the garden party(园会)-第17章
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Jug？〃
〃Oh； eggs in various forms！〃 said Jug； lofty again。 〃And； besides；
there are all the cooked foods。〃
〃But I've always heard；〃 said Constantia； 〃they are considered so very
expensive。〃
〃Not if one buys them in moderation；〃 said Josephine。 But she tore
herself away from this fascinating bypath and dragged Constantia after
her。
〃What we've got to decide now； however； is whether we really do trust
Kate or not。〃
Constantia leaned back。 Her flat little laugh flew from her lips。
〃Isn't it curious； Jug；〃 said she； 〃that just on this one subject I've never
been able to quite make up my mind？〃
Chapter 3。XI。
She never had。 The whole difficulty was to prove anything。 How
did one prove things； how could one？ Suppose Kate had stood in front of
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her and deliberately made a face。 Mightn't she very well have been in
pain？ Wasn't it impossible； at any rate； to ask Kate if she was making a
face at her？ If Kate answered 〃No〃and； of course； she would say 〃No〃…
…what a position！ How undignified！ Then again Constantia suspected；
she was almost certain that Kate went to her chest of drawers when she
and Josephine were out； not to take things but to spy。 Many times she
had come back to find her amethyst cross in the most unlikely places；
under her lace ties or on top of her evening Bertha。 More than once she
had laid a trap for Kate。 She had arranged things in a special order and
then called Josephine to witness。
〃You see； Jug？〃
〃Quite； Con。〃
〃Now we shall be able to tell。〃
But； oh dear； when she did go to look； she was as far off from a proof
as ever！ If anything was displaced； it might so very well have happened
as she closed the drawer； a jolt might have done it so easily。
〃You come； Jug； and decide。 I really can't。 It's too difficult。〃
But after a pause and a long glare Josephine would sigh； 〃Now you've
put the doubt into my mind； Con； I'm sure I can't tell myself。〃
〃Well； we can't postpone it again；〃 said Josephine。 〃If we postpone it
this time〃
Chapter 3。XII。
But at that moment in the street below a barrel…organ struck up。
Josephine and Constantia sprang to their feet together。
〃Run； Con；〃 said Josephine。 〃Run quickly。 There's sixpence on the…
…〃
Then they remembered。 It didn't matter。 They would never have to
stop the organ…grinder again。 Never again would she and Constantia be
told to make that monkey take his noise somewhere else。 Never would
sound that loud； strange bellow when father thought they were not
hurrying enough。 The organ…grinder might play there all day and the
stick would not thump。
〃It never will thump again； It never will thump again；
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played the barrel…organ。
What was Constantia thinking？ She had such a strange smile； she
looked different。 She couldn't be going to cry。
〃Jug； Jug；〃 said Constantia softly； pressing her hands together。 〃Do
you know what day it is？ It's Saturday。 It's a week to…day； a whole
week。〃
〃A week since father died； A week since father died；〃
cried the barrel…organ。 And Josephine； too； forgot to be practical and
sensible； she smiled faintly； strangely。 On the Indian carpet there fell a
square of sunlight； pale red； it came and went and cameand stayed；
deepeneduntil it shone almost golden。
〃The sun's out；〃 said Josephine； as though it really mattered。
A perfect fountain of bubbling notes shook from the barrel…organ；
round； bright notes； carelessly scattered。
Constantia lifted her big； cold hands as if to catch them； and then her
hands fell again。 She walked over to the mantelpiece to her favourite
Buddha。 And the stone and gilt image； whose smile always gave her
such a queer feeling； almost a pain and yet a pleasant pain； seemed to…day
to be more than smiling。 He knew something； he had a secret。 〃I know
something that you don't know；〃 said her Buddha。 Oh； what was it； what
could it be？ And yet she had always felt there was。。。something。
The sunlight pressed through the windows； thieved its way in； flashed
its light over the furniture and the photographs。 Josephine watched it。
When it came to mother's photograph； the enlargement over the piano； it
lingered as though puzzled to find so little remained of mother； except the
earrings shaped like tiny pagodas and a black feather boa。 Why did the
