fraternity-第66章
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Stephen walked across to the rustic bench and sat down。 He stared gloomily through the dusk at his patent…leather boots; and every now and then he flicked his evening trousers with the letter。 Across the dark garden; where the boughs hung soft; unmoved by wind; the light from Mr。 Stone's open window flowed out in a pale river; moths; born of the sudden heat; were fluttering up this river to its source。
Stephen looked irritably at the figure of Mr。 Stone; which could be seen; bowed; and utterly still; beside his desk; so; by lifting the spy…hole thatch; one may see a convict in his cell stand gazing at his work; without movement; numb with solitude。
'He's getting awfully broken up;' thought Stephen。 'Poor old chap! His ideas are killing him。 They're not human nature; never will be。' Again he flicked his trousers with the letter; as though that document emphasised the fact。 'I can't help being sorry for the sublime old idiot!'
He rose; the better to see his father…in…law's unconscious figure。 It looked as lifeless and as cold as though Mr。 Stone had followed some thought below the ground; and left his body standing there to await his return。 Its appearance oppressed Stephen。
'You might set the house on fire;' he thought; 'he'd never notice。'
Mr。 Stone's figure moved; the sound of along sigh came out to Stephen in the windless garden。 He turned his eyes away; with the sudden feeling that it was not the thing to watch the old chap like this; then; getting up; he went indoors。 In his brother's study he stood turning over the knick…knacks on the writing…table。
'I warned Hilary that he was burning his fingers;' he thought。
At the sound of the latch…key he went back to the hall。
However much he had secretly disapproved of her from the beginning; because she had always seemed to him such an uncomfortable and tantalising person; Stephen was impressed that night by the haunting unhappiness of Bianca's face; as if it had been suddenly disclosed to him that she could not help herself。 This was disconcerting; being; in a sense; a disorderly way of seeing things。
〃You look tired; B。;〃 he said。 〃I'm sorry; but I thought it better to bring this round tonight。〃
Bianca glanced at the letter。
〃It is to you;〃 she said。 〃I don't wish to read it; thank you。〃
Stephen compressed his lips。
〃But I wish you to hear it; please;〃 he said。 〃I'll read it out; if you'll allow me。
〃'CHARING CROSS STATION。
〃'DEAR STEVIE;
〃'I told you yesterday morning that I was going abroad alone。 Afterwards I changed my mindI meant to take her。 I went to her lodgings for the purpose。 I have lived too long amongst sentiments for such a piece of reality as that。 Class has saved me; it has triumphed over my most primitive instincts。
〃'I am going aloneback to my sentiments。 No slight has been placed on Biancabut my married life having become a mockery; I shall not return to it。 The following address will find me; and I shall ask you presently to send on my household gods。
〃'Please let Bianca know the substance of this letter。
〃'Ever your affectionate brother;
〃'HILARY DALLISON。〃'
With a frown Stephen folded up the letter; and restored it to his breast pocket。
'It's more bitter than I thought;' he reflected; 'and yet he's done the only possible thing!'
Bianca was leaning her elbow on the mantelpiece with her face turned to the wall。 Her silence irritated Stephen; whose loyalty to his brother longed to fend a vent。
〃I'm very much relieved; of course;〃 he said at last。 〃It would have been fatal〃
She did not move; and Stephen became increasingly aware that this was a most awkward matter to touch on。
〃Of course;〃 he began again。 〃But; B。; I do think youratherI mean…〃 And again he stopped before her utter silence; her utter immobility。 Then; unable to go away without having in some sort expressed his loyalty to Hilary; he tried once more: 〃Hilary is the kindest man I know。 It's not his fault if he's out of touch with lifeif he's not fit to deal with things。 He's negative!〃
And having thus in a single word; somewhat to his own astonishment; described his brother; he held out his hand。
The hand which Bianca placed in it was feverishly hot。 Stephen felt suddenly compunctious。
〃I'm awfully sorry;〃 he stammered; 〃about the whole thing。 I'm awfully sorry for you…〃
Bianca drew back her hand。
With a little shrug Stephen turned away。
'What are you to do with women like that?' was his thought; and saying dryly; 〃Good…night; B。;〃 he went。
For some time Bianca sat in Hilary's chair。 Then; by the faint glimmer coming through the half…open door; she began to wander round the room; touching the walls; the books; the prints; all the familiar things among which he had lived so many years。。。。
In that dim continual journey she was like a disharmonic spirit traversing the air above where its body lies。
The door creaked behind her。 A voice said sharply:
〃What are you doing in this house?〃
Mr。 Stone was standing beside the bust of Socrates。 Bianca went up to him。
〃Father!〃
Mr。 Stone stared。 〃It is you! I thought it was a thief! Where is Hilary?〃
〃Gone away。〃
〃Alone?〃
Bianca bowed her head。 〃It is very late; Dad;〃 she whispered。
Mr。 Stone's hand moved as though he would have stroked her。
〃The human heart;〃 he murmured; 〃is the tomb of many feelings。〃
Bianca put her arm round him。
〃You must go to bed; Dad;〃 she said; trying to get him to the door; for in her heart something seemed giving way。
Mr。 Stone stumbled; the door swung to; the room was plunged in darkness。 A hand; cold as ice; brushed her cheek。 With all her force she stiffed a scream。
〃I am here;〃 Mr。 Stone said。
His hand; wandering downwards; touched her shoulder; and she seized it with her own burning hand。 Thus linked; they groped their way out into the passage towards his room。
〃Good…night; dear;〃 Bianca murmured。
By the light of his now open door Mr。 Stone seemed to try and see her face; but she would not show it him。 Closing the door gently; she stole upstairs。
Sitting down in her bedroom by the open window; it seemed to her that the room was full of peopleher nerves were so unstrung。 It was as if walls had not the power this night to exclude human presences。 Moving; or motionless; now distinct; then covered suddenly by the thick veil of some material object; they circled round her quiet figure; lying back in the chair with shut eyes。 These disharmonic shadows flitting in the room made a stir like the rubbing of dry straw or the hum of bees among clover stalks。 When she sat up they vanished; and the sounds became the distant din of homing traffic; but the moment she closed her eyes; her visitors again began to steal round her with that dry; mysterious hum。
She fell asleep presently; and woke with a start。 There; in a glimmer of pale light; stood the little model; as in the fatal picture Bianca had painted of her。 Her face was powder white; with shadows beneath the eyes。 Breath seemed coming through her parted lips; just touched with colour。 In her hat lay the tiny peacock's feather beside the two purplish…pink roses。 A scent came from her; toobut faint; as ever was the scent of chicory flower。 How long had she been standing there? Bianca started to her feet; and as she rose the vision vanished。
She went towards the spot。 There was nothing in that corner but moonlight; the scent she had perceived was merely that of the trees drifting in。
But so vivid had that vision been that she stood at the window; panting for air; passing her hand again and again across her eyes。
Outside; over the dark gardens; the moon hung full and almost golden。 Its honey…pale light filtered down on every little shape of tree; and leaf; and sleeping flower。 That soft; vibrating radiance seemed to have woven all into one mysterious whole; stilling disharmony; so that each little separate shape had no meaning to itself。
Bianca looked long at the rain of moonlight falling on the earth's carpet; like a covering shower of blossom which bees have sucked and spilled。 Then; below her; out through candescent space; she saw a shadow dart forth along the grass; and to her