the new machiavelli-第66章

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scalpel。　　Her　talk　always　puts　me　in　mind　of　a　steel　blade。　　Her　

writing　became　rapidly　very　good；　she　had　a　wit　and　a　turn　of　the　

phrase　that　was　all　her　own。　　We　seemed　to　have　forgotten　the　little　

shadow　of　embarrassment　that　had　fallen　over　our　last　meeting　at　

Oxford。　　Everything　seemed　natural　and　easy　between　us　in　those　

days；　a　little　unconventional；　but　that　made　it　all　the　brighter。



We　developed　something　like　a　custom　of　walks；　about　once　a　week　or　

so；　and　letters　and　notes　became　frequent。　　I　won't　pretend　things　

were　not　keenly　personal　between　us；　but　they　had　an　air　of　being　

innocently　mental。　　She　used　to　call　me　〃Master〃　in　our　talks；　a　

monstrous　and　engaging　flattery；　and　I　was　inordinately　proud　to　

have　her　as　my　pupil。　　Who　wouldn't　have　been？　　And　we　went　on　at　

that　distance　for　a　long　timeuntil　within　a　year　of　the　Handitch　

election。



After　Lady　Colbeck　threw　her　up　as　altogether　too　〃intellectual〃　for　

comfortable　control；　Isabel　was　taken　up　by　the　Balfes　in　a　less　

formal　and　compromising　manner；　and　week…ended　with　them　and　their　

cousin　Leonora　Sparling；　and　spent　large　portions　of　her　summer　with　

them　in　Herefordshire。　　There　was　a　lover　or　so　in　that　time；　men　

who　came　a　little　timidly　at　this　brilliant　young　person　with　the　

frank　manner　and　the　Amazonian　mind；　and；　she　declared；　received　her　

kindly　refusals　with　manifest　relief。　　And　Arnold　Shoesmith　struck　

up　a　sort　of　friendship　that　oddly　imitated　mine。　　She　took　a　liking　

to　him　because　he　was　clumsy　and　shy　and　inexpressive；　she　embarked　

upon　the　dangerous　interest　of　helping　him　to　find　his　soul。　　I　had　

some　twinges　of　jealousy　about　that。　　I　didn't　see　the　necessity　of　

him。　　He　invaded　her　time；　and　I　thought　that　might　interfere　with　

her　work。　　If　their　friendship　stole　some　hours　from　Isabel's　

writing；　it　did　not　for　a　long　while　interfere　with　our　walks　or　our　

talks；　or　the　close　intimacy　we　had　together。







4





Then　suddenly　Isabel　and　I　found　ourselves　passionately　in　love。



The　change　came　so　entirely　without　warning　or　intention　that　I　find　

it　impossible　now　to　tell　the　order　of　its　phases。　　What　disturbed　

pebble　started　the　avalanche　I　cannot　trace。　　Perhaps　it　was　simply　

that　the　barriers　between　us　and　this　masked　aspect　of　life　had　been　

wearing　down　unperceived。



And　there　came　a　change　in　Isabel。　　It　was　like　some　change　in　the　

cycle　of　nature；　like　the　onset　of　springa　sharp　brightness；　an　

uneasiness。　　She　became　restless　with　her　work；　little　encounters　

with　men　began　to　happen；　encounters　not　quite　in　the　quality　of　the　

earlier　proposals；　and　then　came　an　odd　incident　of　which　she　told　

me；　but　somehow；　I　felt；　didn't　tell　me　completely。　　She　told　me　all　

she　was　able　to　tell　me。　　She　had　been　at　a　dance　at　the　Ropers'；　

and　a　man；　rather　well　known　in　London；　had　kissed　her。　　The　thing　

amazed　her　beyond　measure。　　It　was　the　sort　of　thing　immediately　

possible　between　any　man　and　any　woman；　that　one　never　expects　to　

happen　until　it　happens。　　It　had　the　surprising　effect　of　a　judge　

generally　known　to　be　bald　suddenly　whipping　off　his　wig　in　court。　　

