cw.imarriedadeadman-第28章

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　the　peace　there；　and　he's　going　to　make　us　man　and　wife。〃
　He　slowed　the　car　as　her　head　lurched　soddenly　back　over　the　top　of　the　seat　for　a　moment。
　〃I　didn't　think　they　swooned　any　more…〃　he　began。　Then　as　he　saw　her　straighten　again　with　an　effort　and　pass　the　back　of　her　hand　blurredly　before　her　eyes；　he　added：　〃Oh；　I　see　they　don't；　they　just　get　a　little　dizzy；　is　that　it？〃
　〃Why　are　you　doing　this　to　me？〃　she　said　smotheredJy。
　〃There　are　several　good　reasons　I　can　think　of。　It's　a　good　deal　safer；　from　my　point　of　view；　than　the　basis　we've　been　going　on　so　far。　There's　no　chance　of　anything　backfiring。　A　wife；　the　law…books　say；　cannot　testify　against　her　husband。　That　means　that　any　lawyer　worth　his　fee　can　whisk　you　off　the　stand　before　you　can　so　much　as　open　your　mouth。　And　then　there　are　more　practical　considerations。　The　old　couple　aren't　going　to　be　around　forever；　you　know。　The　old　lady's　life　is　hanging　by　a　thread。　And　the　old　man　won't　last　any　time　without　her。　Old　Faithful；　I　know　the　type。　When　they　go；　you　and　Bill　share　unequally　between　you…　Don't　look　so　horrified；　that　lawyer　of　theirs　hasn't　exactly　talked；　but　this　is　a　small　town；　those　things　sort　of　seep　around　without　even　benefit　of　wordof…mouth。　I　can　wait　that　year；　or　even　two　or　three　if　I　have　to。　The　law　gives　a　husband　one…third　of　his　wife's　property。　Three…quarters　of…I　may　be　underestimating；　but　roughly　I'd　say　four　hundred　thousand；　that's　three　hundred　thousand。　And　then　a　third　of　that　again…　Don't　cover　your　ears　like　that；　Patrice；　you　look　like　someone　out　of　a　Marie　Corelli　novel。〃
　He　braked。　〃You　can　get　out　here；　Patrice。　This　is　close　enough。〃　And　then　he　chuckled　a　little；　watching　her　flounder　to　the　pavement。　〃Are　you　sure　you're　able　to　walk　steady？　I　wouldn't　want　to　have　them　think　I'd　plied　you　with…〃
　The　last　thing　he　said　was；　〃Make　sure　your　clock　isn't　slow；　Patrice。　Because　the　United　States　Mail　is　always　on　time。〃
　
　
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　The　headlight…beams　of　his　car　kept　slashing　up　the　road　ahead　of　them　like　ploughshares；　seeming　to　cast　aside　its　topsoil　of　darkness；　reveal　its　borax…like　white　fill；　and　spill　that　out　all　over　the　roadway。　Then　behind　them　the　livid　furrows　would　heal　again　into　immediate　darkness。
　It　seemed　hours　they'd　been　driving　like　this；　in　silence　yet　acutely　aware　of　one　another。　Trees　went　by；　dimly　lit　up　from　below；　along　their　trunks；　by　the　passing　reflection　of　their　headlight…wash；　into　a　sort　of　ghostly　incandescence。　Then　at　times　there　weren't　any　trees；　they　fell　back；　and　a　plushy　black　evenness　took　their　place…fields　or　meadows；　she　supposed…that　smelled　sweeter。　Clover。　It　was　beautiful　country　around　here；　too　beautiful　for　anyone　to　be　in　such　a　hell　of　suffering　in　the　midst　of　it。
　Roads　branched　off　at　times；　too；　but　they　never　took　them。　They　kept　to　this　wide；　straight　one　they　were　on。
　They　passed　an　indirectly　lighted　white　sign；　placed　at　right　angles　to　the　road　so　that　it　could　be　read　as　you　came　up　to　it。　It　said　〃Wele　to　Hastings；〃　and　then　underneath；　〃Population…〃　and　some　figures　too　small　to　catch　before　they　had　already　gone　by。
　She　glanced　briefly　after　it；　in　a　sort　of　fascinated　horror。
　He'd　apparently　seen　her　do　it；　without　looking　directly　at　her。　〃That's　across　the　State　line；〃　he　remarked　drily。　〃Travel　broadens　one；　they　say。〃　It　was　nine　forty…five　now　according　to　her　wristwatch。　It　had　taken　them　only　half　an　hour's　drive　to　get　here。
　They　passed　through　the　town's　nuclear　main　square。　A　drugstore　was　still　open；　two　of　the　old…fashioned　jars　of　colored　water　that　all　drugstore…windows　featured　once　upon　a　time　flashing　emerald　and　mauve　at　them　as　they　went　by。　A　motion…picture　theatre　was　still　alive　inside；　but　dying　fast　externally；　its　marquee　already　dark；　its　lobby　dim。
　He　turned　up　one　of　the　side　streets；　a　tunnel　under　leafy　shade　trees；　its　houses　all　set　back　a　lawn…spaced　distance　so　that　they　were　almost　invisible　in　the　night…shade　from　the　roadway。　A　dim　light　peering　through　from　under　the　recesses　of　an　ivy…covered　porch　seemed　to　attract　him。　He　shunted　over　to　the　walk　suddenly；　and　back　a　little；　and　stopped　opposite　it。