photographs of dead people always fade so？ wondered Josephine。 As
soon as a person was dead their photograph died too。 But； of course； this
one of mother was very old。 It was thirty…five years old。 Josephine
remembered standing on a chair and pointing out that feather boa to
Constantia and telling her that it was a snake that had killed their mother
in Ceylon。。。Would everything have been different if mother hadn't died？
She didn't see why。 Aunt Florence had lived with them until they had left
school； and they had moved three times and had their yearly holiday
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and。。。and there'd been changes of servants； of course。
Some little sparrows； young sparrows they sounded； chirped on the
window… ledge。 〃Yeepeyeepyeep。〃 But Josephine felt they were not
sparrows； not on the window…ledge。 It was inside her； that queer little
crying noise。 〃Yeepeyeepyeep。〃 Ah； what was it crying； so weak
and forlorn？
If mother had lived； might they have married？ But there had been
nobody for them to marry。 There had been father's Anglo…Indian friends
before he quarrelled with them。 But after that she and Constantia never
met a single man except clergymen。 How did one meet men？ Or even
if they'd met them； how could they have got to know men well enough to
be more than strangers？ One read of people having adventures； being
followed； and so on。 But nobody had ever followed Constantia and her。
Oh yes； there had been one year at Eastbourne a mysterious man at their
boarding…house who had put a note on the jug of hot water outside their
bedroom door！ But by the time Connie had found it the steam had made
the writing too faint to read； they couldn't even make out to which of them
it was addressed。 And he had left next day。 And that was all。 The rest
had been looking after father； and at the same time keeping out of father's
way。 But now？ But now？ The thieving sun touched Josephine gently。
She lifted her face。 She was drawn over to the window by gentle
beams。。。
Until the barrel…organ stopped playing Constantia stayed before the
Buddha； wondering； but not as usual； not vaguely。 This time her wonder
was like longing。 She remembered the times she had come in here； crept
out of bed in her nightgown when the moon was full； and lain on the floor
with her arms outstretched； as though she was crucified。 Why？ The big；
pale moon had made her do it。 The horrible dancing figures on the
carved screen had leered at her and she hadn't minded。 She remembered
too how； whenever they were at the seaside； she had gone off by herself
and got as close to the sea as she could； and sung something； something
she had made up； while she gazed all over that restless water。 There had
been this other life； running out； bringing things home in bags； getting
things on approval； discussing them with Jug； and taking them back to get
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more things on approval； and arranging father's trays and trying not to
annoy father。 But it all seemed to have happened in a kind of tunnel。 It
wasn't real。 It was only when she came out of the tunnel into the
moonlight or by the sea or into a thunderstorm that she really felt herself。
What did it mean？ What was it she was always wanting？ What did it
all lead to？ Now？ Now？
She turned away from the Buddha with one of her vague gestures。
She went over to where Josephine was standing。 She wanted to say
something to Josephine； something frightfully important； aboutabout the
future and what。。。
〃Don't you think perhaps〃 she began。
But Josephine interrupted her。 〃I was wondering if now〃 she
murmured。 They stopped； they waited for each other。
〃Go on； Con；〃 said Josephine。
〃No； no； Jug； after you；〃 said Constantia。
〃No； say what you were going to say。 You began；〃 said Josephine。
〃I。。。I'd rather hear what you were going to say first；〃 said Constantia。
〃Don't be absurd； Con。〃
〃Really； Jug。〃
〃Connie！〃
〃Oh； Jug！〃
A pause。 Then Constantia said faintly； 〃I can't say what I was going
to say； Jug； because I've forgotten what it was。。。that I was going to say。〃
Josephine was silent for a moment。 She stared at a big cloud where
the sun had been。 Then she replied shortly； 〃I've forgotten too。〃
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4。 MR。 AND MRS。 DOVE。
Of course he knewno man betterthat he hadn't a ghost of a chance；
he hadn't an e
