the dark flower-第24章

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sympathetic；　and　the　old　official　too　drowsy；　to　come。　　Then　it　all
narrowed　to　one　fierce；　insistent　question：

〃What　is　itWHAT　is　it　you're　afraid　of？〃

But　to　that；　too；　he　got　only　the　one　mournful　answer；　paralyzing
in　its　fateful　monotony。

〃I　don't　knowI　can't　tell！〃

It　was　awful　to　go　on　thus　beating　against　this　uncanny；　dark；
shadowy　resistance；　these　unreal　doubts　and　dreads；　that　by　their
very　dumbness　were　becoming　real　to　him；　too。　　If　only　she　could
tell　him　what　she　feared！　　It　could　not　be　povertythat　was　not
like　herbesides；　he　had　enough　for　both。　　It　could　not　be　loss　of
a　social　position；　which　was　but　irksome　to　her！　　Surely　it　was　not
fear　that　he　would　cease　to　love　her！　　What　was　it？　　In　God's　name
what？

To…morrowshe　had　told　himshe　was　to　go　down；　alone；　to　the
river…house；　would　she　not　come　now；　this　very　minute；　to　him
instead？　　And　they　would　start　offthat　night；　back　to　the　South
where　their　love　had　flowered。　　But　again　it　was：　〃I　can't！　　I
don't　knowI　must　have　time！〃　　And　yet　her　eyes　had　that　brooding
love…light。　　How　COULD　she　hold　back　and　waver？　　But；　utterly
exhausted；　he　did　not　plead　again；　did　not　even　resist　when　she
said：　〃You　must　go；　now；　and　leave　me　to　get　back！　　I　will　write。
PerhapssoonI　shall　know。〃　　He　begged　for；　and　took　one　kiss；
then；　passing　the　old　official；　went　quickly　up　and　out。


XV


He　reached　his　rooms　overcome　by　a　lassitude　that　was　not；　however；
quite　despair。　　He　had　made　his　effort；　failedbut　there　was　still
within　him　the　unconquerable　hope　of　the　passionate　lover。　。　。　。
As　well　try　to　extinguish　in　full　June　the　beating　of　the　heart　of
summer；　deny　to　the　flowers　their　deepening　hues；　or　to　winged　life
its　slumbrous　buzzing；　as　stifle　in　such　a　lover　his　conviction　of
fulfilment。　。　。　。

He　lay　down　on　a　couch；　and　there　stayed　a　long　time　quite　still；
his　forehead　pressed　against　the　wall。　　His　will　was　already
beginning　to　recover　for　a　fresh　attempt。　　It　was　merciful　that　she
was　going　away　from　Cramier；　going　to　where　he　had　in　fancy　watched
her　feed　her　doves。　　No　laws；　no　fears；　not　even　her　commands　could
stop　his　fancy　from　conjuring　her　up　by　day　and　night。　　He　had　but
to　close　his　eyes；　and　she　was　there。

A　ring　at　the　bell；　repeated　several　times；　roused　him　at　last　to
go　to　the　door。　　His　caller　was　Robert　Cramier。　　And　at　sight　of
him；　all　Lennan's　lethargy　gave　place　to　a　steely　feeling。　　What
had　brought　him　here？　　Had　he　been　spying　on　his　wife？　　The　old
longing　for　physical　combat　came　over　him。　　Cramier　was　perhaps
fifteen　years　his　senior；　but　taller；　heavier；　thicker。　　Chances；
then；　were　pretty　equal！

〃Won't　you　come　in？〃　he　said。

〃Thanks。〃

The　voice　had　in　it　the　same　mockery　as　on　Sunday；　and　it　shot
through　him　that　Cramier　had　thought　to　find　his　wife　here。　　If　so；
he　did　not　betray　it　by　any　crude　look　round。　　He　came　in　with　his
deliberate　step；　light　and　well…poised　for　so　big　a　man。

〃So　this；〃　he　said；　〃is　where　you　produce　your　masterpieces！
Anything　great　since　you　came　back？〃

Lennan　lifted　the　cloths　from　the　half…modelled　figure　of　his　bull…
man。　　He　felt　malicious　pleasure　in　doing　that。　　Would　Cramier
recognize　himself　in　this　creature　with　the　horn…like　ears；　and
great　bossed　forehead？　　If　this　man　who　had　her　happiness　beneath
his　heel　had　come　here　to　mock；　he　should　at　all　events　get　what　he
had　come　to　give。　　And　he　waited。

〃I　see。　　You　are　giving　the　poor　brute　horns！〃

If　Cramier　had　seen；　he　had　dared　to　add　a　touch　of　cynical　humour；
which　the　sculptor　himself　had　never　thought　of。　　And　this　even
evoked　in　the　young　man　a　kind　of　admiring　compunction。

