the beast in the jungle-第8章

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sense；　gave　the　scene　of　which　she　formed　part　a　smooth　and　ultimate　look；　an　air　of　knowing；　in　its　immaculate　order　and　cold　meaningless　cheer；　that　it　would　never　see　a　fire　again。　　Her　own　aspecthe　could　scarce　have　said　whyintensified　this　note。　Almost　as　white　as　wax；　with　the　marks　and　signs　in　her　face　as　numerous　and　as　fine　as　if　they　had　been　etched　by　a　needle；　with　soft　white　draperies　relieved　by　a　faded　green　scarf　on　the　delicate　tone　of　which　the　years　had　further　refined；　she　was　the　picture　of　a　serene　and　exquisite　but　impenetrable　sphinx；　whose　head；　or　indeed　all　whose　person；　might　have　been　powdered　with　silver。　　She　was　a　sphinx；　yet　with　her　white　petals　and　green　fronds　she　might　have　been　a　lily　tooonly　an　artificial　lily；　wonderfully　imitated　and　constantly　kept；　without　dust　or　stain；　though　not　exempt　from　a　slight　droop　and　a　complexity　of　faint　creases；　under　some　clear　glass　bell。　　The　perfection　of　household　care；　of　high　polish　and　finish；　always　reigned　in　her　rooms；　but　they　now　looked　most　as　if　everything　had　been　wound　up；　tucked　in；　put　away；　so　that　she　might　sit　with　folded　hands　and　with　nothing　more　to　do。　　She　was　〃out　of　it；〃　to　Marcher's　vision；　her　work　was　over；　she　communicated　with　him　as　across　some　gulf　or　from　some　island　of　rest　that　she　had　already　reached；　and　it　made　him　feel　strangely　abandoned。　　Was　itor　rather　wasn't　itthat　if　for　so　long　she　had　been　watching　with　him　the　answer　to　their　question　must　have　swum　into　her　ken　and　taken　on　its　name；　so　that　her　occupation　was　verily　gone？　　He　had　as　much　as　charged　her　with　this　in　saying　to　her；　many　months　before；　that　she　even　then　knew　something　she　was　keeping　from　him。　　It　was　a　point　he　had　never　since　ventured　to　press；　vaguely　fearing　as　he　did　that　it　might　become　a　difference；　perhaps　a　disagreement；　between　them。　　He　had　in　this　later　time　turned　nervous；　which　was　what　he　in　all　the　other　years　had　never　been；　and　the　oddity　was　that　his　nervousness　should　have　waited　till　he　had　begun　to　doubt；　should　have　held　off　so　long　as　he　was　sure。　　There　was　something；　it　seemed　to　him；　that　the　wrong　word　would　bring　down　on　his　head；　something　that　would　so　at　least　ease　off　his　tension。　　But　he　wanted　not　to　speak　the　wrong　word；　that　would　make　everything　ugly。　　He　wanted　the　knowledge　he　lacked　to　drop　on　him；　if　drop　it　could；　by　its　own　august　weight。　　If　she　was　to　forsake　him　it　was　surely　for　her　to　take　leave。　　This　was　why　he　didn't　directly　ask　her　again　what　she　knew；　but　it　was　also　why；　approaching　the　matter　from　another　side；　he　said　to　her　in　the　course　of　his　visit：　　〃What　do　you　regard　as　the　very　worst　that　at　this　time　of　day　CAN　happen　to　me？〃

He　had　asked　her　that　in　the　past　often　enough；　they　had；　with　the　odd　irregular　rhythm　of　their　intensities　and　avoidances；　exchanged　ideas　about　it　and　then　had　seen　the　ideas　washed　away　by　cool　intervals；　washed　like　figures　traced　in　sea…sand。　　It　had　ever　been　the　mark　of　their　talk　that　the　oldest　allusions　in　it　required　but　a　little　dismissal　and　reaction　to　come　out　again；　sounding　for　the　hour　as　new。　　She　could　thus　at　present　meet　his　enquiry　quite　freshly　and　patiently。　　〃Oh　yes；　I've　repeatedly　thought；　only　it　always　seemed　to　me　of　old　that　I　couldn't　quite　make　up　my　mind。　　I　thought　of　dreadful　things；　between　which　it　was　difficult　to　choose；　and　so　must　you　have　done。〃

〃Rather！　　I　feel　now　as　if　I　had　scarce　done　anything　else。　　I　appear　to　myself　to　have　spent　my　life　in　thinking　of　nothing　but　dreadful　things。　　A　great　many　of　them　I've　at　different　times　named　to　you；　but　there　were　others　I　couldn't　name。〃

〃They　were　too；　too　dreadful？〃

〃Too；　too　dreadfulsome　of　them。〃

She　looked　at　him　a　minute；　and　there　came　to　him　as　he　met　it；　an　inconsequent　sense　that　her　eyes；　when　one　got　their　full　clearness；　were　still　as　beautiful　as　they　had　been　in　youth；　only　beautiful　with　a　strange　cold　lighta　light　that　somehow　was　a　part　of　the　effect；　if　it　wasn't　rather　a　part　of　the　cause；　of　the　pale　hard　sweetness　of　the　season　and　the　hour。　　〃And　yet；〃　she　said　at　last；　〃there　are　horrors　we've　mentioned。〃

