The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第42部分

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And　when　he　came　home　at　night；　his　heart　relenting　and
growing　hot　for　love　of　her；　when　he　was　just　ready　to　feel　he
had　been　wrong；　and　when　he　was　expecting　her　to　feel　the　same；
there　she　sat　at　the　sewingmachine；　the　whole　house　was　covered
with　clipped　calico；　the　kettle　was　not　even　on　the　fire。

She　started　up；　affecting　concern。

〃Is　it　so　late？〃　she　cried。

But　his　face　had　gone　stiff　with　rage。　He　walked　through　to
the　parlour；　then　he　walked　back　and　out　of　the　house　again。　Her
heart　sank。　Very　swiftly　she　began　to　make　his　tea。

He　went　blackhearted　down　the　road　to　Ilkeston。　When　he　was
in　this　state　he　never　thought。　A　bolt　shot　across　the　doors　of
his　mind　and　shut　him　in；　a　prisoner。　He　went　back　to　Ilkeston；
and　drank　a　glass　of　beer。　What　was　he　going　to　do？　He　did　not
want　to　see　anybody。

He　would　go　to　Nottingham；　to　his　own　town。　He　went　to　the
station　and　took　a　train。　When　he　got　to　Nottingham；　still　he
had　nowhere　to　go。　However；　it　was　more　agreeable　to　walk
familiar　streets。　He　paced　them　with　a　mad　restlessness；　as　if
he　were　running　amok。　Then　he　turned　to　a　bookshop　and　found　a
book　on　Bamberg　Cathedral。　Here　was　a　discovery！　here　was
something　for　him！　He　went　into　a　quiet　restaurant　to　look　at
his　treasure。　He　lit　up　with　thrills　of　bliss　as　he　turned　from
picture　to　picture。　He　had　found　something　at　last；　in　these
carvings。　His　soul　had　great　satisfaction。　Had　he　not　e　out
to　seek；　and　had　he　not　found！　He　was　in　a　passion　of
fulfilment。　These　were　the　finest　carvings；　statues；　he　had　ever
seen。　The　book　lay　in　his　hands　like　a　doorway。　The　world　around
was　only　an　enclosure；　a　room。　But　he　was　going　away。　He
lingered　over　the　lovely　statues　of　women。　A　marvellous；
finelywrought　universe　crystallized　out　around　him　as　he　looked
again；　at　the　crowns；　the　twining　hair；　the　womanfaces。　He
liked　all　the　better　the　unintelligible　text　of　the　German。　He
preferred　things　he　could　not　understand　with　the　mind。　He　loved
the　undiscovered　and　the　undiscoverable。　He　pored　over　the
pictures　intensely。　And　these　were　wooden　statues；
〃Holz〃he　believed　that　meant　wood。　Wooden　statues　so
shapen　to　his　soul！　He　was　a　million　times　gladdened。　How
undiscovered　the　world　was；　how　it　revealed　itself　to　his　soul！
What　a　fine；　exciting　thing　his　life　was；　at　his　hand！　Did　not
Bamberg　Cathedral　make　the　world　his　own？　He　celebrated　his
triumphant　strength　and　life　and　verity；　and　embraced　the　vast
riches　he　was　inheriting。

But　it　was　about　time　to　go　home。　He　had　better　catch　a
train。　All　the　time　there　was　a　steady　bruise　at　the　bottom　of
his　soul；　but　so　steady　as　to　be　fettable。　He　caught　a　train
for　Ilkeston。

It　was　ten　o'clock　as　he　was　mounting　the　hill　to　Cossethay；
carrying　his　limp　book　on　Bamberg　Cathedral。　He　had　not　yet
thought　of　Anna；　not　definitely。　The　dark　finger　pressing　a
bruise　controlled　him　thoughtlessly。

Anna　had　started　guiltily　when　he　left　the　house。　She　had
hastened　preparing　the　tea；　hoping　he　would　e　back。　She　had
made　some　toast；　and　got　all　ready。　Then　he　didn't　e。　She
cried　with　vexation　and　disappointment。　Why　had　he　gone？　Why
couldn't　he　e　back　now？　Why　was　it　such　a　battle　between
them？　She　loved　himshe　did　love　himwhy　couldn't　he
be　kinder　to　her；　nicer　to　her？

She　waited　in　distressthen　her　mood　grew　harder。　He
passed　out　of　her　thoughts。　She　had　considered　indignantly；　what
right　he　had　to　interfere　with　her　sewing？　She　had　indignantly
refuted　his　right　to　interfere　with　her　at　all。　She　was　not　to
be　interfered　with。　Was　she　not　herself；　and　he　the
outsider。

Yet　a　quiver　of　fear　went　through　her。　If　he　should　leave
her？　She　sat　conjuring　fears　and　sufferings；　till　she　wept　with
very　selfpity。　She　did　not　know　what　she　would　do　if　he　left
her；　or　if　he　turned　against　her。　The　thought　of　it　chilled　her；
made　her　desolate　and　hard。　And　against　him；　the　stranger；　the
outsider；　the　being　who　wanted　to　arrogate　authority；　she
remained　steadily　fortified。　Was　she　not　herself？　How　could　one
who　was　not　of　her　own　kind　presume　with　authority？　She　knew　she
was　immutable；　unchangeable；　she　was　not　afraid　for　her　own
being。　She　was　only　afraid　of　all　that　was　not　herself。　It
pressed　round　her；　it　came　to　her　and　took　part　in　her；　in　form
of　her　man；　this　vast；　resounding；　alien　world　which　was　not
herself。　And　he　had　so　many　weapons；　he　might　strike　from　so
many　sides。

