villa rubein and other stories-第47部分

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right；　would　look　long　at　herself　in　the　glass；　and　pin　one　into　her

hair。　　Swithin　ceased　to　wonder；　he　ceased　to　wonder　at　anything　they

did。　　One　evening　he　found　Boleskey　deep　in　conversation　with　a　pale；

dishevelled…looking　person。



〃Our　friend　Mr。　ForsyteCount　D。。。。；〃　said　Boleskey。



Swithin　experienced　a　faint；　unavoidable　emotion；　but　looking　at　the

Count's　trousers；　he　thought：　'Doesn't　look　much　like　one！'　　And　with

an　ironic　bow　to　the　silent　girls；　he　turned；　and　took　his　hat。　　But

when　he　had　reached　the　bottom　of　the　dark　stairs　he　heard　footsteps。

Rozsi　came　running　down；　looked　out　at　the　door；　and　put　her　hands　up

to　her　breast　as　if　disappointed；　suddenly　with　a　quick　glance　round

she　saw　him。　　Swithin　caught　her　arm。　　She　slipped　away；　and　her　face

seemed　to　bubble　with　defiance　or　laughter；　she　ran　up　three　steps；

stopped；　looked　at　him　across　her　shoulder；　and　fled　on　up　the

stairs。　　Swithin　went　out　bewildered　and　annoyed。



'What　was　she　going　to　say　to　me？'　he　kept　thinking。　　During　these

three　weeks　he　had　asked　himself　all　sorts　of　questions：　whether　he

were　being　made　a　fool　of；　whether　she　were　in　love　with　him；　what　he

was　doing　there；　and　sometimes　at　night；　with　all　his　candles　burning

as　if　he　wanted　light；　the　breeze　blowing　on　him　through　the　window；

his　cigar；　half…smoked；　in　his　hand；　he　sat；　an　hour　or　more；　staring

at　the　wall。　　'Enough　of　this！'　he　thought　every　morning。　　Twice　he

packed　fullyonce　he　ordered　his　travelling　carriage；　but

countermanded　it　the　following　day。　　What　definitely　he　hoped；

intended；　resolved；　he　could　not　have　said。　　He　was　always　thinking

of　Rozsi；　he　could　not　read　the　riddle　in　her　faceshe　held　him　in　a

vice；　notwithstanding　that　everything　about　her　threatened　the　very

fetishes　of　his　existence。　　And　Boleskey！　　Whenever　he　looked　at　him

he　thought；　'If　he　were　only　clean？'　and　mechanically　fingered　his

own　well…tied　cravatte。　　To　talk　with　the　fellow；　too；　was　like　being

forced　to　look　at　things　which　had　no　place　in　the　light　of　day。

Freedom；　equality；　self…sacrifice！



'Why　can't　he　settle　down　at　some　business；'　he　thought；　'instead　of

all　this　talk？'　Boleskey's　sudden　diffidences；　self…depreciation；

fits　of　despair；　irritated　him。　　〃Morbid　beggar！〃　he　would　mutter；

〃thank　God　I　haven't　a　thin　skin。〃　　And　proud　too！　　Extraordinary！

An　impecunious　fellow　like　that！　　One　evening；　moreover；　Boleskey　had

returned　home　drunk。　　Swithin　had　hustled　him　away　into　his　bedroom；

helped　him　to　undress；　and　stayed　until　he　was　asleep。　　'Too　much　of

a　good　thing！'　he　thought；　'before　his　own　daughters；　too！'　　It　was

after　this　that　he　ordered　his　travelling　carriage。　　The　other

occasion　on　which　he　packed　was　one　evening；　when　not　only　Boleskey；

but　Rozsi　herself　had　picked　chicken　bones　with　her　fingers。



Often　in　the　mornings　he　would　go　to　the　Mirabell　Garden　to　smoke　his

cigar；　there；　in　stolid　contemplation　of　the　statuesrows　of　half…

heroic　men　carrying　off　half…distressful　femaleshe　would　spend　an

hour　pleasantly；　his　hat　tilted　to　keep　the　sun　off　his　nose。　　The

day　after　Rozsi　had　fled　from　him　on　the　stairs；　he　came　there　as

usual。　　It　was　a　morning　of　blue　sky　and　sunlight　glowing　on　the　old

prim　garden；　on　its　yew…trees；　and　serio…comic　statues；　and　walls

covered　with　apricots　and　plums。　　When　Swithin　approached　his　usual

seat；　who　should　be　sitting　there　but　Rozsi



