the titan-第23部分
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s and talks on pensive afternoons when the city swam in a golden haze； and the thing was done。 There was a sudden Saturday afternoon marriage； a runaway day to Milwaukee； a return to the studio now to be fitted out for two； and then kisses； kisses； kisses until love was satisfied or eased。
But life cannot exist on that diet alone； and so by degrees the difficulties had begun to manifest themselves。 Fortunately； the latter were not allied with sharp financial want。 Rita was not poor。 Her father conducted a small but profitable grain elevator at Wichita； and； after her sudden marriage； decided to continue her allowance； though this whole idea of art and music in its upper reaches was to him a strange； far…off； uncertain thing。 A thin； meticulous； genial person interested in small trade opportunities； and exactly suited to the rather sparse social life of Wichita； he found Harold as curious as a bomb； and preferred to handle him gingerly。 Gradually； however； being a very human if simple person； he came to be very proud of itboasted in Wichita of Rita and her artist husband； invited them home to astound the neighbors during the summer…time； and the fall brought his almost farmer…like wife on to see them and to enjoy trips； sight…seeing； studio teas。 It was amusing； typically American； naive； almost impossible from many points of view。
Rita Sohlberg was of the semi…phlegmatic type； soft； full…blooded； with a body that was going to be fat at forty； but which at present was deliciously alluring。 Having soft； silky； light…brown hair； the color of light dust； and moist gray…blue eyes； with a fair skin and even； white teeth； she was flatteringly self…conscious of her charms。 She pretended in a gay； childlike way to be unconscious of the thrill she sent through many susceptible males； and yet she knew well enough all the while what she was doing and how she was doing it； it pleased her so to do。 She was conscious of the wonder of her smooth； soft arms and neck； the fullness and seductiveness of her body； the grace and perfection of her clothing； or； at least； the individuality and taste which she made them indicate。 She could take an old straw…hat form； a ribbon； a feather； or a rose； and with an innate artistry of feeling turn it into a bit of millinery which somehow was just the effective thing for her。 She chose naive combinations of white and blues； pinks and white； browns and pale yellows； which somehow suggested her own soul； and topped them with great sashes of silky brown （or even red） ribbon tied about her waist； and large； soft…brimmed； face…haloing hats。 She was a graceful dancer； could sing a little； could play feelingly sometimes brilliantlyand could draw。 Her art was a makeshift； however； she was no artist。 The most significant thing about her was her moods and her thoughts； which were uncertain； casual； anarchic。 Rita Sohlberg； from the conventional point of view； was a dangerous person； and yet from her own point of view at this time she was not so at alljust dreamy and sweet。
A part of the peculiarity of her state was that Sohlberg had begun to disappoint Ritasorely。 Truth to tell； he was suffering from that most terrible of all maladies； uncertainty of soul and inability to truly find himself。 At times he was not sure whether he was cut out to be a great violinist or a great composer； or merely a great teacher； which last he was never willing really to admit。 〃I am an arteest；〃 he was fond of saying。 〃Ho； how I suffer from my temperament！〃 And again： 〃These dogs！ These cows！ These pigs！〃 This of other people。 The quality of his playing was exceedingly erratic； even though at times it attained to a kind of subtlety； tenderness； awareness； and charm which brought him some attention。 As a rule； however； it reflected the chaotic state of his own brain。 He would play violently； feverishly； with a wild passionateness of gesture which robbed him of all ability to control his own technic。
〃Oh； Harold！〃 Rita used to exclaim at first； ecstatically。 Later she was not so sure。
Life and character must really get somewhere to be admirable； and Harold； really and truly； did not seem to be getting anywhere。 He taught； stormed； dreamed； wept； but he ate his three meals a day； Rita noticed； and he took an excited interest at times in other women。 To be the be…all and end…all of some one man's life was the least that Rita could conceive or concede as the worth of her personality； and so； as the years went on and Harold began to be unfaithful； first in moods； transports； then in deeds； her mood became dangerous。 She counted them upa girl music pupil； then an art student； then the wife of a banker at whose house Harold played socially。 There followed strange； sullen moods on the part of Rita； visits home； groveling repentances on the part of Harold； tears； violent； passionate reunions； and then the same thing over again。 What would you？