No　absolutely　unexpected　revelation　could　have　quite　the　same　

quality　of　shock。　　She　went　through　the　whole　thing　to　me　with　a　

remarkable　detachment；　told　me　how　she　had　feltand　the　odd　things　

it　seemed　to　open　to　her。



〃I　WANT　to　be　kissed；　and　all　that　sort　of　thing；〃　she　avowed。　　〃I　

suppose　every　woman　does。〃



She　added　after　a　pause：　〃And　I　don't　want　any　one　to　do　it。〃



This　struck　me　as　queerly　expressive　of　the　woman's　attitude　to　

these　things。　　〃Some　one　presently　willsolve　that；〃　I　said。



〃Some　one　will　perhaps。〃



I　was　silent。



〃Some　one　will；〃　she　said；　almost　viciously。　　〃And　then　we'll　have　

to　stop　these　walks　and　talks　of　ours；　dear　Master。　。　。　。　　I'll　be　

sorry　to　give　them　up。〃



〃It's　part　of　the　requirements　of　the　situation；〃　I　said；　〃that　he　

should　beoh；　very　interesting！　　He'll　start；　no　doubt；　all　sorts　

of　new　topics；　and　open　no　end　of　attractive　vistas。　。　。　。　　You　

can't；　you　know；　always　go　about　in　a　state　of　pupillage。〃



〃I　don't　think　I　can；〃　said　Isabel。　　〃But　it's　only　just　recently　

I've　begun　to　doubt　about　it。〃



I　remember　these　things　being　said；　but　just　how　much　we　saw　and　

understood；　and　just　how　far　we　were　really　keeping　opaque　to　each　

other　then；　I　cannot　remember。　　But　it　must　have　been　quite　soon　

after　this　that　we　spent　nearly　a　whole　day　together　at　Kew　Gardens；　

with　the　curtains　up　and　the　barriers　down；　and　the　thing　that　had　

happened　plain　before　our　eyes。　　I　don't　remember　we　ever　made　any　

declaration。　　We　just　assumed　the　new　footing。　。　。　。



It　was　a　day　early　in　that　yearI　think　in　January；　because　there　

was　thin；　crisp　snow　on　the　grass；　and　we　noted　that　only　two　other　

people　had　been　to　the　Pagoda　that　day。　　I've　a　curious　impression　

of　greenish　colour；　hot；　moist　air　and　huge　palm　fronds　about　very　

much　of　our　talk；　as　though　we　were　nearly　all　the　time　in　the　

Tropical　House。　　But　I　also　remember　very　vividly　looking　at　certain　

orange　and　red　spray…like　flowers　from　Patagonia；　which　could　not　

have　been　there。　　It　is　a　curious　thing　that　I　do　not　remember　we　

made　any　profession　of　passionate　love　for　one　another；　we　talked　as　

though　the　fact　of　our　intense　love　for　each　other　had　always　been　

patent　between　us。　　There　was　so　long　and　frank　an　intimacy　between　

us　that　we　talked　far　more　like　brother　and　sister　or　husband　and　

wife　than　two　people　engaged　in　the　war　of　the　sexes。　　We　wanted　to　

know　what　we　were　going　to　do；　and　whatever　we　did　we　meant　to　do　in　

the　most　perfect　concert。　　We　both　felt　an　extraordinary　accession　

of　friendship　and　tenderness　then；　and；　what　again　is　curious；　very　

little　passion。　　But　there　was　also；　in　spite　of　the　perplexities　we　

faced；　an　immense　satisfaction　about　that　day。　　It　was　as　if　we　had　

taken　off　something　that　had　hindered　our　view　of　each　other；　like　

people　who　unvizard　to　talk　more　easily　at　a　masked　ball。



I've　had　since　to　view　our　relations　from　the　standpoint　of　the　

ordinary　observer。　　I　find　that　vision　in　the　most　preposterous　

contrast　with　all　that　really　went　on　between　us。　　I　suppose　there　I　

should　figure　as　a　wicked　seducer；　while　an　unprotected　girl　

succumbed　to　my　fascinations。　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　it　didn't　occur　