When　he　came　in　at　the　door；　his　heart　was　blazed　with　pity
and　tenderness；　she　looked　so　lost　and　forlorn　and　young。　She
glanced　up；　afraid。　And　she　was　surprised　to　see　him；
shiningfaced；　clear　and　beautiful　in　his　movements；　as　if　he
were　clarified。　And　a　startled　pang　of　fear；　and　shame　of
herself　went　through　her。

They　waited　for　each　other　to　speak。

〃Do　you　want　to　eat　anything？〃　she　said。

〃I'll　get　it　myself；〃　he　answered；　not　wanting　her　to　serve
him。　But　she　brought　out　food。　And　it　pleased　him　she　did　it　for
him。　He　was　again　a　bright　lord。

〃I　went　to　Nottingham；〃　he　said　mildly。

〃To　your　mother？〃　she　asked；　in　a　flash　of　contempt。

〃NoI　didn't　go　home。〃

〃Who　did　you　go　to　see？〃

〃I　went　to　see　nobody。〃

〃Then　why　did　you　go　to　Nottingham？〃

〃I　went　because　I　wanted　to　go。〃

He　was　getting　angry　that　she　again　rebuffed　him　when　he　was
so　clear　and　shining。

〃And　who　did　you　see？〃

〃I　saw　nobody。〃

〃Nobody？〃

〃Nowho　should　I　see？〃

〃You　saw　nobody　you　knew？〃

〃No；　I　didn't；〃　he　replied　irritably。

She　believed　him；　and　her　mood　became　cold。

〃I　bought　a　book；〃　he　said；　handing　her　the　propitiatory
volume。

She　idly　looked　at　the　pictures。　Beautiful；　the　pure　women；
with　their　cleardropping　gowns。　Her　heart　became　colder。　What
did　they　mean　to　him？

He　sat　and　waited　for　her。　She　bent　over　the　book。

〃Aren't　they　nice？〃　he　said；　his　voice　roused　and　glad。　Her
blood　flushed；　but　she　did　not　lift　her　head。

〃Yes；〃　she　said。　In　spite　of　herself；　she　was　pelled　by
him。　He　was　strange；　attractive；　exerting　some　power　over
her。

He　came　over　to　her；　and　touched　her　delicately。　Her　heart
beat　with　wild　passion；　wild　raging　passion。　But　she　resisted　as
yet。　It　was　always　the　unknown；　always　the　unknown；　and　she
clung　fiercely　to　her　known　self。　But　the　rising　flood　carried
her　away。

They　loved　each　other　to　transport　again；　passionately　and
fully。

〃Isn't　it　more　wonderful　than　ever？〃　she　asked　him；　radiant
like　a　newly　opened　flower；　with　tears　like　dew。

He　held　her　closer。　He　was　strange　and　abstracted。

〃It　is　always　more　wonderful；〃　she　asseverated；　in　a　glad；
child's　voice；　remembering　her　fear；　and　not　quite　cleared　of　it
yet。

So　it　went　on　continually；　the　recurrence　of　love　and
conflict　between　them。　One　day　it　seemed　as　if　everything　was
shattered；　all　life　spoiled；　ruined；　desolate　and　laid　waste。
The　next　day　it　was　all　marvellous　again；　just　marvellous。　One
day　she　thought　she　would　go　mad　from　his　very　presence；　the
sound　of　his　drinking　was　detestable　to　her。　The　next　day　she
loved　and　rejoiced　in　the　way　he　crossed　the　floor；　he　was　sun；
moon　and　stars　in　one。

She　fretted；　however；　at　last；　over　the　lack　of　stability。
When　the　perfect　hours　came　back；　her　heart　did　not　fet　that
they　would　pass　away　again。　She　was　uneasy。　The　surety；　the
surety；　the　inner　surety；　the　confidence　in　the　abidingness　of
love：　that　was　what　she　wanted。　And　that　she　did　not　get。　She
knew　also　that　he　had　not　got　it。

Nevertheless　it　was　a　marvellous　world；　she　was　for　the　most
part　lost　in　the　marvellousness　of　it。　Even　her　great　woes　were
marvellous　to　her。

She　could　be　very　happy。　And　she　wanted　to　be　happy。　She
resented　it　when　he　made　her　unhappy。　Then　she　could　kill　him；
cast　him　out。　Many　days；　she　waited　for　the　hour　when　he　would
be　gone　to　work。　Then　the　flow　of　her　life；　which　he　seemed　to
damn　up；　was　let　loose；　and　she　was　free。　She　was　free；　she　was
full　of　delight。　Everything　delighted　her。　She　took　up　the　rug
and　went　to　shake　it　in　the　garden。　Patches　of　snow　were　on　the
fields；　the　air　was　light。　She　heard　the　ducks　shouting　on　the
pond；　she　saw　them　charge　and　sail　across　the　water　as　if　they
were　setting　off　on