the captives-第79部分

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ace…wise　across　the　flat　level　of　her　brain。　Martin。　Old。　Ill。　Paris。　Those　walls　out　there　and　the　road…man　with　a　spadelittle　boy　walking　with　himchatteringit's　going　to　be　hot。　The　light　across　the　lawn　is　almost　blue　and　the　beds　are　dry。　His　room。　The　looking…glass。　Always　tilts　back　when　one　tries　to　see　one's　hair。　Meant　to　speak　about　it。　Martin。　Ill。　Paris。　Paris。　Trains。　Boats。　How　quickly　could　one　be　there？　No　time　at　all。　Paris。　Never　been　to　Paris。　Perhaps　he　isn't　there　now　。　。　。

At　that　definite　picture　she　controlled　her　mind　again。　She　pulled　it　up　as　a　driver　drags　back　a　restive　horse。　Her　first　real　thought　was：　〃How　hard　that　this　letter　should　have　come　now　when　I　was　just　going　to　put　everything　right　with　Paul。〃　Her　next：　〃Poor　Paul！　But　I　don't　care　for　him　a　bit　。　。　。　I　don't　care　for　any　one　but　Martin。　I　never　did。〃　Her　next：　〃Why　did　I　ever　think　I　did？〃　And　her　next：　〃Why　did　I　ever　do　this？〃　She　knew　with　a　strange　calm　certainty　that　from　this　moment　she　would　never　be　rid　of　Martin's　presence　again。　She　had　maintained　for　more　than　a　year　a　wonderful　make…believe　of　indifference。　She　had　fancied　that　by；　pushing　furiously　with　both　hands　one　could　drive　things　into　the　past。　But　Fate　was　cleverer　than　that。　What　he　wanted　to　keep　he　kept　for　you…　…the　weaving　of　the　pattern　in　the　carpet　might　be　your　handiwork；　but　the　final　design　was　settled　before　ever　the　carpet　was　begun。　Not　that　any　of　these　fine　thoughts　ever　entered　Maggie's　head。　All　that　she　thought　was　〃I　love　Martin。　I　want　to　go　to　him。　He's　ill。　I've　got　to　do　my　duty　about　Paul。〃　She　settled　upon　that　last　point。　She　bound　her　mind　around　it；　fast　and　secure　like　thick　cord。　She　put　Mr。　Magnus'　letter　away　in　the　shell…covered　box；　the　wedding…present　from　the　aunts；　in　this　box　were　the　programme　of　the　play　that　she　had　been　to　with　Martin；　the　ring　with　the　three　pearls；　Martin's　few　letters；　and　some　petals　of　the　chrysanthemum；　dry　and　faded；　that　she　had　worn　on　the　great　day　of　the　matinee。　Something　had　warned　her　that　it　was　foolish　to　keep　Martin's　letters；　but　why　should　she　not？　She　had　never　hidden　her　love　for　Martin。　Then；　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　close　beside　the　large　double…bed；　with　a　football…group　and　〃The　Crucifixion〃　staring　down　upon　her；　she　had　her　worst　hour。　Nothing　in　all　life　could　have　moved　her　as　did　that　picture　of　Martin's　loneliness　and　sickness。　Wave　after　wave　of　persuasion　swept　over　her：　〃Go！　Go　now！　Take　the　train　to　Paris。　You　can　find　out　from　Mr。　Magnus　where　he　was　living。　He　is　sick。　He　needs　you。　You　swore　to　him　that　you　would　never　desert　him；　and　you　have　deserted　him。　They　don't　want　you　here。　Grace　hates　you；　and　Paul　is　too　lazy　to　care！〃

At　the　thought　of　Paul　resolution　came　to　her。　She　looked　up　at　the　rather　fat；　amiable　youth　with　the　stout　legs　and　the　bare　knees　in　the　football　photograph；　and　prayed　to　it：　〃Paul；　I'm　very　lonely　and　tempted。　Care　for　me　even　though　I　can't　love　you　as　you　want。　Don't　give　me　up　because　I　can't　let　you　have　what　some　one　else　has　got。　Let's　be　happy；　Paulplease。〃

She　was　shivering。　She　looked　back　with　a　terrified；　reluctant　glance　to　the　drawer　where　Mr。　Magnus'　letter　was；　then　she　went　downstairs。

