the dark flower-第38章

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pass　his　lips；　though　he　knew　she　must　be　conscious　that　he　had　not
said　them；　must　be　longing　to　hear　them。　　All　he　had　been　able　to
say　was：

〃So　long　as　you　want　me；　you　shall　never　lose　me〃　。　。　。　and；　〃I
will　never　keep　anything　from　you　again。〃

Up　in　their　room　she　lay　hour　after　hour　in　his　arms；　quite
unresentful；　but　without　life　in　her；　and　with　eyes　that；　when　his
lips　touched　them；　were　always　wet。

What　a　maze　was　a　man's　heart；　wherein　he　must　lose　himself　every
minute！　　What　involved　and　intricate　turnings　and　turnings　on
itself；　what　fugitive　replacement　of　emotion　by　emotion！　　What
strife　between　pities　and　passions；　what　longing　for　peace！　。　。　。

And　in　his　feverish　exhaustion；　which　was　almost　sleep；　Lennan
hardly　knew　whether　it　was　the　thrum　of　music　or　Sylvia's　moaning
that　he　heard；　her　body　or　Nell's　within　his　arms。　。　。　。

But　life　had　to　be　lived；　a　face　preserved　against　the　world；
engagements　kept。　　And　the　nightmare　went　on　for　both　of　them；
under　the　calm　surface　of　an　ordinary　Sunday。　　They　were　like
people　walking　at　the　edge　of　a　high　cliff；　not　knowing　from　step
to　step　whether　they　would　fall；　or　like　swimmers　struggling　for
issue　out　of　a　dark　whirlpool。

In　the　afternoon　they　went　together　to　a　concert；　it　was　just
something　to　dosomething　that　saved　them　for　an　hour　or　two　from
the　possibility　of　speaking　on　the　one　subject　left　to　them。　　The
ship　had　gone　down；　and　they　were　clutching　at　anything　that　for　a
moment　would　help　to　keep　them　above　water。

In　the　evening　some　people　came　to　supper；　a　writer　and　two
painters；　with　their　wives。　　A　grim　eveningnever　more　so　than
when　the　conversation　turned　on　that　perennial　themethe　freedom；
spiritual；　mental；　physical；　requisite　for　those　who　practise　Art。
All　the　stale　arguments　were　brought　forth；　and　had　to　be　joined　in
with　unmoved　faces。　　And　for　all　their　talk　of　freedom；　Lennan
could　see　the　volte…face　his　friends　would　be　making；　if　they　only
knew。　　It　was　not　'the　thing'　to　seduce　young　girlsas　if；
forsooth；　there　were　freedom　in　doing　only　what　people　thought　'the
thing'！　　Their　cant　about　the　free　artist　spirit　experiencing
everything；　would　wither　the　moment　it　came　up　against　a　canon　of
'good　form；'　so　that　in　truth　it　was　no　freer　than　the　bourgeois
spirit；　with　its　conventions；　or　the　priest　spirit；　with　its　cry　of
'Sin！'　　No；　no！　　To　resistif　resistance　were　possible　to　this
dragging　powermaxims　of　'good　form；'　dogmas　of　religion　and
morality；　were　no　helpnothing　was　any　help；　but　some　feeling
stronger　than　passion　itself。　　Sylvia's　face；　forced　to　smile！
that；　indeed　was　a　reason　why　they　should　condemn　him！　　None　of
their　doctrines　about　freedom　could　explain　that　awaythe　harm；
the　death　that　came　to　a　man's　soul　when　he　made　a　loving；　faithful
creature　suffer。

But　they　were　gone　at　lastwith　their　〃Thanks　so　much！〃　and　their
〃Delightful　evening！〃

And　those　two　were　face　to　face　for　another　night。

He　knew　that　it　must　begin　all　over　againinevitable；　after　the
stab　of　that　wretched　argument　plunged　into　their　hearts　and　turned
and　turned　all　the　evening。

〃I　won't；　I　mustn't　keep　you　starved；　and　spoil　your　work。　　Don't
think　of　me；　Mark！　　I　can　bear　it！〃

And　then　a　breakdown　worse　than　the　night　before。　　What　genius；
what　sheer　genius　Nature　had　for　torturing　her　creatures！　　If
anyone　had　told　him；　even　so　little　as　a　week　ago；　that　he　could
have　caused　such　suffering　to　SylviaSylvia；　whom　as　a　child　with
wide　blue　eyes　and　a　blue　bow　on　her　flaxen　head　he　had　guarded
across　fields　full　of　imaginary　bulls；　Sylvia；　in　whose　hair　his
star　had　caught；　Sylvia；　who　day　and　night　for　fifteen　years　had
been　his　devoted　wife；　whom　he　loved　and　still　admiredhe　would
have　given　him　the　lie　direct。　　It　would　have　seemed　incredible；
monstrous；　silly。　　Had　all　married　men　and　women　such　things　to　go
throughwas　this　but　a　very　usual　crossing　of　the　desert？　　Or　was
it；　once　for　all；　shipwreck？　deathunholy；　violent　deathin　a
storm　of　sand？

