the turn of the screw-第7章

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and　without　exciting　remark　any　domestic　complications。

The　shock　I　had　suffered　must　have　sharpened　all　my　senses；

I　felt　sure；　at　the　end　of　three　days　and　as　the　result

of　mere　closer　attention；　that　I　had　not　been　practiced

upon　by　the　servants　nor　made　the　object　of　any　〃game。〃

Of　whatever　it　was　that　I　knew；　nothing　was　known　around　me。

There　was　but　one　sane　inference：　　someone　had　taken

a　liberty　rather　gross。　　That　was　what；　repeatedly；　I　dipped

into　my　room　and　locked　the　door　to　say　to　myself。

We　had　been；　collectively；　subject　to　an　intrusion；

some　unscrupulous　traveler；　curious　in　old　houses；　had　made

his　way　in　unobserved；　enjoyed　the　prospect　from　the　best　point

of　view；　and　then　stolen　out　as　he　came。　　If　he　had　given　me

such　a　bold　hard　stare；　that　was　but　a　part　of　his　indiscretion。

The　good　thing；　after　all；　was　that　we　should　surely　see

no　more　of　him。



This　was　not　so　good　a　thing；　I　admit；　as　not　to　leave　me　to　judge　that　what；

essentially；　made　nothing　else　much　signify　was　simply　my　charming　work。

My　charming　work　was　just　my　life　with　Miles　and　Flora；　and　through　nothing

could　I　so　like　it　as　through　feeling　that　I　could　throw　myself　into　it

in　trouble。　　The　attraction　of　my　small　charges　was　a　constant　joy；

leading　me　to　wonder　afresh　at　the　vanity　of　my　original　fears；　the　distaste

I　had　begun　by　entertaining　for　the　probable　gray　prose　of　my　office。

There　was　to　be　no　gray　prose；　it　appeared；　and　no　long　grind；

so　how　could　work　not　be　charming　that　presented　itself　as　daily　beauty？

It　was　all　the　romance　of　the　nursery　and　the　poetry　of　the　schoolroom。

I　don't　mean　by　this；　of　course；　that　we　studied　only　fiction

and　verse；　I　mean　I　can　express　no　otherwise　the　sort　of　interest

my　companions　inspired。　　How　can　I　describe　that　except　by　saying　that

instead　of　growing　used　to　themand　it's　a　marvel　for　a　governess：

I　call　the　sisterhood　to　witness！I　made　constant　fresh　discoveries。

There　was　one　direction；　assuredly；　in　which　these　discoveries　stopped：

deep　obscurity　continued　to　cover　the　region　of　the　boy's　conduct　at　school。

It　had　been　promptly　given　me；　I　have　noted；　to　face　that　mystery　without

a　pang。　　Perhaps　even　it　would　be　nearer　the　truth　to　say　thatwithout

a　wordhe　himself　had　cleared　it　up。　　He　had　made　the　whole　charge　absurd。

My　conclusion　bloomed　there　with　the　real　rose　flush　of　his　innocence：

he　was　only　too　fine　and　fair　for　the　little　horrid；　unclean　school　world；

and　he　had　paid　a　price　for　it。　　I　reflected　acutely　that　the　sense

of　such　differences；　such　superiorities　of　quality；　always；　on　the　part

of　the　majoritywhich　could　include　even　stupid；　sordid　headmasters

turn　infallibly　to　the　vindictive。



Both　the　children　had　a　gentleness　（it　was　their　only　fault；

and　it　never　made　Miles　a　muff）　that　kept　themhow　shall　I

express　it？almost　impersonal　and　certainly　quite　unpunishable。

They　were　like　the　cherubs　of　the　anecdote；　who　had

morally；　at　any　ratenothing　to　whack！　　I　remember　feeling

with　Miles　in　especial　as　if　he　had　had；　as　it　were；　no　history。

We　expect　of　a　small　child　a　scant　one；　but　there　was　in　this

beautiful　little　boy　something　extraordinarily　sensitive；

yet　extraordinarily　happy；　that；　more　than　in　any　creature

of　his　age　I　have　seen；　struck　me　as　beginning　anew　each　day。

He　had　never　for　a　second　suffered。　　I　took　this　as　a

direct　disproof　of　his　having　really　been　chastised。

If　he　had　been　wicked　he　would　have　〃caught〃　it；　and　I　should

have　caught　it　by　the　reboundI　should　have　found　the　trace。

I　found　nothing　at　all；　and　he　was　therefore　an　angel。

He　never　spoke　of　his　school；　never　mentioned　a　comrade　or　a　master；

and　I；　for　my　part；　was　quite　too　much　disgusted　to　allude　to　them。

Of　course　I　was　under　the　spell；　and　the　wonderful　part

is　that；　even　at　the　time；　I　perfectly　knew　I　was。

But　I　gave　myself　up　to　it；　it　was　an　antidote　to　any　pain；

