the captives-第68部分
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But on the whole she was comfortable； only the thin gold ring round her finger felt strange。 Deep in a little pocket inside her blouse was the ring with the three little pearls。
〃I do hope； Maggie darling；〃 he said； 〃you don't think it strange our not going somewhere else for our honeymoon。 My lads will be expecting me backI was kept longer in London than I should have beenby you； you little witch。 My witch now〃
He put his arm round her waist and urged her head towards his coat。 But her hat； her beautiful hat that had cost so much more than she had ever spent on a hat before； was in the way。 It struck into his chin。 They were both uncomfortable and then； thank heaven； the train slowed down； they were at a station and some one got into their carriage； a stout man； all newspaper and creases to his trousers。 That； in the circumstances； was a great relief and soon Maggie dozed； seeing the telegraph wires and the trees like waving hands through a mist of sleep。
As she fell asleep she realised that this was only the second time in all her life that she had been in a train。 Some one bawled in her car 〃Skeaton！ Skeaton！〃 and she looked up to find a goat…faced porter gazing at her through the window。 She was on a storm…driven platform； her husband's arm was through hers； she was being helped into an old faded cab。 Now they were driving down a hill； under a railway…arch； along a road with villas and trees； trees and villas； and then villas alone。 What a wind！ The bare branches were in a frenzy； and from almost every villa blew little pennons of white curtains。 〃They like to have their windows open any way；〃 she thought。 Paul said very little； he was obviously nervous of how she would take it all。 She took it all very well。
〃What pretty houses！〃 she said。 〃And here are the shops！〃
Only a fewa sweet…shop； a grocer's； a stationer's with 〃Simpson's Library〃 on the door； a post…office。
〃The suburbs；〃 said Paul。
What a wind！ It rolled up the road like a leaping carpet； you could almost see its folds and creases。 No one aboutnot a living soul。
〃The cab I ordered never came。 Lucky thing there was one there；〃 said Paul。
Not a soul about。 Does any one live here？ She could not see much through the window； and she could hear nothing because the glass rattled so。
〃Here we are！〃 The cab stopped with a jerk。 Here they were then。 A gate swung to behind them； there was a little drive with bushes on either side of it and then the house。
Not a very handsome house； Maggie thought。 A dull square grey with chimneys like ears in exactly the right places。 Some pieces of paper were whirled up and down by the wind； they danced about the horse's feet。 She noticed that the door…handles needed polishing。 A cavernous hall； a young girl with untidy hair and a yelping dog received them。
〃That's Mitch！〃 said Paul。 〃Dear old Mitch。 How are you； dear old fellow？ Down Mitch！ Down！ There's a good dog。〃
The young girl was terrified of Maggie。 She gulped through her nose。
〃I've put tea in the study； sir；〃 she said。
〃Tea at once； little woman； eh？〃 said Paul。 〃I'm dying for some。 Thank you； Emily。 All well？ That's right。 Dear； dear； It IS nice to be home again。〃
Yes； he was nervous； poor Paul。 She felt a great tenderness for him； but she could not say the right words。 She should have said： 〃It is nice；〃 but it was not。 The hall was so cold and dark； and all over the house windows were rattling。
They went straight into the study。 What a room！ It reminded Maggie at once； in its untidiness and discomfort； of her father's； study； and that thought struck a chill into her very heart； so that she had to pause for a moment and control herself。 There were piles of newspapers heaped up against the shelves； books run to the ceiling； old； old books with the covers tumbling off them。 On the stone mantelpiece was a perfect litterold pipes； bundles of letters； a ball of string； some yellow photographs； a crucifix and a small plant dead and shrivelled in its pot。
〃Now then； darling。 Hurrah for some tea！〃
She poured it out and he watched her in an ecstasy。 Strangely she began to be frightened and a little breathless； as though the walls of the room were slowly closing in。 The tea had been standing a long time； it was very strong and chill。
The house was a firing…ground of rattle and whirs； but there were no human sounds anywhere。 There was dust all over the room。
They had said nothing for some time。
He spoke suddenly； his voice husky and awkward； as though he were trying a new voice for the first time。
〃Maggie！〃 he said。 〃Don't sit so far away。 Come over here。〃
She crossed over to him。 He； with an arm that seemed to be suddenly of iron； pulled her on to his knee。 She was rebellious。 Her whole body stiffened。 She did not want this； she did not want this！ Some voice within cried out： 〃Take care！ Take care！〃 。 。 。 He pressed her close to him； he kissed her furiously； savagely； her eyes； her mouth； her cheek。 She could feel his heart pounding beneath his clothes like a savage beast。 His hands were all about her； he was crushing her so that she was hurt； but she did not feel that at all； there was something else 。 。 。
