formality。　She　felt　she　did　not　produce　the　right　effect。
She　was　not　effective：　she　was　not　beautiful：　she　was　nothing。
Even　before　Skrebensky　she　felt　unimportant；　almost　inferior。　He
could　take　his　part　very　well　with　the　rest。

He　and　she　went　out　into　the　night。　There　was　a　moon　behind
clouds；　shedding　a　diffused　light；　gleaming　now　and　again　in
bits　of　smoky　motherofpearl。　So　they　walked　together　on　the
wet；　ribbed　sands　near　the　sea；　hearing　the　run　of　the　long；
heavy　waves；　that　made　a　ghostly　whiteness　and　a　whisper。

He　was　sure　of　himself。　As　she　walked；　the　soft　silk　of　her
dressshe　wore　a　blue　shantung；　fullskirtedblew
away　from　the　sea　and　flapped　and　clung　to　her　legs。　She　wished
it　would　not。　Everything　seemed　to　give　her　away；　and　she　could
not　rouse　herself　to　deny；　she　was　so　confused。

He　would　lead　her　away　to　a　pocket　in　the　sandhills；　secret
amid　the　grey　thornbushes　and　the　grey；　glassy　grass。　He　held
her　close　against　him；　felt　all　her　firm；　unutterably　desirable
mould　of　body　through　the　fine　fibre　of　the　silk　that　fell　about
her　limbs。　The　silk；　slipping　fierily　on　the　hidden；　yet
revealed　roundness　and　firmness　of　her　body；　her　loins；　seemed
to　run　in　him　like　fire；　make　his　brain　burn　like　brimstone。　She
liked　it；　the　electric　fire　of　the　silk　under　his　hands　upon　her
limbs；　the　fire　flew　over　her；　as　he　drew　nearer　and　nearer　to
discovery。　She　vibrated　like　a　jet　of　electric；　firm　fluid　in
response。　Yet　she　did　not　feel　beautiful。　All　the　time；　she　felt
she　was　not　beautiful　to　him；　only　exciting。　＇She　let　him　take　her；
and　he　seemed　mad；　mad　with　excited　passion。　But　she；　as　she　lay
afterwards　on　the　cold；　soft　sand；　looking　up　at　the　blotted；
faintly　luminous　sky；　felt　that　she　was　as　cold　now　as　she
had　been　before。　Yet　he；　breathing　heavily；　seemed　almost　savagely
satisfied。　He　seemed　revenged。

A　little　wind　wafted　the　sea　grass　and　passed　over　her　face。　Where　was　the
supreme　fulfilment　she　would　never　enjoy？　Why　was　she　so　cold；　so
unroused；　so　indifferent？

As　they　went　home；　and　she　saw　the　m