　They　sat　for　awhile。
　Then　he　got　out　on　his　side；　came　around　to　hers；　and　opened　the　door　beside　her。
　〃e　in；〃　he　said　briefly。
　She　didn't　move；　she　didn't　answer。
　〃e　on　in　with　me。　They're　waiting。〃
　She　didn't　answer；　didn't　move。
　〃Don't　just　sit　there　like　that。　We　had　this　all　out　before；　back　at　Caulfield。　Move。　Say　something；　will　you？〃
　〃What　do　you　want　me　to　say？〃
　He　gave　the　door　an　impatient　slap…to　again；　as　if　in　momentary　reprieve。　〃Get　yourself　together。　I'll　go　over　and　let　them　know　we　got　here。〃
　She　watched　him　go；　in　a　sort　of　stupor；　as　though　this　were　happening　to　someone　else；　heard　his　tread　go　up　the　wooden　plankwalk　that　led　up　to　the　house。　She　could　even　hear　the　ring　of　the　bell；　from　within　the　house；　all　the　way　out　here　where　she　was。　It　was　no　wonder；　it　was　so　quiet。　Just　little　winged　things　buzzing　and　humming　in　a　tree　overhead。
　She　wondered：　How　does　he　know　I　won't　suddenly　start　the　car　and　drive　off？　She　answered　that　herself：　He　knows　I　won't。　He　knows　it's　too　late　for　that　As　I　know　it。　The　time　for　stopping；　for　drawing　back；　for　dashing　off；　that　was　long　ago。　So　long　ago。　Long　before　tonight。　That　was　in　the　partment　on　the　train　ing　here；　when　the　wheels　tried　to　warn　me。　That　was　when　the　first　note　came。　That　was　when　the　first　phone…call　came；　the　first　walk　down　to　the　drugstore。　I　am　as　safely　held　fast　here　as　though　I　were　manacled　to　him。
　She　could　hear　their　voices　now。　A　woman　saying；　〃No；　not　at　all；　you　made　very　good　time。　e　right　in。〃
　The　doorway　remained　open；　lighted。　Whoever　had　been　standing　in　it　had　withdrawn　into　the　house。　He　was　ing　back　toward　her　now。　The　sound　of　his　tread　along　the　wooden　walk。　She　gripped　the　edge　of　the　car…seat　with　her　hands；　dug　them　in　under　the　leather　cushions。
　He　was　up　to　her　now；　standing　there。
　〃e　on；　Patrice；〃　he　said　casually。
　That　was　the　full　horror　of　it；　his　casualness；　his　matter…of…factness。　He　wasn't　acting　the　part。
　She　spoke　quietly　too；　as　quietly　as　he；　but　her　voice　was　as　thin　and　blurred　as　a　thrumming　wire。
　〃I　can't　do　it。　Georgesson；　don't　ask　me　to　do　this。〃
　〃Patrice；　we've　been　all　over　this。　I　told　you　the　other　night；　and　it　was　all　settled　then。〃
　She　covered　her　face　with　cupped　hands；　quickly　uncovered　it　again。　She　kept　using　the　same　four　words；　they　were　the　only　ones　she　could　think　of。　〃But　I　can't　do　it。　Don't　you　understand？　I　can't　do　it。〃
　〃There's　no　impediment　You're　not　married　to　anyone。　Even　in　your　assumed　character；　you're　not　married　to　anyone；　much　less　as　yourself。　I　investigated　all　that　in　New　York。〃
　〃Steve。　Listen；　I'm　calling　you　Steve。〃
　〃That　doesn't　melt　me；〃　he　assured　her　jocosely。　〃That's　my　name；　I'm　supposed　to　be　called　that〃　He　lidded　his　eyes　at　her。　〃It's　my　given　name；　not　one　that　I　took　for　myself…Patrice。〃
　〃Steve；　I've　never　pleaded　with　you　before。　In　all　these　months；　I've　taken　it　like　a　woman。　Steve；　if　there's　anything　human　in　you　at　all　I　can　appeal　to…〃

　〃I'm　only　too　human。　That's　why　I　like　money　as　much　as　I　do。　But　your　wires　are　crossed。　It's　my　very　humanness；　for　that　reason；　that　makes　your　appeal　useless。　e　on；　Patrice。　You're　wasting　time。〃
　She　cowered　away　edgewise　along　the　seat。　He　drummed　his　fingers　on　the　top　of　the　door　and　laughed　a　little。
　〃Why　this　horror　of　marriage？　Let　me　get　to　the　bottom　of　your　aversion。　Maybe　I　can　reassure　you。　There　is　no　personal　appeal　involved；　you　haven't　any　for　me。　I've　got　only　contempt　for　you；　for　being　the　cheap；　tricky　little　fool　you　are。　I'm　leaving　you　on　the　doorstep　of　your　ever…loving　family　again；　just　as　soon　as　we　get　back　to　Caulfield。　This　is　going　to　be　a　paper　marriage；　in　every　sense　of　the　word。　But　it's　going　to　stick；　it's　going　to　stick　to　the　bitter　end。　Now　does　that　take　care　of　your　mid…Victorian　qualms？〃
　She　cast　the　back　of　her　hand　across　her　eyes　as　though　a　blow　had　just　blinded　her。
　He　wrenched　the　door　open。
　〃They're　waiting