the island pharisees-第18章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！





Shelton　left　her　house　as　doubtful　whether　he　might　meet　Antonia　as

when　he　entered　it。　　He　spent　a　restless　afternoon。



The　next　daythat　of　her　arrivalwas　a　Sunday。　　He　had　made　Ferrand

a　promise　to　go　with　him　to　hear　a　sermon　in　the　slums；　and；　catching

at　any　diversion　which　might　allay　excitement；　he　fulfilled　it。　　The

preacher　in　questionan　amateur；　so　Ferrand　told　himhad　an

original　method　of　distributing　the　funds　that　he　obtained。　　To　male

sheep　he　gave　nothing；　to　ugly　female　sheep　a　very　little；　to　pretty

female　sheep　the　rest。　　Ferrand　hazarded　an　inference；　but　he　was　a

foreigner。　　The　Englishman　preferred　to　look　upon　the　preacher　as

guided　by　a　purely　abstract　love　of　beauty。　　His　eloquence；　at　any

rate；　was　unquestionable；　and　Shelton　came　out　feeling　sick。



It　was　not　yet　seven　o'clock；　so；　entering　an　Italian　restaurant　to

kill　the　half…hour　before　Antonia's　arrival；　he　ordered　a　bottle　of

wine　for　his　companion；　a　cup　of　coffee　for　himself；　and；　lighting　a

cigarette；　compressed　his　lips。　　There　was　a　strange；　sweet　sinking

in　his　heart。　　His　companion；　ignorant　of　this　emotion；　drank　his

wine；　crumbled　his　roll；　and　blew　smoke　through　his　nostrils；

glancing　caustically　at　the　rows　of　little　tables；　the　cheap　mirrors；

the　hot；　red　velvet；　the　chandeliers。　　His　juicy　lips　seemed　to　be

murmuring；　〃Ah！　if　you　only　knew　of　the　dirt　behind　these　feathers！〃

Shelton　watched　him　with　disgust。　　Though　his　clothes　were　now　so

nice；　his　nails　were　not　quite　clean；　and　his　fingertips　seemed

yellow　to　the　bone。　　An　anaemic　waiter　in　a　shirt　some　four　days　old；

with　grease…spots　on　his　garments　and　a　crumpled　napkin　on　his　arm；

stood　leaning　an　elbow　amongst　doubtful　fruits；　and　reading　an

Italian　journal。　　Resting　his　tired　feet　in　turn；　he　looked　like

overwork　personified；　and　when　he　moved；　each　limb　accused　the　sordid

smartness　of　the　walls。　　In　the　far　corner　sat　a　lady　eating；　and；

mirrored　opposite；　her　feathered　hat；　her　short；　round　face；　its　coat

of　powder；　and　dark　eyes；　gave　Shelton　a　shiver　of　disgust。　　His

companion's　gaze　rested　long　and　subtly　on　her。



〃Excuse　me；　monsieur；〃　he　said　at　length。　　〃I　think　I　know　that

lady！〃　　And；　leaving　his　host；　he　crossed　the　room；　bowed；　accosted

her；　and　sat　down。　　With　Pharisaic　delicacy；　Shelton　refrained　from

looking。　　But　presently　Ferrand　came　back；　the　lady　rose　and　left　the

restaurant；　she　had　been　crying。　　The　young　foreigner　was　flushed；

his　face　contorted；　he　did　not　touch　his　wine。



〃I　was　right；〃　he　said；　〃she　is　the　wife　of　an　old　friend。　　I　used　to

know　her　well。〃



He　was　suffering　from　emotion；　but　someone　less　absorbed　than　Shelton

might　have　noticed　a　kind　of　relish　in　his　voice；　as　though　he　were

savouring　life's　dishes；　and　glad　to　have　something　new；　and　spiced

with　tragic　sauce；　to　set　before　his　patron。



〃You　can　find　her　story　by　the　hundred　in　your　streets；　but　nothing

hinders　these　paragons　of　virtue〃he　nodded　at　the　stream　of

carriages〃from　turning　up　their　eyes　when　they　see　ladies　of　her

sort　pass。　　She　came　to　Londonjust　three　years　ago。　　After　a　year

one　of　her　little　boys　took　feverthe　shop　was　avoidedher　husband

caught　it；　and　died。　　There　she　was；　left　with　two　children　and

everything　gone　to　pay　the　debts。　　She　tried　to　get　work；　no　one

helped　her。　　There　was　no　money　to　pay　anyone　to　stay　with　the

children；　all　the　work　she　could　get　in　the　house　was　not　enough　to

keep　them　alive。　　She's　not　a　strong　woman。　　Well；　she　put　the

children　out　to　nurse；　and　went　to　the　streets。　　The　first　week　was

frightful；　but　now　she's　used　to　itone　gets　used　to　anything。〃



〃Can　nothing　be　done？〃　asked　Shelton；　startled。



〃No；〃　returned　his　companion。　　〃I　know　that　sort；　if　they　once　take

to　it　all's　over。　　They　get　used　to　luxury。　　One　does　n't　part　with

luxury；　after　tasting　destitution。　　She　tells　me　she　does　very