〃Those　are　not　horns；〃　he　said　gently；　〃only　ears。〃

Cramier　lifted　a　hand　and　touched　the　edge　of　his　own　ear。

〃Not　quite　like　that；　are　theyhuman　ears？　　But　I　suppose　you
would　call　this　symbolic。　　What；　if　I　may　ask；　does　it　represent？〃

All　the　softness　in　Lennan　vanished。

〃If　you　can't　gather　that　from　looking；　it　must　be　a　failure。〃

〃Not　at　all。　　If　I　am　right；　you　want　something　for　it　to　tread　on；
don't　you；　to　get　your　full　effect？〃

Lennan　touched　the　base　of　the　clay。

〃The　broken　curve　here〃then；　with　sudden　disgust　at　this　fencing；
was　silent。　　What　had　the　man　come　for？　　He　must　want　something。
And；　as　if　answering；　Cramier　said：

〃To　pass　to　another　subjectyou　see　a　good　deal　of　my　wife。　　I
just　wanted　to　tell　you　that　I　don't　very　much　care　that　you
should。　　It　is　as　well　to　be　quite　frank；　I　think。〃

Lennan　bowed。

〃Is　that　not；〃　he　said；　〃perhaps　rather　a　matter　for　HER　decision？〃

That　heavy　figurethose　threatening　eyes！　　The　whole　thing　was
like　a　dream　come　true！

〃I　do　not　feel　it　so。　　I　am　not　one　of　those　who　let　things　drift。
Please　understand　me。　　You　come　between　us　at　your　peril。〃

Lennan　kept　silence　for　a　moment；　then　he　said　quietly：

〃Can　one　come　between　two　people　who　have　ceased　to　have　anything
in　common？〃

The　veins　in　Cramier's　forehead　were　swollen；　his　face　and　neck　had
grown　crimson。　　And　Lennan　thought　with　strange　elation：　Now　he's
going　to　hit　me！　　He　could　hardly　keep　his　hands　from　shooting　out
and　seizing　in　advance　that　great　strong　neck。　　If　he　could
strangle；　and　have　done　with　him！

But；　quite　suddenly；　Cramier　turned　on　his　heel。　　〃I　have　warned
you；〃　he　said；　and　went。

Lennan　took　a　long　breath。　　So！　　That　was　over；　and　he　knew　where
he　was。　　If　Cramier　had　struck　out；　he　would　surely　have　seized　his
neck　and　held　on　till　life　was　gone。　　Nothing　should　have　shaken
him　off。　　In　fancy　he　could　see　himself　swaying；　writhing；　reeling；
battered　about　by　those　heavy　fists；　but　always　with　his　hands　on
the　thick　neck；　squeezing　out　its　life。　　He　could　feel；　absolutely
feel；　the　last　reel　and　stagger　of　that　great　bulk　crashing　down；
dragging　him　with　it；　till　it　lay　upturned；　still。　　He　covered　his
eyes　with　his　hands。　。　。　。　　Thank　God！　　The　fellow　had　not　hit　out！

He　went　to　the　door；　opened　it；　and　stood　leaning　against　the　door…
post。　　All　was　still　and　drowsy　out　there　in　that　quiet　backwater
of　a　street。　　Not　a　soul　in　sight！　　How　still；　for　London！　　Only
the　birds。　　In　a　neighbouring　studio　someone　was　playing　Chopin。
Queer！　　He　had　almost　forgotten　there　was　such　a　thing　as　Chopin。
A　mazurka！　　Spinning　like　some　top　thing；　round　and　roundweird
little　tune！　。　。　。　　Well；　and　what　now？　　Only　one　thing　certain。
Sooner　give　up　life　than　give　her　up！　　Far　sooner！　　Love　her；
achieve　heror　give　up　everything；　and　drown　to　that　tune　going　on
and　on；　that　little　dancing　dirge　of　summer！


XVI


At　her　cottage　Olive　stood　often　by　the　river。

What　lay　beneath　all　that　bright　waterwhat　strange；　deep；
swaying；　life　so　far　below　the　ruffling　of　wind；　and　the　shadows　of
the　willow　trees？　　Was　love　down　there；　too？　　Love　between　sentient
things；　where　it　was　almost　dark；　or　had　all　passion　climbed　up　to
rustle　with　the　reeds；　and　float　with　the　water…flowers　in　the
sunlight？　　Was　there　colour？　　Or　had　colour　been　drowned？　　No　scent
and　no　music；　but　movement　there　would　be；　for　all　the　dim　groping
things　bending　one　way　to　the　currentmovement；　no　less　than　in
the　aspen…leaves；　never　quite　still；　and　the　winged　droves　of　the
clouds。　　And　if　it　were　dark　down　there；　it　was　dark；　too；　above
the　water；　and　hearts　ached；　and　eyes　just　as　much　searched　for
that　which　did　not　come。