〃Good…morning；〃　he　stammered；　〃you　knew　this　was　my　seat　then？〃



Rozsi　looked　at　the　ground。　　〃Yes；〃　she　answered。



Swithin　felt　bewildered。　　〃Do　you　know；〃　he　said；　〃you　treat　me　very

funnily？〃



To　his　surprise　Rozsi　put　her　little　soft　hand　down　and　touched　his；

then；　without　a　word；　sprang　up　and　rushed　away。　　It　took　him　a

minute　to　recover。　　There　were　people　present；　he　did　not　like　to

run；　but　overtook　her　on　the　bridge；　and　slipped　her　hand　beneath　his

arm。



〃You　shouldn't　have　done　that；〃　he　said；　〃you　shouldn't　have　run　away

from　me；　you　know。〃



Rozsi　laughed。　　Swithin　withdrew　his　arm；　a　desire　to　shake　her

seized　him。　　He　walked　some　way　before　he　said；　〃Will　you　have　the

goodness　to　tell　me　what　you　came　to　that　seat　for？〃



Rozsi　flashed　a　look　at　him。　　〃To…morrow　is　the　fete；〃　she　answered。



Swithin　muttered；　〃Is　that　all？〃



〃If　you　do　not　take　us；　we　cannot　go。〃



〃Suppose　I　refuse；〃　he　said　sullenly；　〃there　are　plenty　of　others。〃



Rozsi　bent　her　head；　scurrying　along。　　〃No；〃　she　murmured；　〃if　you　do

not　goI　do　not　wish。〃



Swithin　drew　her　hand　back　within　his　arm。　　How　round　and　soft　it

was！　　He　tried　to　see　her　face。　　When　she　was　nearly　home　he　said

goodbye；　not　wishing；　for　some　dark　reason；　to　be　seen　with　her。　　He

watched　till　she　had　disappeared；　then　slowly　retraced　his　steps　to

the　Mirabell　Garden。　　When　he　came　to　where　she　had　been　sitting；　he

slowly　lighted　his　cigar；　and　for　a　long　time　after　it　was　smoked　out

remained　there　in　the　silent　presence　of　the　statues。









VII



A　crowd　of　people　wandered　round　the　booths；　and　Swithin　found

himself　obliged　to　give　the　girls　his　arms。　　'Like　a　little　Cockney

clerk！'　he　thought。　　His　indignation　passed　unnoticed；　they　talked；

they　laughed；　each　sight　and　sound　in　all　the　hurly…burly　seemed　to

go　straight　into　their　hearts。　　He　eyed　them　ironicallytheir　eager

voices；　and　little　coos　of　sympathy　seemed　to　him　vulgar。　　In　the

thick　of　the　crowd　he　slipped　his　arm　out　of　Margit's；　but；　just　as

he　thought　that　he　was　free；　the　unwelcome　hand　slid　up　again。　　He

tried　again；　but　again　Margit　reappeared；　serene；　and　full　of

pleasant　humour；　and　his　failure　this　time　appeared　to　him　in　a　comic

light。　　But　when　Rozsi　leaned　across　him；　the　glow　of　her　round

cheek；　her　curving　lip；　the　inscrutable　grey　gleam　of　her　eyes；　sent

a　thrill　of　longing　through　him。　　He　was　obliged　to　stand　by　while

they　parleyed　with　a　gipsy；　whose　matted　locks　and　skinny　hands

inspired　him　with　a　not　unwarranted　disgust。　　〃Folly！〃　he　muttered；

as　Rozsi　held　out　her　palm。　　The　old　woman　mumbled；　and　shot　a

malignant　look　at　him。　　Rozsi　drew　back　her　hand；　and　crossed

herself。　　'　Folly！'　Swithin　thought　again；　and　seizing　the　girls'

arms；　he　hurried　them　away。



〃What　did　the　old　hag　say？〃　he　asked。



Rozsi　shook　her　head。



〃You　don't　mean　that　you　believe？〃



Her　eyes　were　full　of　tears。　　〃The　gipsies　are　wise；〃　she　murmured。



〃Come；　what　did　she　tell　you？〃



This　time　Rozsi　looked　hurriedly　round；　and　slipped　away　into　the

crowd。　　After　a　hunt　they　found　her；　and　Swithin；　who　was　scared；

growled：　〃You　shouldn't　do　such　thingsit's　not　respectable。〃



On　higher　ground；　in　the　centre　of　a　clear　space；　a　military　band　was

playing。　　For　the　privilege　of　entering　this　charmed　circle　Swithin

paid　three　kronen；　choosing　naturally　the　best　seats。　　He　ordered

wine；　too；　watching　Rozsi　out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye　as　he　poured