and　I　had　more　pains　than　one。　　I　was　in　receipt　in　these　days

of　disturbing　letters　from　home；　where　things　were　not　going　well。

But　with　my　children；　what　things　in　the　world　mattered？

That　was　the　question　I　used　to　put　to　my　scrappy　retirements。

I　was　dazzled　by　their　loveliness。



There　was　a　Sundayto　get　onwhen　it　rained　with　such　force

and　for　so　many　hours　that　there　could　be　no　procession　to　church；

in　consequence　of　which；　as　the　day　declined；　I　had　arranged

with　Mrs。　Grose　that；　should　the　evening　show　improvement；

we　would　attend　together　the　late　service。　　The　rain　happily　stopped；

and　I　prepared　for　our　walk；　which；　through　the　park　and　by　the

good　road　to　the　village；　would　be　a　matter　of　twenty　minutes。

Coming　downstairs　to　meet　my　colleague　in　the　hall；　I　remembered　a　pair

of　gloves　that　had　required　three　stitches　and　that　had　received　them

with　a　publicity　perhaps　not　edifyingwhile　I　sat　with　the　children

at　their　tea；　served　on　Sundays；　by　exception；　in　that　cold；

clean　temple　of　mahogany　and　brass；　the　〃grown…up〃　dining　room。

The　gloves　had　been　dropped　there；　and　I　turned　in　to　recover　them。

The　day　was　gray　enough；　but　the　afternoon　light　still　lingered；

and　it　enabled　me；　on　crossing　the　threshold；　not　only　to　recognize；

on　a　chair　near　the　wide　window；　then　closed；　the　articles　I　wanted；

but　to　become　aware　of　a　person　on　the　other　side　of　the　window

and　looking　straight　in。　　One　step　into　the　room　had　sufficed；

my　vision　was　instantaneous；　it　was　all　there。　　The　person　looking

straight　in　was　the　person　who　had　already　appeared　to　me。

He　appeared　thus　again　with　I　won't　say　greater　distinctness；

for　that　was　impossible；　but　with　a　nearness　that　represented

a　forward　stride　in　our　intercourse　and　made　me；　as　I　met　him；

catch　my　breath　and　turn　cold。　　He　was　the　samehe　was　the　same；

and　seen；　this　time；　as　he　had　been　seen　before；　from　the　waist　up；

the　window；　though　the　dining　room　was　on　the　ground　floor；　not　going

down　to　the　terrace　on　which　he　stood。　　His　face　was　close　to　the　glass；

yet　the　effect　of　this　better　view　was；　strangely；　only　to　show　me

how　intense　the　former　had　been。　　He　remained　but　a　few　seconds

long　enough　to　convince　me　he　also　saw　and　recognized；　but　it　was

as　if　I　had　been　looking　at　him　for　years　and　had　known　him　always。

Something；　however；　happened　this　time　that　had　not　happened　before；

his　stare　into　my　face；　through　the　glass　and　across　the　room；

was　as　deep　and　hard　as　then；　but　it　quitted　me　for　a　moment

during　which　I　could　still　watch　it；　see　it　fix　successively

several　other　things。　　On　the　spot　there　came　to　me　the　added

shock　of　a　certitude　that　it　was　not　for　me　he　had　come　there。

He　had　come　for　someone　else。



The　flash　of　this　knowledgefor　it　was　knowledge　in　the　midst

of　dreadproduced　in　me　the　most　extraordinary　effect；

started　as　I　stood　there；　a　sudden　vibration　of　duty　and　courage。

I　say　courage　because　I　was　beyond　all　doubt　already　far　gone。

I　bounded　straight　out　of　the　door　again；　reached　that　of　the　house；

got；　in　an　instant；　upon　the　drive；　and；　passing　along　the　terrace

as　fast　as　I　could　rush；　turned　a　corner　and　came　full　in　sight。

But　it　was　in　sight　of　nothing　nowmy　visitor　had　vanished。

I　stopped；　I　almost　dropped；　with　the　real　relief　of　this；

but　I　took　in　the　whole　sceneI　gave　him　time　to　reappear。

I　call　it　time；　but　how　long　was　it？　　I　can't　speak

to　the　purpose　today　of　the　duration　of　these　things。

That　kind　of　measure　must　have　left　me：　　they　couldn't

have　lasted　as　they　actually　appeared　to　me　to　last。

The　terrace　and　the　whole　place；　the　lawn　and　the　garden　beyond　it；

all　I　could　see　of　the　park；　were　empty　with　a　great　emptiness。

There　were　shrubberies　and　big　trees；　but　I　remember

the　clear　assurance　I　felt　that　none　of　them　concealed　him。

He　was　there　or　was　not　there：　　not　there　if　I　didn't　see　him。

I　got　hold　of　this；　then；　instinctively；　instead　of　returning

as　I　had　come；　went　to　the　window。　　It　was　confusedly　present

to　me　that　I　ought　to　place