nicely；　the　children　are　happy；　she's　able　to　pay　well　and　see　them

sometimes。　　She　was　a　girl　of　good　family；　too；　who　loved　her

husband；　and　gave　up　much　for　him。　　What　would　you　have？　　Three

quarters　of　your　virtuous　ladies　placed　in　her　position　would　do　the

same　if　they　had　the　necessary　looks。〃



It　was　evident　that　he　felt　the　shock　of　this　discovery；　and　Shelton

understood　that　personal　acquaintance　makes　a　difference；　even　in　a

vagabond。



〃This　is　her　beat；〃　said　the　young　foreigner；　as　they　passed　the

illuminated　crescent；　where　nightly　the　shadows　of　hypocrites　and

women　fall；　and　Shelton　went　from　these　comments　on　Christianity　to

the　station　of　Charing　Cross。　　There；　as　he　stood　waiting　in　the

shadow；　his　heart　was　in　his　mouth；　and　it　struck　him　as　odd　that　he

should　have　come　to　this　meeting　fresh　from　a　vagabond's　society。



Presently；　amongst　the　stream　of　travellers；　he　saw　Antonia。　　She　was

close　to　her　mother；　who　was　parleying　with　a　footman；　behind　them

were　a　maid　carrying　a　bandbox　and　a　porter　with　the　travelling…bags。

Antonia's　figure；　with　its　throat　settled　in　the　collar　of　her　cape；

slender；　tall；　severe；　looked　impatient　and　remote　amongst　the

bustle。　　Her　eyes；　shadowed　by　the　journey；　glanced　eagerly　about；

welcoming　all　she　saw；　a　wisp　of　hair　was　loose　above　her　ear；　her

cheeks　glowed　cold　and　rosy。　　She　caught　sight　of　Shelton；　and

bending　her　neck；　stag…like；　stood　looking　at　him；　a　brilliant　smile

parted　her　lips；　and　Shelton　trembled。　　Here　was　the　embodiment　of

all　he　had　desired　for　weeks。　　He　could　not　tell　what　was　behind　that

smile　of　herspassionate　aching　or　only　some　ideal；　some　chaste　and

glacial　intangibility。　　It　seemed　to　be　shining　past　him　into　the

gloomy　station。　　There　was　no　trembling　and　uncertainty；　no　rage　of

possession　in　that　brilliant　smile；　it　had　the　gleam　of　fixedness；

like　the　smiling　of　a　star。　　What　did　it　matter？　　She　was　there；

beautiful　as　a　young　day；　and　smiling　at　him；　and　she　was　his；　only

divided　from　him　by　a　space　of　time。　　He　took　a　step；　her　eyes　fell

at　once；　her　face　regained　aloofness；　he　saw　her；　encircled　by

mother；　footman；　maid；　and　porter；　take　her　seat　and　drive　away。

It　was　over；　she　had　seen　him；　she　had　smiled；　but　alongside　his

delight　lurked　another　feeling；　and；　by　a　bitter　freak；　not　her　face

came　up　before　him　but　the　face　of　that　lady　in　the　restaurant

short；　round；　and　powdered；　with　black…circled　eyes。　　What　right　had

we　to　scorn　them？　　Had　they　mothers；　footmen；　porters；　maids？　　He

shivered；　but　this　time　with　physical　disgust；　the　powdered　face　with

dark…fringed　eyes　had　vanished；　the　fair；　remote　figure　of　the

railway…station　came　back　again。



He　sat　long　over　dinner；　drinking；　dreaming；　he　sat　long　after；

smoking；　dreaming；　and　when　at　length　he　drove　away；　wine　and　dreams

fumed　in　his　brain。　　The　dance　of　lamps；　the　cream…cheese　moon；　the

rays　of　clean　wet　light　on　his　horse's　harness；　the　jingling　of　the

cab　bell；　the　whirring　wheels；　the　night　air　and　the　branchesit　was

all　so　good！　　He　threw　back　the　hansom　doors　to　feel　the　touch　of　the

warm　breeze。　　The　crowds　on　the　pavement　gave　him　strange　delight；

they　were　like　shadows；　in　some　great　illusion；　happy　shadows；

thronging；　wheeling　round　the　single　figure　of　his　world。









CHAPTER　XII



ROTTEN　ROW



With　a　headache　and　a　sense　of　restlessness；　hopeful　and　unhappy；

Shelton　mounted　his　hack　next　morning　for　a　gallop　in　the　Park。



In　the　sky　was　mingled　all　the　languor　and　the　violence　of　the

spring。　　The　trees　and　flowers　wore　an　awakened　look　in　the　gleams　of

light　that　came　stealing　down　from　behind　the　purple　of　the　clouds。

The　air　was　rain…washed；　and　the　passers　by　seemed　to　wear　an　air　of

tranquil　carelessness；　as　if　anxiety　were　paralysed　by　their

responsibility　of　the　firmament。



Thronged　by　riders；　the　Row　was　all　astir。



Near　to　Hyde　Park　Corner　a　figure　by　the　rails　caught　Shelton's　eye。

Straight　and　thin；　one　shoulder　humped　a　little；　as　if　its　owner　were