With all her might she fought down her resistance。 This was her duty。 She must obey。 But something desolate and utterly； utterly lonely crept away and cried bitterly； watching her surrender。
CHAPTER III
SKEATON…ON…SEA
She was swinging higher； higher； higherswinging with that delightful rhythm that one knows best in dreams； lazily； idly； and yet with purpose and resolve。 She was swinging far above the pain； the rebellion； the surrender。 That was left for ever； the time of her tears； of her loneliness was over。 Above her； yet distant； was a golden cloud； soft； iridescent； and in the heart of this lay； she knew； the solution of the mystery； when she reached it the puzzle would be resolved； and in a wonderful tranquillity she could rest after her journey。 Nearer and nearer she swung； the cloud was a blaze of gold so that she must not look； but could feel its warmth and heat already irradiating about her。 Only to know！ 。 。 。 to connect the two worlds； to find the bridge； to destroy the gulf！
Then suddenly the rhythm changed。 She was descending again； slowly the cloud diminished； a globe of light； a ball of fire； a dazzling star。 The air was cold； her eyes could not penetrate the dark； with a sigh she awoke。
It was early morning； and a filmy white shadow pervaded the room。 For a moment she did not know where she was； she saw the ghostly shadows of chairs； of the chest of drawers； of a high cupboard。 Then the large picture of 〃The Crucifixion；〃 very； very dim； reminded her。 She knew where she was； she turned and saw her husband sleeping at her side； huddled； like a child； his face on his arm； gently breathing； in the deepest sleep。 She watched him。 There had been a moment that night when she had hated him； hated him so bitterly that she could have fought him and even killed him。 There had been another moment after that； when she had been so miserable that her own death seemed the only solution； when she had watched him tumble into sleep and had herself lain； with burning eyes and her flesh dry and hot； staring into the dark； ashamed； humiliated。 Then the old Maggie had come to her rescue； the old Maggie who bade her make the best of her conditions whatever they might be； who told her there was humour in everything； hope always； courage everywhere； and that in her own inviolable soul lay her strength； that no one could defeat her did she not defeat herself。
Now； most strangely； in that early light； she felt a great tenderness for him； the tenderness of the mother for the child。 She put out her hand； touched his shoulder； stroked it with her hand； laid her head against it。 He； murmuring in his sleep； turned towards her； put his arm around her and so； in the shadow of his heart； she fell into deep； dreamless slumber。
At breakfast that morning she felt with him a strange shyness and confusion。 She had never been shy with him before。 At the very first she had been completely at her ease； that had been one of his greatest attractions for her。 But now she realised that she would be for a whole fortnight alone with him； that she did not know him in the least； and that he himself was strangely embarrassed by his own discoveries that he was making。
So they； both of them； took the world that was on every side of them； put it in between them and left their personal relationship to wait for a better time。
Maggie was childishly excited。 She had； for the first time in her life； a house of her own to order and arrange； by the middle of that first afternoon she had forgotten that Paul existed。
She admitted to herself at once； so that there should be no pretence about the matter； that the house was hideous。 〃Yes； it's hideous；〃 she said aloud； standing in the middle of the dining…room and looking about her。 It never could have been very much of a house； but they （meaning Paul and Grace） had certainly not done their best for it。
Maggie had had no education； she had not perhaps much natural taste； but she knew when things and people were sympathetic； and this house was as unsympathetic as a house could well be。 To begin with； the wall…papers were awful； in the dining…room there was a dark dead green with some kind of pink flower； the drawing…room was dressed in a kind of squashed strawberry colour； the wall…paper of the staircases and passages was of imitation marble； and the three bedrooms were pink； green； and yellow； perfect horticultural shows。
It was the distinctive quality of all the wall…papers that nothing looked well against them； and the cheap reproductions in gilt frames； the religious prints； the photographs （groups of the Rev。 Paul at Cambridge； at St。 Ermand's Theological College； with the Skeaton Band of Hope） were all equally forlorn and out of place。
It was evident that everything in the house was arranged and intended to stay for ever where it was； the chairs against the walls； the ornaments on the mantelpieces； the photograph…frames； the plush mats； the bright red pots with ferns； the long blue vases； and yet the impression was not one of discipline and order。 Aunt Anne's house had bee