Soon　after　they　started　for　Little　Harben。　The　last　days　in　Skeaton　had　scarcely　been　happy　ones。　Grace　had　erected　an　elaborate　scaffolding　of　offended　dignity　and　bitter　misery。　She　was　not　bitterly　miserable；　indeed　she　enjoyed　her　game；　but　it　was　depressing　to　watch　Paul　give　way　to　her。　He　was　determined　to　leave　her　in　a　happy　mind。　Any　one　could　have　told　him　that　the　way　to　do　that　was　to　leave　her　alone　altogether。　Instead　he　petted　her；　persuading　her　to　eat　her　favourite　pudding；　buying　her　a　new　work…　box　that　she　needed；　dismissing　a　boy　from　the　choir　（the　only　treble　who　was　a　treble）　because　he　was　supposed　to　have　made　a　long…nose　at　Grace　during　choir…practice。

Ht　adopted　also　a　pleading　line　with　her。　〃Now；　Grace　dear；　don't　you　think　you　could　manage　a　little　bit　more？〃

〃Do　you　think　you　ought　to　go　out　in　all　this　rain；　Grace　dear？〃

〃Grace；　you　look　tired　to　death。　Shall　I　read　to　you　a　little？〃

He　listened　to　her　stories　with　a　new　elaborate　attention。　He　laughed　heartily　at　the　very　faintest　glimmer　of　a　joke。　Through　it　all　Grace　maintained　an　unreleased　solemnity；　a　mournful　superiority；　a　grim　forbearance。

Maggie；　watching；　felt　with　a　sinking　heart　that　she　was　beginning　to　despise　Paul。

His　very　movement　as　he　hurried　to　place　a　cushion　for　Grace　sent　a　little　shiver　down　her　back。　〃Oh；　don't　do　it；　Paul！〃　she　heard　herself　cry　internally；　but　she　could　say　nothing。　She　had　won　her　victory　about　Harben。　She　could　only　now　be　silent。　Still；　she　bore　no　grudge　at　all　against　Grace。　She　even　liked　her。

Grace　made　many　sinister　allusions　to　her　fancied　departure。　〃Ah；　in　November　。　。　。　Oh！　of　course　I　shall　not　be　here　then！〃　or；　〃That　will　be　in　the　autumn　then；　won't　it？　You'd　better　give　it　to　some　one　who　will　be　here　at　the　time。〃　With　every　allusion　she　scored　a　victory。　It　was　evident　that　Paul　was　terrified　by　the　thought　that　she　should　leave　him。　He　did　not　see　what　he　would　do　without　her。　His　world　would　tumble　to　pieces。

〃But　she　hasn't　the　remotest　intention　of　going；〃　said　Maggie。　〃She'll　never　go。〃

〃Well；　I　don't　know。　It　would　be　strange　without　her；　Maggie；　I　must　confess。　You　see；　all　our　lives　we've　been　togetherall　our　lives。〃

Nevertheless　he　felt　perhaps　some　relief；　in　spite　of　himself；　when　they　were　safely　in　a　train　for　Little　Harben。　It　was　rather　a　relief；　just　for　a　day　or　two；　not　to　see　Grace's　reproachful　face。　Yes；　it　was。　He　was　quite　gay；　almost　like　the　boy　he　used　to　be。　Little　Harben　was　one　of　the　smallest　villages　in　Wiltshire　and　its　Rectory　one　of　the　most　dilapidated。　The　Rectory　was　sunk　into　the　very　bottom　of　a　green　well。　Green　hills　rose　on　every　side　above　it；　green　woods　pressed　in　all　around　it；　a　wild；　deserted　green　garden　crept　up　to　the　windows　and　clambered　about　the　old　walls。　There　was　hardly　any　furniture　in　the　house；　and　many　many　windows　all　without　curtains。　Long　looking…glasses　reflected　the　green　garden　at　every　possible　angle　so　that　all　the　lights　and　shadows　in　the　house　were　green。　There　was　a　cat　with　green　eyes；　and　the　old　servant　was　so　aged　and　infirm　that　she　was；　spiritually　if　not　physically；　covered　with　green　moss。

From　their　bedroom　they　could　see　the　long　green　slope　of　the　hill。　Everywhere　there　was　a　noise　of　birds　nestling　amongst　the　leaves；　of　invisible　streams　running　through　the　grass；　of　branches　mysteriously　cracking；　and；　always；　in　the　distance　some　one　seemed　to　be　chopping　with　an　axe。　If　you　pushed　a　window　open　multitudes　of　little　insects　fell　in　showers　about　you。　All　the　roses　were　eaten　with　green　flies。

