man of property-第77章

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》From　far　in　the　clear　air　the　bells　of　the　church　where　he　and　Irene　had　been　married　were　pealing　in　'practice'　for　the　advent　of　Christ；　the　chimes　ringing　out　above　the　sound　of　traffic。　　He　felt　a　craving　for　strong　drink；　to　lull　him　to　indifference；　or　rouse　him　to　fury。　　If　only　he　could　burst　out　of　himself；　out　of　this　web　that　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　felt　around　him。　If　only　he　could　surrender　to　the　thought：　'Divorce　herturn　her　out！　　She　has　forgotten　you。　　Forget　her！'

If　only　he　could　surrender　to　the　thought：　'Let　her　goshe　has　suffered　enough！'

If　only　he　could　surrender　to　the　desire：　'Make　a　slave　of　her　she　is　in　your　power！'

If　only　even　he　could　surrender　to　the　sudden　vision：　'What　does　it　all　matter？'　　Forget　himself　for　a　minute；　forget　that　it　mattered　what　he　did；　forget　that　whatever　he　did　he　must　sacrifice　something。

If　only　he　could　act　on　an　impulse！

He　could　forget　nothing；　surrender　to　no　thought；　vision；　or　desire；　it　was　all　too　serious；　too　close　around　him；　an　unbreakable　cage。

On　the　far　side　of　the　Square　newspaper　boys　were　calling　their　evening　wares；　and　the　ghoulish　cries　mingled　and　jangled　with　the　sound　of　those　church　bells。

Soames　covered　his　ears。　　The　thought　flashed　across　him　that　but　for　a　chance；　he　himself；　and　not　Bosinney；　might　be　lying　dead；　and　she；　instead　of　crouching　there　like　a　shot　bird　with　those　dying　eyes。。。。

Something　soft　touched　his　legs；　the　cat　was　rubbing　herself　against　them。　　And　a　sob　that　shook　him　from　head　to　foot　burst　from　Soames'　chest。　　Then　all　was　still　again　in　the　dark；　where　the　houses　seemed　to　stare　at　him；　each　with　a　master　and　mistress　of　its　own；　and　a　secret　story　of　happiness　or　sorrow。

And　suddenly　he　saw　that　his　own　door　was　open；　and　black　against　the　light　from　the　hall　a　man　standing　with　his　back　turned。　Something　slid　too　in　his　breast；　and　he　stole　up　close　behind。

He　could　see　his　own　fur　coat　flung　across　the　carved　oak　chair；　the　Persian　rugs；　the　silver　bowls；　the　rows　of　porcelain　plates　arranged　along　the　walls；　and　this　unknown　man　who　was　standing　there。

And　sharply　he　asked：　〃What　is　it　you　want；　sir？〃

The　visitor　turned。　　It　was　young　Jolyon。

〃The　door　was　open；〃　he　said。　　〃Might　I　see　your　wife　for　a　minute；　I　have　a　message　for　her？〃

Soames　gave　him　a　strange；　sidelong　stare。

〃My　wife　can　see　no　one；〃　he　muttered　doggedly。

Young　Jolyon　answered　gently：　〃I　shouldn't　keep　her　a　minute。〃

Soames　brushed　by　him　and　barred　the　way。

〃She　can　see　no　one；〃　he　said　again。

Young　Jolyon's　glance　shot　past　him　into　the　hall；　and　Soames　turned。　　There　in　the　drawing…room　doorway　stood　Irene；　her　eyes　were　wild　and　eager；　her　lips　were　parted；　her　hands　out…　stretched。　　In　the　sight　of　both　men　that　light　vanished　from　her　face；　her　hands　dropped　to　her　sides；　she　stood　like　stone。

Soames　spun　round；　and　met　his　visitor's　eyes；　and　at　the　look　he　saw　in　them；　a　sound　like　a　snarl　escaped　him。　　He　drew　his　lips　back　in　the　ghost　of　a　smile。

〃This　is　my　house；〃　he　said；　〃I　manage　my　own　affairs。　　I've　told　you　onceI　tell　you　again；　we　are　not　at　home。〃

And　in　young　Jolyon's　face　he　slammed　the　door。





End