The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第31章

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on　the　outside　once　more。　She　was　going　to　give　a　teaparty。　It
made　him　frightened　and　furious　and　miserable。　He　was　afraid　all
would　be　lost　that　he　had　so　newly　e　into：　like　the　youth　in
the　fairy　tale；　who　was　king　for　one　day　in　the　year；　and　for
the　rest　a　beaten　herd：　like　Cinderella　also；　at　the　feast。　He
was　sullen。　But　she　blithely　began　to　make　preparations　for　her
teaparty。　His　fear　was　too　strong；　he　was　troubled；　he　hated
her　shallow　anticipation　and　joy。　Was　she　not　forfeiting　the
reality；　the　one　reality；　for　all　that　was　shallow　and
worthless？　Wasn't　she　carelessly　taking　off　her　crown　to　be　an
artificial　figure　having　other　artificial　women　to　tea：　when　she
might　have　been　perfect　with　him；　and　kept　him　perfect；　in　the
land　of　intimate　connection？　Now　he　must　be　deposed；　his　joy
must　be　destroyed；　he　must　put　on　the　vulgar；　shallow　death　of
an　outward　existence。

He　ground　his　soul　in　uneasiness　and　fear。　But　she　rose　to　a
real　outburst　of　housework；　turning　him　away　as　she　shoved　the
furniture　aside　to　her　broom。　He　stood　hanging　miserable　near。
He　wanted　her　back。　Dread；　and　desire　for　her　to　stay　with　him；
and　shame　at　his　own　dependence　on　her　drove　him　to　anger。　He
began　to　lose　his　head。　The　wonder　was　going　to　pass　away　again。
All　the　love；　the　magnificent　new　order　was　going　to　be　lost；
she　would　forfeit　it　all　for　the　outside　things。　She　would　admit
the　outside　world　again；　she　would　throw　away　the　living　fruit
for　the　ostensible　rind。　He　began　to　hate　this　in　her。　Driven　by
fear　of　her　departure　into　a　state　of　helplessness；　almost　of
imbecility；　he　wandered　about　the　house。

And　she；　with　her　skirts　kilted　up；　flew　round　at　her　work；
absorbed。

〃Shake　the　rug　then；　if　you　must　hang　round；〃　she　said。

And　fretting　with　resentment；　he　went　to　shake　the　rug。　She
was　blithely　unconscious　of　him。　He　came　back；　hanging　near　to
her。

〃Can't　you　do　anything？〃　she　said；　as　if　to　a　child；
impatiently。　〃Can't　you　do　your　woodwork？〃

〃Where　shall　I　do　it？〃　he　asked；　harsh　with　pain。

〃Anywhere。〃

How　furious　that　made　him。

〃Or　go　for　a　walk；〃　she　continued。　〃Go　down　to　the　Marsh。
Don't　hang　about　as　if　you　were　only　half　there。〃

He　winced　and　hated　it。　He　went　away　to　read。　Never　had　his
soul　felt　so　flayed　and　uncreated。

And　soon　he　must　e　down　again　to　her。　His　hovering　near
her；　wanting　her　to　be　with　him；　the　futility　of　him；　the　way
his　hands　hung；　irritated　her　beyond　bearing。　She　turned　on　him
blindly　and　destructively；　he　became　a　mad　creature；　black　and
electric　with　fury。　The　dark　storms　rose　in　him；　his　eyes　glowed
black　and　evil；　he　was　fiendish　in　his　thwarted　soul。

There　followed　two　black　and　ghastly　days；　when　she　was　set
in　anguish　against　him；　and　he　felt　as　if　he　were　in　a　black；
violent　underworld；　and　his　urderously。　And　she
resisted　him。　He　seemed　a　dark；　almost　evil　thing；　pursuing　her；
hanging　on　to　her；　burdening　her。　She　would　give　anything　to
have　him　removed。

〃You　need　some　work　to　do；〃　she　said。　〃You　ought　to　be　at
work。　Can't　you　do　something？〃

His　soul　only　grew　the　blacker。　His　condition　now　became
plete；　the　darkness　of　his　soul　was　thorough。　Everything　had
gone：　he　remained　plete　in　his　own　tense；　black　will。　He　was
now　unaware　of　her。　She　did　not　exist。　His　dark；　passionate　soul
had　recoiled　upon　itself；　and　now；　clinched　and　coiled　round　a
centre　of　hatred；　existed　in　its　own　power。　There　was　a
curiously　ugly　pallor；　an　expressionlessness　in　his　face。　She
shuddered　from　him。　She　was　afraid　of　him。　His　will　seemed
grappled　upon　her。