Another　night　of　misery；　and　no　answer　to　that　question　yet。

He　had　told　her　that　he　would　not　see　Nell　again　without　first
letting　her　know。　　So；　when　morning　came；　he　simply　wrote　the
words：　〃Don't　come　today！〃showed　them　to　Sylvia；　and　sent　them　by
a　servant　to　Dromore's。

Hard　to　describe　the　bitterness　with　which　he　entered　his　studio
that　morning。　　In　all　this　chaos；　what　of　his　work？　　Could　he　ever
have　peace　of　mind　for　it　again？　　Those　people　last　night　had
talked　of　'inspiration　of　passion；　of　experience。'　　In　pleading
with　her　he　had　used　the　words　himself。　　Shepoor　soul！had　but
repeated　them；　trying　to　endure　them；　to　believe　them　true。　　And
were　they　true？　　Again　no　answer；　or　certainly　none　that　he　could
give。　　To　have　had　the　waters　broken　up；　to　be　plunged　into
emotion；　to　feel　desperately；　instead　of　stagnatingsome　day　he
might　be　gratefulwho　knew？　　Some　day　there　might　be　fair　country
again　beyond　this　desert；　where　he　could　work　even　better　than
before。　　But　just　now；　as　well　expect　creative　work　from　a
condemned　man。　　It　seemed　to　him　that　he　was　equally　destroyed
whether　he　gave　Nell　up；　and　with　her；　once　for　all；　that　roving；
seeking　instinct；　which　ought；　forsooth；　to　have　been　satisfied；
and　was　not；　or　whether　he　took　Nell；　knowing　that　in　doing　so　he
was　torturing　a　woman　dear　to　him！　　That　was　as　far　as　he　could　see
to…day。　　What　he　would　come　to　see　in　time　God　only　knew！　　But：
'Freedom　of　the　Spirit！'　　That　was　a　phrase　of　bitter　irony　indeed！
And；　there；　with　his　work　all　round　him；　like　a　man　tied　hand　and
foot；　he　was　swept　by　such　a　feeling　of　exasperated　rage　as　he　had
never　known。　　Women！　　These　women！　　Only　let　him　be　free　of　both；
of　all　women；　and　the　passions　and　pities　they　aroused；　so　that　his
brain　and　his　hands　might　live　and　work　again！　　They　should　not
strangle；　they　should　not　destroy　him！

Unfortunately；　even　in　his　rage；　he　knew　that　flight　from　them　both
could　never　help　him。　　One　way　or　the　other　the　thing　would　have　to
be　fought　through。　　If　it　had　been　a　straight　fight　even；　a　clear
issue　between　passion　and　pity！　　But　both　he　loved；　and　both　he
pitied。　　There　was　nothing　straight　and　clear　about　it　anywhere；　it
was　all　too　deeply　rooted　in　full　human　nature。　　And　the　appalling
sense　of　rushing　ceaselessly　from　barrier　to　barrier　began　really
to　affect　his　brain。

True；　he　had　now　and　then　a　lucid　interval　of　a　few　minutes；　when
the　ingenious　nature　of　his　own　torments　struck　him　as　supremely
interesting　and　queer；　but　this　was　not　precisely　a　relief；　for　it
only　meant；　as　in　prolonged　toothache；　that　his　power　of　feeling
had　for　a　moment　ceased。　　A　very　pretty　little　hell　indeed！

All　day　he　had　the　premonition；　amounting　to　certainty；　that　Nell
would　take　alarm　at　those　three　words　he　had　sent　her；　and　come　in
spite　of　them。　　And　yet；　what　else　could　he　have　written？　　Nothing
save　what　must　have　alarmed　her　more；　or　plunged　him　deeper。　　He
had　the　feeling　that　she　could　follow　his　moods；　that　her　eyes
could　see　him　everywhere；　as　a　cat's　eyes　can　see　in　darkness。
That　feeling　had　been　with　him；　more　or　less；　ever　since　the　last
evening　of　October；　the　evening　she　came　back　from　her　summer
grown…up。　　How　long　ago？　　Only　six　dayswas　it　possible？　　Ah；　yes！
She　knew　when　her　spell　was　weakening；　when　the　current　wanted；　as
it　were；　renewing。　　And　about　six　o'clockdusk　alreadywithout
the　least　surprise；　with　only　a　sort　of　empty　quivering；　he　heard
her　knock。　　And　just　behind　the　closed　door；　as　near　as　he　could
get　to　her；　he　stood；　holding　his　breath。　　He　had　given　his　word　to
Sylviaof　his　own　accord　had　given　it。　　Through　the　thin　wood　of
the　old　door　he　could　hear　the　faint　shuffle　of　her　feet　on　the
pavement；　moved　a　few　inches　this　way　and　that；　as　though
supplicating　the　inexorable　silence。　　He　seemed　to　see　her　head；
bent　a　little　forward　listening。　　Three　times　she　knocked；　and　each
time　Lennan　writhed。　　It　was　so　cruel！　　With　that　seeing…sense　of
hers　she　must　know　he　was　there；　his　very　silence　would　be　telling
herfor　his　silence　had　its　voice；　its　pitiful　breathless　sound。
Then；　quite　distinctly；　he　heard　her　sigh；　and　her　footsteps　move
away；　and　covering　his　face　with　his　hands　he　rushed　to　and　fro　in
the　studio；　like　a　madman。