it　out。　　The　protecting　tenderness　of　yesterday　was　all　lost　in　this

medley。　　It　was　every　man　for　himself；　after　all！　　The　colour　had

deepened　again　in　her　cheeks；　she　laughed；　pouting　her　lips。

Suddenly　she　put　her　glass　aside。　　〃Thank　you；　very　much；〃　she　said；

〃it　is　enough！〃



Margit；　whose　pretty　mouth　was　all　smiles；　cried；　〃Lieber　Gott！　is　it

not　good…life？〃　　It　was　not　a　question　Swithin　could　undertake　to

answer。　　The　band　began　to　play　a　waltz。　　〃Now　they　will　dance。

Lieber　Gott！　and　are　the　lights　not　wonderful？〃　　Lamps　were

flickering　beneath　the　trees　like　a　swarm　of　fireflies。　　There　was　a

hum　as　from　a　gigantic　beehive。　　Passers…by　lifted　their　faces；　then

vanished　into　the　crowd；　Rozsi　stood　gazing　at　them　spellbound；　as　if

their　very　going　and　coming　were　a　delight。



The　space　was　soon　full　of　whirling　couples。　　Rozsi's　head　began　to

beat　time。　　〃O　Margit！〃　she　whispered。



Swithin's　face　had　assumed　a　solemn；　uneasy　expression。　　A　man

raising　his　hat；　offered　his　arm　to　Margit。　　She　glanced　back　across

her　shoulder　to　reassure　Swithin。　　〃It　is　a　friend；〃　she　said。



Swithin　looked　at　Rozsiher　eyes　were　bright；　her　lips　tremulous。

He　slipped　his　hand　along　the　table　and　touched　her　fingers。　　Then

she　flashed　a　look　at　himappeal；　reproach；　tenderness；　all　were

expressed　in　it。　　Was　she　expecting　him　to　dance？　　Did　she　want　to

mix　with　the　rift…raff　there；　wish　him　to　make　an　exhibition　of

himself　in　this　hurly…burly？　　A　voice　said；　〃Good…evening！〃　　Before

them　stood　Kasteliz；　in　a　dark　coat　tightly　buttoned　at　the　waist。



〃You　are　not　dancing；　Rozsi　Kozsanony？〃　（Miss　Rozsi）。　　〃Let　me；　then；

have　the　pleasure。〃　　He　held　out　his　arm。　　Swithin　stared　in　front　of

him。　　In　the　very　act　of　going　she　gave　him　a　look　that　said　as　plain

as　words：　〃Will　you　not？〃　　But　for　answer　he　turned　his　eyes　away；

and　when　he　looked　again　she　was　gone。　　He　paid　the　score　and　made

his　way　into　the　crowd。　　But　as　he　went　she　danced　by　close　to　him；

all　flushed　and　panting。　　She　hung　back　as　if　to　stop　him；　and　he

caught　the　glistening　of　tears。　　Then　he　lost　sight　of　her　again。　　To

be　deserted　the　first　minute　he　was　alone　with　her；　and　for　that

jackanapes　with　the　small　head　and　the　volcanic　glances！　　It　was　too

much！　　And　suddenly　it　occurred　to　him　that　she　was　alone　with

Kastelizalone　at　night；　and　far　from　home。　　'　Well；'　he　thought；

'what　do　I　care？'　and　shouldered　his　way　on　through　the　crowd。　　It

served　him　right　for　mixing　with　such　people　here。　　He　left　the　fair；

but　the　further　he　went；　the　more　he　nursed　his　rage；　the　more

heinous　seemed　her　offence；　the　sharper　grew　his　jealousy。　　〃A

beggarly　baron！〃　was　his　thought。



A　figure　came　alongsideit　was　Boleskey。　　One　look　showed　Swithin

his　condition。　　Drunk　again！　　This　was　the　last　straw！



Unfortunately　Boleskey　had　recognised　him。　　He　seemed　violently

excited。　　〃Wherewhere　are　my　daughters？〃　he　began。



Swithin　brushed　past；　but　Boleskey　caught　his