the garden party(园会)-第4章
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Kember would call in her indifferent； tired voice； 〃I say； Glad…eyes； you
might heave me a handkerchief if I've got one； will you？〃 And Glad…eyes；
a red bow in her hair instead of a cap； and white shoes； came running with
an impudent smile。 It was an absolute scandal！ True； she had no
children； and her husband。。。Here the voices were always raised； they
became fervent。 How can he have married her？ How can he； how can
he？ It must have been money； of course； but even then！
Mrs。 Kember's husband was at least ten years younger than she was；
and so incredibly handsome that he looked like a mask or a most perfect
illustration in an American novel rather than a man。 Black hair； dark blue
eyes； red lips； a slow sleepy smile； a fine tennis player； a perfect dancer；
and with it all a mystery。 Harry Kember was like a man walking in his
sleep。 Men couldn't stand him； they couldn't get a word out of the chap；
he ignored his wife just as she ignored him。 How did he live？ Of
course there were stories； but such stories！ They simply couldn't be told。
The women he'd been seen with； the places he'd been seen in。。。but nothing
was ever certain； nothing definite。 Some of the women at the Bay
privately thought he'd commit a murder one day。 Yes； even while they
talked to Mrs。 Kember and took in the awful concoction she was wearing；
they saw her； stretched as she lay on the beach； but cold； bloody； and still
with a cigarette stuck in the corner of her mouth。
Mrs。 Kember rose； yawned； unsnapped her belt buckle； and tugged at
the tape of her blouse。 And Beryl stepped out of her skirt and shed her
jersey； and stood up in her short white petticoat； and her camisole with
ribbon bows on the shoulders。
〃Mercy on us；〃 said Mrs。 Harry Kember； 〃what a little beauty you
are！〃
〃Don't！〃 said Beryl softly； but； drawing off one stocking and then the
other； she felt a little beauty。
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〃My dearwhy not？〃 said Mrs。 Harry Kember； stamping on her own
petticoat。 Reallyher underclothes！ A pair of blue cotton knickers and
a linen bodice that reminded one somehow of a pillow…case。。。〃And you
don't wear stays； do you？〃 She touched Beryl's waist； and Beryl sprang
away with a small affected cry。 Then 〃Never！〃 she said firmly。
〃Lucky little creature；〃 sighed Mrs。 Kember； unfastening her own。
Beryl turned her back and began the complicated movements of some
one who is trying to take off her clothes and to pull on her bathing…dress
all at one and the same time。
〃Oh； my deardon't mind me；〃 said Mrs。 Harry Kember。 〃Why be
shy？ I shan't eat you。 I shan't be shocked like those other ninnies。〃
And she gave her strange neighing laugh and grimaced at the other
women。
But Beryl was shy。 She never undressed in front of anybody。 Was
that silly？ Mrs。 Harry Kember made her feel it was silly； even something
to be ashamed of。 Why be shy indeed！ She glanced quickly at her
friend standing so boldly in her torn chemise and lighting a fresh cigarette；
and a quick； bold； evil feeling started up in her breast。 Laughing
recklessly； she drew on the limp； sandy…feeling bathing…dress that was not
quite dry and fastened the twisted buttons。
〃That's better；〃 said Mrs。 Harry Kember。 They began to go down the
beach together。 〃Really； it's a sin for you to wear clothes； my dear。
Somebody's got to tell you some day。〃
The water was quite warm。 It was that marvellous transparent blue；
flecked with silver； but the sand at the bottom looked gold； when you
kicked with your toes there rose a little puff of gold…dust。 Now the
waves just reached her breast。 Beryl stood； her arms outstretched； gazing
out； and as each wave came she gave the slightest little jump； so that it
seemed it was the wave which lifted her so gently。
〃I believe in pretty girls having a good time；〃 said Mrs。 Harry Kember。
〃Why not？ Don't you make a mistake； my dear。 Enjoy yourself。〃 And
suddenly she turned turtle； disappeared； and swam away quickly； quickly；
like a rat。 Then she flicked round and began swimming back。 She was
going to say something else。 Beryl felt that she was being poisoned by
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this cold woman； but she longed to hear。 But oh； how strange； how
horrible！ As Mrs。 Harry Kember came up close she looked； in her black
waterproof bathing…cap； with her sleepy face lifted above the water； just
her chin touching； like a horrible caricature of her husband。