It　deepened　the　strangeness　to　see　her；　as　such　a　figure　in　such　a　picture；　talk　of　〃horrors；〃　but　she　was　to　do　in　a　few　minutes　something　stranger　yetthough　even　of　this　he　was　to　take　the　full　measure　but　afterwardsand　the　note　of　it　already　trembled。　　It　was；　for　the　matter　of　that；　one　of　the　signs　that　her　eyes　were　having　again　the　high　flicker　of　their　prime。　　He　had　to　admit；　however；　what　she　said。　　〃Oh　yes；　there　were　times　when　we　did　go　far。〃　　He　caught　himself　in　the　act　of　speaking　as　if　it　all　were　over。　　Well；　he　wished　it　were；　and　the　consummation　depended　for　him　clearly　more　and　more　on　his　friend。

But　she　had　now　a　soft　smile。　　〃Oh　far！〃

It　was　oddly　ironic。　　〃Do　you　mean　you're　prepared　to　go　further？〃

She　was　frail　and　ancient　and　charming　as　she　continued　to　look　at　him；　yet　it　was　rather　as　if　she　had　lost　the　thread。　　〃Do　you　consider　that　we　went　far？〃

〃Why　I　thought　it　the　point　you　were　just　makingthat　we　HAD　looked　most　things　in　the　face。〃

〃Including　each　other？〃　　She　still　smiled。　　〃But　you're　quite　right。　　We've　had　together　great　imaginations；　often　great　fears；　but　some　of　them　have　been　unspoken。〃

〃Then　the　worstwe　haven't　faced　that。　　I　COULD　face　it；　I　believe；　if　I　knew　what　you　think　it。　　I　feel；〃　he　explained；　〃as　if　I　had　lost　my　power　to　conceive　such　things。〃　　And　he　wondered　if　he　looked　as　blank　as　he　sounded。　　〃It's　spent。〃

〃Then　why　do　you　assume；〃　she　asked；　〃that　mine　isn't？〃

〃Because　you've　given　me　signs　to　the　contrary。　　It　isn't　a　question　for　you　of　conceiving；　imagining；　comparing。　　It　isn't　a　question　now　of　choosing。〃　　At　last　he　came　out　with　it。　　〃You　know　something　I　don't。　　You've　shown　me　that　before。〃

These　last　words　had　affected　her；　he　made　out　in　a　moment；　exceedingly；　and　she　spoke　with　firmness。　　〃I've　shown　you；　my　dear；　nothing。〃

He　shook　his　head。　　〃You　can't　hide　it。〃

〃Oh；　oh！〃　May　Bartram　sounded　over　what　she　couldn't　hide。　　It　was　almost　a　smothered　groan。

〃You　admitted　it　months　ago；　when　I　spoke　of　it　to　you　as　of　something　you　were　afraid　I　should　find　out。　　Your　answer　was　that　I　couldn't；　that　I　wouldn't；　and　I　don't　pretend　I　have。　　But　you　had　something　therefore　in　mind；　and　I　see　now　how　it　must　have　been；　how　it　still　is；　the　possibility　that；　of　all　possibilities；　has　settled　itself　for　you　as　the　worst。　　This；〃　he　went　on；　〃is　why　I　appeal　to　you。　　I'm　only　afraid　of　ignorance　to…dayI'm　not　afraid　of　knowledge。〃　　And　then　as　for　a　while　she　said　nothing：　〃What　makes　me　sure　is　that　I　see　in　your　face　and　feel　here；　in　this　air　and　amid　these　appearances；　that　you're　out　of　it。　　You've　done。　　You've　had　your　experience。　　You　leave　me　to　my　fate。〃

Well；　she　listened；　motionless　and　white　in　her　chair；　as　on　a　decision　to　be　made；　so　that　her　manner　was　fairly　an　avowal；　though　still；　with　a　small　fine　inner　stiffness；　an　imperfect　surrender。　　〃It　WOULD　be　the　worst；〃　she　finally　let　herself　say。　〃I　mean　the　thing　I've　never　said。〃

It　hushed　him　a　moment。　　〃More　monstrous　than　all　the　monstrosities　we've　named？〃

〃More　monstrous。　　Isn't　that　what　you　sufficiently　express；〃　she　asked；　〃in　calling　it　the　worst？〃

Marcher　thought。　　〃Assuredlyif　you　mean；　as　I　do；　something　that　includes　all　the　loss　and　all　the　shame　that　are　thinkable。〃

〃It　would　if　it　SHOULD　happen；〃　said　May　Bartram。　　〃What　we're　speaking　of；　remember；　is　only　my　idea。〃

〃It's　your　belief；〃　Marcher　returned。　　〃That's　enough　for　me。　　I　feel　your　beliefs　are　right。　　Therefore　if；　having　this　one；　you　give　me　no　more　light　on　it；　you　abandon　me。〃

〃No；　no！〃　she　repeated。　　〃I'm　with　youdon't　you　see？still。〃　And　as　to　make　it　more　vivid　to　him　she　rose　from　her　chaira　movement　she　seldom　risked　in　these　daysand　showed　herself；　all　draped　and　all　soft；　in　her　fairness　and　slimness。　　〃I　haven't　forsaken　you。〃

It　was　really；　in　its　effort　against　weakness；　a　generous　assurance；　and　had　the　success　of　the　impulse　not；　happily；　been　great；　it　would　have　touched　him　to　pain　more　than　to　pleasure。　But　the　cold　charm　in　her　eye