No　sound　of　her　any　more！　　Gone！　　It　was　unbearable；　and；　seizing
his　hat；　he　ran　out。　　Which　way？　　At　random　he　ran　towards　the
Square。　　There　she　was；　over　by　the　railings；　languidly；
irresolutely　moving　towards　home。


XIV


But　now　that　she　was　within　reach；　he　wavered；　he　had　given　his
wordwas　he　going　to　break　it？　　Then　she　turned；　and　saw　him；　and
he　could　not　go　back。　　In　the　biting　easterly　wind　her　face　looked
small；　and　pinched；　and　cold；　but　her　eyes　only　the　larger；　the
more　full　of　witchery；　as　if　beseeching　him　not　to　be　angry；　not　to
send　her　away。

〃I　had　to　come；　I　got　frightened。　　Why　did　you　write　such　a　tiny
little　note？〃

He　tried　to　make　his　voice　sound　quiet　and　ordinary。

〃You　must　be　brave；　Nell。　　I　have　had　to　tell　her。〃

She　clutched　at　his　arm；　then　drew　herself　up；　and　said　in　her
clear；　clipped　voice：

〃Oh！　　I　suppose　she　hates　me；　then！〃

〃She　is　terribly　unhappy。〃

They　walked　a　minute；　that　might　have　been　an　hour；　without　a　word；
not　round　the　Square；　as　he　had　walked　with　Oliver；　but　away　from
the　house。　　At　last　she　said　in　a　half…choked　voice：　〃I　only　want　a
little　bit　of　you。〃

And　he　answered　dully：　〃In　love；　there　are　no　little　bitsno
standing　still。〃

Then；　suddenly；　he　felt　her　hand　in　his；　the　fingers　lacing；
twining　restlessly　amongst　his　own；　and　again　the　half…choked　voice
said：

〃But　you　WILL　let　me　see　you　sometimes！　　You　must！〃

Hardest　of　all　to　stand　against　was　this　pathetic；　clinging；
frightened　child。　　And；　not　knowing　very　clearly　what　he　said；　he
murmured：

〃Yesyes；　it'll　be　all　right。　　Be　braveyou　must　be　brave；　Nell。
It'll　all　come　right。〃

But　she　only　answered：

〃No；　no！　　I'm　not　brave。　　I　shall　do　something。〃

Her　face　looked　just　as　when　she　had　ridden　at　that　gravel　pit。
Loving；　wild；　undisciplined；　without　resource　of　any　kindwhat
might　she　not　do？　　Why　could　he　not　stir　without　bringing　disaster
upon　one　or　other？　　And　between　these　two；　suffering　so　because　of
him；　he　felt　as　if　he　had　lost　his　own　existence。　　In　quest　of
happiness；　he　had　come　to　that！

Suddenly　she　said：

〃Oliver　asked　me　again　at　the　dance　on　Saturday。　　He　said　you　had
told　him　to　be　patient。　　Did　you？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Why？〃

〃I　was　sorry　for　him。〃

She　let　his　hand　go。

〃Perhaps　you　would　like　me　to　marry　him。〃

Very　clearly　he　saw　those　two　going　round　and　round　over　the
shining　floor。

〃It　would　be　better；　Nell。〃

She　made　a　little　soundof　anger　or　dismay。

〃You　don't　REALLY　want　me；　then？〃

That　was　his　chance。　　But　with　her　arm　touching　his；　her　face　so
pale　and　desperate；　and　those　maddening　eyes　turned　to　him；　he
could　not　tell　that　lie；　and　answered：

〃YesI　want　you；　God　knows！〃

At　that　a　sigh　of　content　escaped　her；　as　if　she　were　saying　to
herself：　'If　he　wants　me　he　will　not　let　me　go。'　　Strange　little
tribute　to　her　faith　in　love　and　her　own　youth！