〃What　a　place！〃　said　Maggie；　nevertheless　it　was　rather　agreeable　after　the　sand　of　Skeaton。

During　the　first　three　days　they　preserved　their　attitude　of　friendly　distance。　On　the　fourth　evening　Maggie　desperately　flung　down　her　challenge。　They　were　sitting；　after　supper；　in　the　wild　deserted　garden。　It　was　a　wonderful　evening；　faintly　blue　and　dim　crocus　with　flickering　silver　stars。　The　last　birds　twittered　in　the　woods；　the　green　arc　of　the　hill　against　the　evening　sky　had　a　great　majesty　of　repose　and　rest。　〃Now；　Paul！〃　said　Maggie。

〃What　is　it；　dear？〃　but　he　slowly　changed　colour　and　looked　away　from　her；　out　into　the　wood。

〃We've　got　to　face　it　some　time；〃　she　said。　〃The　sooner；　then；　the　better〃

〃Face　what？〃　he　asked；　dropping　his　voice　as　though　he　were　afraid　that　some　one　would　overhear。

〃You　and　me。〃　Maggie　gathered　her　resources　together。　〃Before　we　were　married　we　were　great　friends。　You　were　the　greatest　friend　I　ever　had　except　Uncle　Mathew。　And　now　I　don't　know　what　we　are。〃

〃Whose　fault　is　that？〃　he　asked　huskily。　〃You　know　what　the　matter　is。　You　don't　love　me。　You　never　have　。　。　。　Have　you？〃　He　suddenly　ended；　turning　towards　her。

She　saw　his　new　eagerness　and　she　was　frightened；　but　she　looked　at　a　little　bunch　of　stars　that　twinkled　at　her　above　the　dark　elms　and　took　courage。

〃I'm　very　bad　at　explaining　my　feelings；〃　she　said。　〃And　you're　not　very　good　either；　Paul。　I　know　I　am　very　fond　of　you；　and　I　feel　as　though　it　ought　to　be　so　simple　if　I　were　wiser　or　kinder。　I've　been　thinking　for　weeks　about　this；　and　I　want　to　say　that　I'm　ready　to　do　anything　that　will　make　you　happy。〃

〃You'll　love　me？〃　he　asked。

〃I'm　very　fond　of　you；　and　I　always　will　be。〃

〃No；　but　love。〃

〃A　word　like　that　isn't　important。　Affection〃

〃No。　It's　love　I　want。〃

She　turned　away　from　him；　pressing　her　hands　together；　staring　into　the　wood　that　was　sinking　into　avenues　of　dark。　She　couldn't　answer　him。　He　came　over　to　her。　He　knelt　on　the　dry　grass；　took　her　head　between　his　hands；　and　kissed　her　again　and　again　and　again。

She　heard　him　murmur：　〃Maggie　。　。　。　　Maggie　。　。　。　　Maggie。　You　must　love　me。　You　must。　I've　waited　so　long。　I　didn't　know　what　love　was。　God　in　His　Mercy　forgive　me　for　the　thoughts　I've　had　this　year。　You've　tormented　me。　Tantalised　me。　You're　a　witch。　A　witch。　You're　so　strange；　so　odd；　so　unlike　any　one。　You've　enchanted　me。　Love　me。　Maggie　。　。　。　Love　me　。　。　。　Love　me。〃

She　caught　his　words　all　broken　and　scattered。　She　felt　his　heart　beating　against　her　body；　and　his　hands　were　hot　to　the　touch　of　her　cold　cheek。　She　felt　that　he　was　desperate　and　ashamed　and　pitiful。　She　felt；　above　all　else；　that　she　must　respondand　she　could　not。　She　strove　to　give　him　what　he　needed。　She　caught　his　hands；　and　then；　because　she　knew　that　she　was　acting　falsely　and　the　whole　of　her　nature　was　in　rebellion；　she　drew　back。　He　felt　her　withdraw。　His　hands　dropped。

She　burst　into　tears；　suddenly　hiding　her　face　in　her　hands　as　she　used　to　do　when　she　was　a　little　girl。

〃Oh；　Paul；〃　she　wept。　〃I'm　so　sorry。　I'm　so　sorry。　I'm　wicked。　I　can't〃

He　got　up　and　stood　with　his　back　to　her；　looking　towards　the　night　sky　that　flashed　now　with　stars。

She　controlled　herself；　feeling　desperately　that　their　whole　future　together　hung　on　the　approaching　minutes。　She　went　up　to　him。　standing　at　first　timidly　behind　him；　then　putting