To　watch　it　always　flowing　by　to　the　sea；　never　looking　back；　never
swaying　this　way　or　that；　drifting　along；　quiet　as　Fatedark；　or
glamorous　with　the　gold　and　moonlight　of　these　beautiful　days　and
nights；　when　every　flower　in　her　garden；　in　the　fields；　and　along
the　river　banks；　was　full　of　sweet　life；　when　dog…roses　starred　the
lanes；　and　in　the　wood　the　bracken　was　nearly　a　foot　high。

She　was　not　alone　there；　though　she　would　much　rather　have　been；
two　days　after　she　left　London　her　Uncle　and　Aunt　had　joined　her。
It　was　from　Cramier　they　had　received　their　invitation。　　He　himself
had　not　yet　been　down。

Every　night；　having　parted　from　Mrs。　Ercott　and　gone　up　the　wide
shallow　stairs　to　her　room；　she　would　sit　down　at　the　window　to
write　to　Lennan；　one　candle　beside　herone　pale　flame　for　comrade；
as　it　might　be　his　spirit。　　Every　evening　she　poured　out　to　him　her
thoughts；　and　ended　always：　〃Have　patience！〃　　She　was　still　waiting
for　courage　to　pass　that　dark　hedge　of　impalpable　doubts　and　fears
and　scruples；　of　a　dread　that　she　could　not　make　articulate　even　to
herself。　　Having　finished；　she　would　lean　out　into　the　night。　　The
Colonel；　his　black　figure　cloaked　against　the　dew；　would　be　pacing
up　and　down　the　lawn；　with　his　good…night　cigar；　whose　fiery　spark
she　could　just　discern；　and；　beyond；　her　ghostly　dove…house；　and；
beyond；　the　riverflowing。　　Then　she　would　clasp　herself　close
afraid　to　stretch　out　her　arms；　lest　she　should　be　seen。

Each　morning　she　rose　early；　dressed；　and　slipped　away　to　the
village　to　post　her　letter。　　From　the　woods　across　the　river　wild
pigeons　would　be　callingas　though　Love　itself　pleaded　with　her
afresh　each　day。　　She　was　back　well　before　breakfast；　to　go　up　to
her　room　and　come　down　again　as　if　for　the　first　time。　　The
Colonel；　meeting　her　on　the　stairs；　or　in　the　hall；　would　say：　〃Ah；
my　dear！　just　beaten　you！　　Slept　well？〃　　And；　while　her　lips
touched　his　cheek；　slanted　at　the　proper　angle　for　uncles；　he　never
dreamed　that　she　had　been　three　miles　already　through　the　dew。

Now　that　she　was　in　the　throes　of　an　indecision；　whose　ending；　one
way　or　the　other；　must　be　so　tremendous；　now　that　she　was　in　the
very　swirl；　she　let　no　sign　at　all　escape　her；　the　Colonel　and　even
his　wife　were　deceived　into　thinking　that　after　all　no　great　harm
had　been　done。　　It　was　grateful　to　them　to　think　so；　because　of
that　stewardship　at　Monte　Carlo；　of　which　they　could　not　render　too
good　account。　　The　warm　sleepy　days；　with　a　little　croquet　and　a
little　paddling　on　the　river；　and　much　sitting　out　of　doors；　when
the　Colonel　would　read　aloud　from　Tennyson；　were　very　pleasant。　　To
himif　not　to　Mrs。　Ercottit　was　especially　jolly　to　be　out　of
Town　'this　confounded　crowded　time　of　year。'　　And　so　the　days　of
early　June　went　by；　each　finer　than　the　last。

And　then　Cramier　came　down；　without　warning　on　a　Friday　evening。
It　was　hot　in　London　。　。　。　the　session　dull。　。　。　。　　The　Jubilee
turning　everything　upside　down。　。　。　。　　They　were　lucky　to　be　out　of
Town！

A　silent　dinnerthat！

Mrs。　Ercott　noticed　that　he　drank　wine　like　water；　and　for　minutes
at　a　time　fixed　his　eyes；　that　looked　heavy　as　if　he　had　not　been
sleeping；　not　on　his　wife's　face　but　on　her　neck。　　If　Olive　really
disliked　and　feared　himas　John　would　have　itshe　disguised　her
feelings　very　well！　　For　so　pale　a　woman　she　was　looking　brilliant
that　night。　　The　sun　had　caught　her　cheeks；　perhaps。　　That　black
low…cut　frock　suited　her；　with　old　Milanese…point　lace　matching　her
skin　so　well；　and　one　carnation；　of　darkest　red；　at　her　breast。
Her　eyes　were　really　sometimes　like　black　velvet。　　It　suited　pale
women　to　have　those　eyes；　that　looked　so　black　at　night！　　She　was
talking；　too；　and　laughing　more　than　usual。　　One　would　have　said：　A
wife　delighted　to　welcome　her　h