to　us　that　there　was　any　personal　inequality　between　us。　　I　knew　her　

for　my　equal　mentally；　in　so　many　things　she　was　beyond　comparison　

cleverer　than　I；　her　courage　outwent　mine。　　The　quick　leap　of　her　

mind　evoked　a　flash　of　joy　in　mine　like　the　response　of　an　induction　

wire；　her　way　of　thinking　was　like　watching　sunlight　reflected　from　

little　waves　upon　the　side　of　a　boat；　it　was　so　bright；　so　mobile；　

so　variously　and　easily　true　to　its　law。　　In　the　back　of　our　minds　

we　both　had　a　very　definite　belief　that　making　love　is　full　of　

joyous；　splendid；　tender；　and　exciting　possibilities；　and　we　had　to　

discuss　why　we　shouldn't　be　to　the　last　degree　lovers。



Now；　what　I　should　like　to　print　here；　if　it　were　possible；　in　all　

the　screaming　emphasis　of　red　ink；　is　this：　that　the　circumstances　

of　my　upbringing　and　the　circumstances　of　Isabel's　upbringing　had　

left　not　a　shadow　of　belief　or　feeling　that　the　utmost　passionate　

love　between　us　was　in　itself　intrinsically　WRONG。　　I've　told　with　

the　fullest　particularity　just　all　that　I　was　taught　or　found　out　

for　myself　in　these　matters；　and　Isabel's　reading　and　thinking；　and　

the　fierce　silences　of　her　governesses　and　the　breathless　warnings　

of　teachers；　and　all　the　social　and　religious　influences　that　had　

been　brought　to　bear　upon　her；　had　worked　out　to　the　same　void　of　

conviction。　　The　code　had　failed　with　us　altogether。　　We　didn't　for　

a　moment　consider　anything　but　the　expediency　of　what　we　both；　for　

all　our　quiet　faces　and　steady　eyes；　wanted　most　passionately　to　do。



Well；　here　you　have　the　state　of　mind　of　whole　brigades　of　people；　

and　particularly　of　young　people；　nowadays。　　The　current　morality　

hasn't　gripped　them；　they　don't　really　believe　in　it　at　all。　　They　

may　render　it　lip…service；　but　that　is　quite　another　thing。　　There　

are　scarcely　any　tolerable　novels　to　justify　its　prohibitions；　its　

prohibitions　do；　in　fact；　remain　unjustified　amongst　these　ugly　

suppressions。　　You　may；　if　you　choose；　silence　the　admission　of　this　

in　literature　and　current　discussion；　you　will　not　prevent　it　

working　out　in　lives。　　People　come　up　to　the　great　moments　of　

passion　crudely　unaware；　astoundingly　unprepared　as　no　really　

civilised　and　intelligently　planned　community　would　let　any　one　be　

unprepared。　　They　find　themselves　hedged　about　with　customs　that　

have　no　organic　hold　upon　them；　and　mere　discretions　all　generous　

spirits　are　disposed　to　despise。



Consider　the　infinite　absurdities　of　it！　　Multitudes　of　us　are　

trying　to　run　this　complex　modern　community　on　a　basis　of　〃Hush〃　

without　explaining　to　our　children　or　discussing　with　them　anything　

about　love　and　marriage　at　all。　　Doubt　and　knowledge　creep　about　in　

enforced　darknesses　and　silences。　　We　are　living　upon　an　ancient　

tradition　which　everybody　doubts　and　nobody　has　ever　analysed。　　We　

affect　a　tremendous　and　cultivated　shyness　and　delicacy　about　

imperatives　of　the　most　arbitrary　appearance。　　What　ensues？　　What　

did　ensue　with　us；　for　example？　　On　the　one　hand　was　a　great　desire；　

robbed　of　any　appearance　of　shame　and　grossness　by　the　power　of　

love；　and　on　the　other　hand；　the　possible　jealousy　of　so　and　so；　the　

disapproval　of　so　and　so；　material　risks　and　dangers。　　It　is　only　in　

the　retrospect　that　we　have　been　able　to　grasp　something　of　the　

effectual　case　against　us。　　The　social　prohibition　lit　by　the　

intense　glow　of　our　passion；　presented　itself　as　preposterous；　

irrational；　arbitrary；　and　ugly；　a　monster　fit　only　for　mockery。　　We　

might　be　ruined！　　Well；　there　is　a　phase　in　every　love　affair；　a　

sort　of　heroic　hysteria；　when　death　and　ruin　are　agreeable　additions　

to　the　prospect。　　It　gives　the　business　a　gravity；　a　solemnity。　　

Timid　people　may　hesitate　and　draw　back　with　a　vague　instinctive　

terror　of　the　immensity　of　the　oppositions　they　challenge；　but　

neither　Isabel　nor　I　are　timid　people。



We　weighed　what　was　against　us。　　We　decided　just　exactly　as　scores　

of　thousands　of　people　have　decided　in　this　very　matter；　that　if　it　

were　possible　to　keep　this　thing　to　ourselves；　there　was　nothing　

against　it。　　And　so　we　took　our　first　step。　　With　the　hunger　of　love　

in　us；　it　was　easy　to　conclude　we　might　be　lovers；　and　still　keep　

everything　to　ourselves。　　That　cleared　our　minds　of　the　one　

persistent　obstacle　that　mattered　to　usthe　haunting　presence　of　

Margaret。



And　then　we　found；　as　all　those　scores　of　thousands　of　people