Chapter 1。VI。
In a steamer chair； under a manuka tree that grew in the middle of the
front grass patch； Linda Burnell dreamed the morning away。 She did
nothing。 She looked up at the dark； close； dry leaves of the manuka； at
the chinks of blue between； and now and again a tiny yellowish flower
dropped on her。 Prettyyes； if you held one of those flowers on the palm
of your hand and looked at it closely； it was an exquisite small thing。
Each pale yellow petal shone as if each was the careful work of a loving
hand。 The tiny tongue in the centre gave it the shape of a bell。 And
when you turned it over the outside was a deep bronze colour。 But as
soon as they flowered； they fell and were scattered。 You brushed them
off your frock as you talked； the horrid little things got caught in one's hair。
Why； then； flower at all？ Who takes the troubleor the joyto make all
these things that are wasted； wasted。。。It was uncanny。
On the grass beside her； lying between two pillows； was the boy。
Sound asleep he lay； his head turned away from his mother。 His fine dark
hair looked more like a shadow than like real hair； but his ear was a bright；
deep coral。 Linda clasped her hands above her head and crossed her feet。
It was very pleasant to know that all these bungalows were empty； that
everybody was down on the beach； out of sight； out of hearing。 She had
the garden to herself； she was alone。
Dazzling white the picotees shone； the golden…eyed marigold glittered；
the nasturtiums wreathed the veranda poles in green and gold flame。 If
only one had time to look at these flowers long enough； time to get over
the sense of novelty and strangeness； time to know them！ But as soon as
one paused to part the petals； to discover the under…side of the leaf； along
came Life and one was swept away。 And； lying in her cane chair； Linda
felt so light； she felt like a leaf。 Along came Life like a wind and she was
seized and shaken； she had to go。 Oh dear； would it always be so？ Was
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there no escape？
。。。Now she sat on the veranda of their Tasmanian home； leaning
against her father's knee。 And he promised； 〃As soon as you and I are old
enough； Linny； we'll cut off somewhere； we'll escape。 Two boys together。
I have a fancy I'd like to sail up a river in China。〃 Linda saw that river；
very wide； covered with little rafts and boats。 She saw the yellow hats of
the boatmen and she heard their high； thin voices as they called。。。
〃Yes； papa。〃
But just then a very broad young man with bright ginger hair walked
slowly past their house； and slowly； solemnly even； uncovered。 Linda's
father pulled her ear teasingly； in the way he had。
〃Linny's beau；〃 he whispered。
〃Oh； papa； fancy being married to Stanley Burnell！〃
Well； she was married to him。 And what was more she loved him。
Not the Stanley whom every one saw； not the everyday one； but a timid；
sensitive； innocent Stanley who knelt down every night to say his prayers；
and who longed to be good。 Stanley was simple。 If he believed in
peopleas he believed in her； for instanceit was with his whole heart。
He could not be disloyal； he could not tell a lie。 And how terribly he
suffered if he thought any oneshewas not being dead straight； dead
sincere with him！ 〃This is too subtle for me！〃 He flung out the words；
but his open； quivering； distraught look was like the look of a trapped
beast。
But the trouble washere Linda felt almost inclined to laugh； though
Heaven knows it was no laughing mattershe saw her Stanley so seldom。
There were glimpses； moments； breathing spaces of calm； but all the rest
of the time it was like living in a house that couldn't be cured of the habit
of catching on fire； on a ship that got wrecked every day。 And it was
always Stanley who was in the thick of the danger。 Her whole time was
spent in rescuing him； and restoring him； and calming him down； and
listening to his story。 And what was left of her time was spent in the
dread of having children。
Linda frowned； she sat up quickly in her steamer chair and clasped her
ankles。 Yes； that was her real grudge against life； that was what she
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could not understand。 That was the question she asked and asked； and
listened in vain for the answer。 It was all very well to say it was the
common lot of women to bear children。 It wasn't true。 She； for one；
could prove that wrong。 She was broken； made weak； her courage was