Rita was not jealous of Harold any more； she had lost faith in his ability as a musician。 But she was disappointed that her charms were not sufficient to blind him to all others。 That was the fly in the ointment。 It was an affront to her beauty； and she was still beautiful。 She was unctuously full…bodied； not quite so tall as Aileen； not really as large； but rounder and plumper； softer and more seductive。 Physically she was not well set up； so vigorous； but her eyes and mouth and the roving character of her mind held a strange lure。 Mentally she was much more aware than Aileen； much more precise in her knowledge of art； music； literature； and current events； and in the field of romance she was much more vague and alluring。 She knew many things about flowers； precious stones； insects； birds； characters in fiction； and poetic prose and verse generally。
At the time the Cowperwoods first met the Sohlbergs the latter still had their studio in the New Arts Building； and all was seemingly as serene as a May morning； only Harold was not getting along very well。 He was drifting。 The meeting was at a tea given by the Haatstaedts； with whom the Cowperwoods were still friendly； and Harold played。 Aileen； who was there alone； seeing a chance to brighten her own life a little； invited the Sohlbergs； who seemed rather above the average； to her house to a musical evening。 They came。
On this occasion Cowperwood took one look at Sohlberg and placed him exactly。 〃An erratic； emotional temperament；〃 he thought。 〃Probably not able to place himself for want of consistency and application。〃 But he liked him after a fashion。 Sohlberg was interesting as an artistic type or figurequite like a character in a Japanese print might be。 He greeted him pleasantly。
〃And Mrs。 Sohlberg； I suppose；〃 he remarked； feelingly； catching a quick suggestion of the rhythm and sufficiency and naive taste that went with her。 She was in simple white and bluesmall blue ribbons threaded above lacy flounces in the skin。 Her arms and throat were deliciously soft and bare。 Her eyes were quick； and yet soft and babyishpetted eyes。
〃You know；〃 she said to him； with a peculiar rounded formation of the mouth； which was a characteristic of her when she talkeda pretty； pouty mouth； 〃I thought we would never get heah at all。 There was a fire〃she pronounced it fy…yah〃at Twelfth Street〃 （the Twelfth was Twalfth in her mouth） 〃and the engines were all about there。 Oh； such sparks and smoke！ And the flames coming out of the windows！ The flames were a very dark redalmost orange and black。 They're pretty when they're that waydon't you think so？〃
Cowperwood was charmed。 〃Indeed； I do；〃 he said； genially； using a kind of superior and yet sympathetic air which he could easily assume on occasion。 He felt as though Mrs。 Sohlberg might be a charming daughter to himshe was so cuddling and shyand yet he could see that she was definite and individual。 Her arms and face； he told himself； were lovely。 Mrs。 Sohlberg only saw before her a smart； cold； exact mancapable； very； she presumedwith brilliant； incisive eyes。 How different from Harold； she thought； who would never be anything muchnot even famous。
〃I'm so glad you brought your violin；〃 Aileen was saying to Harold； who was in another corner。 〃I've been looking forward to your coming to play for us。〃
〃Very nize ov you； I'm sure；〃 Sohlberg replied； with his sweety drawl。 〃Such a nize plaze you have hereall these loafly books； and jade； and glass。〃
He had an unctuous； yielding way which was charming； Aileen thought。 He should have a strong； rich woman to take care of him。 He was like a stormy； erratic boy。
After refreshments were served Sohlberg played。 Cowperwood was interested by his standing figurehis eyes； his hairbut he was much more interested in Mrs。 Sohlberg； to whom his look constantly strayed。 He watched her hands on the keys； her fingers； the dimples at her elbows。 What an adorable mouth； he thought； and what light； fluffy hair！ But； more than that； there was a mood that invested it alla bit of tinted color of the mind that reached him and made him sympathetic and even passionate toward her。 She was the kind of woman he would like。 She was somewhat like Aileen when she was six years younger （Aileen was now thirty…three； and Mrs。 Sohlberg twenty…seven）； only Aileen had always been more robust； more vigorous； less nebulous。 Mrs。 Sohlberg （he finally thought it out for himself） was like the rich tinted interior of a South Sea oyster…shellwarm； colorful； delicate。 But there was something firm there； too。 Nowhere in society had he seen any one like her。 She was rapt； sensuous； beautiful。 He kept his eyes on her until finally she became aware that he was gazing at her； and then she looked back at him in an arch； smiling way； fixing her mouth in a potent line。 Cowperwood was captivated。 Was she vulnerable？ was his one thought。 Did that faint smile mean anything more than mere social complaisance？ Probably not； but could not a temperament so rich and full be awakened to feeling by his own？ When she was through playing he took occasion to say： 〃Wouldn't you like to stroll into the gallery？ Are you fond of pictures？〃 He gave her his arm。
〃Now； you know；〃 said Mrs。 Sohlberg； quaintlyvery captivatingly； he thought； because she was so p
