the dark flower-第32章
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for the South； lovers already sat in the shade of trees。
To remain indoors； when he was not working； was sheer torture； for
he could not read； and had lost all interest in the little
excitements； amusements； occupations that go to make up the normal
life of man。 Every outer thing seemed to have dropped off；
shrivelled； leaving him just a condition of the spirit； a state of
mind。
Lying awake he would think of things in the past； and they would
mean nothingall dissolved and dispersed by the heat of this
feeling in him。 Indeed； his sense of isolation was so strong that
he could not even believe that he had lived through the facts which
his memory apprehended。 He had become one burning moodthat； and
nothing more。
To be out； especially amongst trees； was the only solace。
And he sat for a long time that evening under a large lime…tree on
a knoll above the Serpentine。 There was very little breeze； just
enough to keep alive a kind of whispering。 What if men and women；
when they had lived their gusty lives； became trees！ What if
someone who had burned and ached were now spreading over him this
leafy peacethis blue…black shadow against the stars？ Or were the
stars； perhaps； the souls of men and women escaped for ever from
love and longing？ He broke off a branch of the lime and drew it
across his face。 It was not yet in flower； but it smelled lemony
and fresh even here in London。 If only for a moment he could
desert his own heart； and rest with the trees and stars！
No further letter came from her next morning； and he soon lost his
power to work。 It was Derby Day。 He determined to go down。
Perhaps she would be there。 Even if she were not； he might find
some little distraction in the crowd and the horses。 He had seen
her in the paddock long before the Colonel's sharp eyes detected
him； and； following in the crush； managed to touch her hand in the
crowded gateway； and whisper： 〃To…morrow； the National Gallery； at
four o'clockby the Bacchus and Ariadne。 For God's sake！〃 Her
gloved hand pressed his hard； and she was gone。 He stayed in the
paddock； too happy almost to breathe。 。 。 。
Next day； while waiting before that picture； he looked at it with
wonder。 For there seemed his own passion transfigured in the
darkening star…crowned sky； and the eyes of the leaping god。 In
spirit； was he not always rushing to her like that？ Minutes
passed； and she did not come。 What should he do if she failed him？
Surely die of disappointment and despair。 。 。 。 He had little
enough experience as yet of the toughness of the human heart； how
life bruises and crushes； yet leaves it beating。 。 。 。 Then； from
an unlikely quarter； he saw her coming。
They walked in silence down to the quiet rooms where the Turner
watercolours hung。 No one； save two Frenchmen and an old official；
watched them passing slowly before those little pictures； till they
came to the end wall； and； unseen； unheard by any but her； he could
begin！
The arguments he had so carefully rehearsed were all forgotten；
nothing left but an incoherent pleading。 Life without her was not
life； and they had only one life for loveone summer。 It was all
dark where she was notthe very sun itself was dark。 Better to
die than to live such false； broken lives； apart from each other。
Better to die at once than to live wanting each other； longing and
longing； and watching each other's sorrow。 And all for the sake of
what？ It maddened； killed him； to think of that man touching her
when he knew she did but hate him。 It shamed all manhood； it could
not be good to help such things to be。 A vow when the spirit of it
was gone was only superstition； it was wicked to waste one's life
for the sake of that。 Societyshe knew； she must knowonly cared
for the forms； the outsides of things。 And what did it matter what
Society thought？ It had no soul； no feeling； nothing。 And if it
were said they ought to sacrifice themselves for the sake of
others； to make things happier in the world； she must know that was
only true when love was light and selfish； but not when people
loved as they did； with all their hearts and souls； so that they
would die for each other any minute； so that without each other
there was no meaning in anything。 It would not help a single soul；
for them to murder their love and all the happiness of their lives；
to go on in a sort of living death。 Even if it were wrong； he
would rather do that wrong； and take the consequences！ But it was
not； it COULD not be wrong； when they felt like that！
And all the time that he was pouring forth those supplications； his
eyes searched and searched her face。 But there only came from her：
〃I don't knowI can't tellif only I knew！〃 And then he was
silent； stricken to the heart； till； at a look or a touch from her；
he would break out again： 〃You do love meyou do； then what does
anything else matter？〃
And so it went on and on that summer afternoon； in the deserted
room meant for such other things； where the two Frenchmen were too
sympathetic； and the old official too drowsy； to come。 Then it all
narrowed to one fierce； insistent question：
〃What is itWHAT is it you're afraid of？〃
But to that； too； he got only the one mournful answer； paralyzing
in its fateful monotony。
〃I don't knowI can't tell！〃
It was awful to go on thus beating against this uncanny； dark；
shadowy resistance； these unreal doubts and dreads； that by their
very dumbness were becoming real to him； too。 If only she could
tell him what she feared！ It could not be povertythat was not
like herbesides； he had enough for both。 It could not be loss of
a social position； which was but irksome to her！ Surely it was not
fear that he would cease to love her！ What was it？ In God's name
what？
To…morrowshe had told himshe was to go down； alone； to the
river…house； would she not come now； this very minute； to him
instead？ And they would start offthat night； back to the South
where their love had flowered。 But again it was： 〃I can't！ I
don't knowI must have time！〃 And yet her eyes had that brooding
love…light。 How COULD she hold back and waver？ But； utterly
exhausted； he did not plead again； did not even resist when she
said： 〃You must go； now； and leave me to get back！ I will write。
PerhapssoonI shall know。〃 He begged for； and took one kiss；
then； passing the old official； went quickly up and out。
XV
He reached his rooms overcome by a lassitude that was not； however；
quite despair。 He had made his effort； failedbut there was still
within him the unconquerable hope of the passionate lover。 。 。 。
As well try to extinguish in full June the beating of the heart of
summer； deny to the flowers their deepening hues； or to winged life
its slumbrous buzzing； as stifle in such a lover his conviction of
fulfilment。 。 。 。
He lay down on a couch； and there stayed a long time quite still；
his forehead pressed against the wall。 His will was already
beginning to recover for a fresh attempt。 It was merciful that she
was going away from Cramier； going to where he had in fancy watched
her feed her doves。 No laws； no fears； not even her commands could
stop his fancy from conjuring her up by day and night。 He had but
to close his eyes； and she was there。
A ring at the bell； repeated several times； roused him at last to
go to the door。 His caller was Robert Cramier。 And at sight of
him； all Lennan's lethargy gave place to a steely feeling。 What
had brought him here？ Had he been spying on his wife？ The old
longing for physical combat came over him。 Cramier was perhaps
fifteen years his senior； but taller； heavier； thicker。 Chances；
then； were pretty equal！
〃Won't you come in？〃 he said。
〃Thanks。〃
The voice had in it the same mockery as on Sunday； and it shot
through him that Cramier had thought to find his wife here。 If so；
he did not betray it by any crude look round。 He came in with his
deliberate step； light and well…poised for so big a man。
〃So this；〃 he said； 〃is where you produce your masterpieces！
Anything great since you came back？〃
Lennan lifted the cloths from the half…modelled figure of his bull…
man。 He f