She　retreated　before　him。　She　went　down　to　the　Marsh；　she
entered　again　the　immunity　of　her　parents'　love　for　her。　He
remained　at　Yew　Cottage；　black　and　clinched；　his　mind　dead。　He
was　unable　to　work　at　his　woodcarving。　He　went　on　working
monotonously　at　the　garden；　blindly；　like　a　mole。

As　she　came　home；　up　the　hill；　looking　away　at　the　town　dim
and　blue　on　the　hill；　her　heart　relaxed　and　became　yearning。　She
did　not　want　to　fight　him　any　more。　She　wanted　loveoh；
love。　Her　feet　began　to　hurry。　She　wanted　to　get　back　to　him。
Her　heart　became　tight　with　yearning　for　him。

He　had　been　making　the　garden　in　order；　cutting　the　edges　of
the　turf；　laying　the　path　with　stones。　He　was　a　good；　capable
workman。

〃How　nice　you've　made　it；〃　she　said；　approaching　tentatively
down　the　path。

But　he　did　not　heed；　he　did　not　hear。　His　brain　was　solid　and
dead。

〃Haven't　you　made　it　nice？〃　she　repeated；　rather
plaintively。

He　looked　up　at　her；　with　that　fixed；　expressionless　face　and
unseeing　eyes　which　shocked　her；　made　her　go　dazed　and　blind。
Then　he　turned　away。　She　saw　his　slender；　stooping　figure
groping。　A　revulsion　came　over　her。　She　went　indoors。

As　she　took　off　her　hat　in　the　bedroom；　she　found　herself
weeping　bitterly；　with　some　of　the　old；　anguished；　childish
desolation。　She　sat　still　and　cried　on。　She　did　not　want　him　to
know。　She　was　afraid　of　his　hard；　evil　moments；　the　head　dropped
a　little；　rigidly；　in　a　crouching；　cruel　way。　She　was　afraid　of
him。　He　seemed　to　lacerate　her　sensitive　femaleness。　He　seemed
to　hurt　her　womb；　to　take　pleasure　in　torturing　her。

He　came　into　the　house。　The　sound　of　his　footsteps　in　his
heavy　boots　filled　her　with　horror：　a　hard；　cruel；　malignant
sound。　She　was　afraid　he　would　e　upstairs。　But　he　did　not。
She　waited　apprehensively。　He　went　out。

Where　she　was　most　vulnerable；　he　hurt　her。　Oh；　where　she　was
delivered　over　to　him；　in　her　very　soft　femaleness；　he　seemed　to
lacerate　her　and　desecrate　her。　She　pressed　her　hands　over　her
womb　in　anguish；　whilst　the　tears　ran　down　her　face。　And　why；
and　why？　Why　was　he　like　this？

Suddenly　she　dried　her　tears。　She　must　get　the　tea　ready。　She
went　downstairs　and　set　the　table。　When　the　meal　was　ready；　she
called　to　him。

〃I've　mashed　the　tea；　Will；　are　you　ing？〃

She　herself　could　hear　the　sound　of　tears　in　her　own　voice；
and　she　began　to　cry　again。　He　did　not　answer；　but　went　on　with
his　work。　She　waited　a　few　minutes；　in　anguish。　Fear　came　over
her；　she　was　panicstricken　with　terror；　like　a　child；　and　she
could　not　go　home　again　to　her　father；　she　was　held　by　the　power
in　this　man　who　had　taken　her。

She　turned　indoors　so　that　he　should　not　see　her　tears。　She
sat　down　to　table。　Presently　he　came　into　the　scullery。　His
movements　jarred　on　her；　as　she　heard　them。　How　horrible　was　the
way　he　pumped；　exacerbating；　so　cruel！　How　she　hated　to　hear
him！　How　he　hated　her！　How　his　hatred　was　like　blows　upon　her！
The　tears　were　ing　again。

He　came　in；　his　face　wooden　and　lifeless；　fixed；　persistent。
He　sat　down　to　tea；　his　head　dropped　over　his　cup；　uglily。　His
hands　were　red　from　the　cold　water；　and　there　were　rims　of　earth
in　his　nails。　He　went　on　with　his　tea。

It　was　his　negative　insensitiveness　to　her　that　she　could　not
bear；　something　clayey　and　ugly。　His　intelligence　was
selfabsorbed。　How　unnatural　it　was　to　sit　with　a　selfabsorbed
creature；　like　something　negative　ensconced　opposite　one。
Nothing　could　touch　himhe　could　only　absorb　things　into
his　own　self。

The　tears　were　running　down　her　face。　Something　startled　him；
and　he　was　looking　up　at　her　with　his　hateful；　hard；　bright
eyes；　hard　and　unchanging　as　a　bird　of　prey。

〃What　are　you　crying　for？〃　came　the　grating　voice。

She　winced　through　her　womb。　She　could　not　stop　crying。

〃What　are　you　crying　for？〃　came　the　question　again；　in　just
the　same　tone。　And　still　there　was　silence；　with　only　the　sniff
of　her　tears。

His　eyes　glittered；　and　as　if　with　malignant　desire。　She
shrank　and　became　blind。　She　was　like　a　bird　being　beaten　down。
A　sort　of　swoon　of　helplessness　came　over　her。　She　was　of
another　order　than　he；　she　had　no　defence　against　him。　Against
such　an　influence；　she　was　only　vulnerable；　she　was　given
up。

He　rose　and　went　out　of　the　house；　possessed　by　the　evil
spirit。　It　tortured　him　and　wracked　him；　and　fought　in　him。　And
whilst　he　worked；　in　the　deepening　twilight；　it　left　him。
Suddenly　he　saw　that　she　was　hurt。　He　had　only　seen　her
triumphant　before。　Suddenly　his　heart　was　torn　with　passion
for　her。　He　became　alive　again；　in　an　anguish　of　passion。　He
could　not　bear　to　think　of　her　tearshe　could　not　bear　it。
He　wanted　to　go　to　her　and　pour　out　his　heart's　blood　to　her。　He
wanted　to　give　everything　to　her；　all　his　blood；　his　life；　to
the　last　dregs；　pour　everything　away　to　her。　He　yearned　with
passionate　desire　to　offer　himself　to　her；　utterly。

The　evening　star　came；　and　the　night。　She　had　not　lighted　the
lamp。　His　heart　burned　with　pain　and　with　grief。　He　trembled　to
go　to　her。

And　at　last　he　went；　hesitating；　burdened　with　a　great
offering。　The　hardness　had　gone　out　of　him；　his　body　was
sensitive；　slightly　trembling。　His　hand　was　curiously　sensitive；
shrinking；　as　he　shut　the　door。　He　fixed　the　latch　almost
tenderly。

In　the　kitchen　was　only　the　fireglow；　he　could　not　see　her。
He　quivered　with　dread　lest　she　had　gonehe　knew　not
where。　In　shrinking　dread；　he　went　through　to　the　parlour；　to
the　foot　of　the　stairs。

〃Anna；〃　he　called。

There　was　no　answer。　He　went　up　the　stairs；　in　dread　of　the
empty　housethe　horrible　emptiness　that　made　his　heart
ring　with　insanity。　He　opened　the　bedroom　door；　and　his　heart
flashed　with　certainty　that　she　had　gone；　that　he　was　alone。

But　he　saw　her　on　the　bed；　lying　very　still　and　scarcely
noticeable；　with　her　back　to　him。　He　went　and　put　his　hand　on
her　shoulder；　very　gently；　hesitating；　in　a　great　fear　and
selfoffering。　She　did　not　move。

He　waited。　The　hand　that　touched　her　shoulder　hurt　him；　as　if
she　were　sending　it　away。　He　stood　dim　with　pain。

〃Anna；〃　he　said。

But　still　she　was　motionless；　like　a　curled　up；　oblivious
creature。　His　heart　beat　with　strange　throes　of　pain。　Then；　by　a
motion　under　his　hand；　he　knew　she　was　crying；　holding　herself
hard　so　that　her　tears　should　not　be　known。　He　waited。　The
tension　continuedperhaps　she　was　not　cryingthen
suddenly　relapsed　with　a　sharp　catch　of　a　sob。　His　heart　flamed
with　love　and　suffering　for　her。　Kneeling　carefully　on　the　bed；
so　that　his　earthy　boots　should　not　touch　it；　he　took　her　in　his
arms　to　fort　her