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第33章

villa rubein and other stories-第33章

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Scruff in her arms; rocking slightly to and fro。  When Christian

passed; she caught her skirt; and whispered: 〃It is your birthday;

Chris!〃



Mr。 Treffry stirred。



〃What's that?  Thunder?it's cooler。  Where am I?  Chris!〃



Dawney signed for her to take his place。



〃Chris!〃 Mr。 Treffry said。  〃It's near now。〃  She bent across him;

and her tears fell on his forehead。



〃Forgive!〃 she whispered; 〃love me!〃



He raised his finger; and touched her cheek。



For an hour or more he did not speak; though once or twice he moaned;

and faintly tightened his pressure on her fingers。  The storm had

died away; but very far off the thunder was still muttering。



His eyes opened once more; rested on her; and passed beyond; into

that abyss dividing youth from age; conviction from conviction; life

from death。



At the foot of the bed Dawney stood covering his face; behind him

Dominique knelt with hands held upwards; the sound of Greta's

breathing; soft in sleep; rose and fell in the stillness。









XXIX



One afternoon in March; more than three years after Mr。 Treffry's

death; Christian was sitting at the window of a studio in St。 John's

Wood。  The sky was covered with soft; high clouds; through which

shone little gleams of blue。  Now and then a bright shower fell;

sprinkling the trees; where every twig was curling upwards as if

waiting for the gift of its new leaves。  And it seemed to her that

the boughs thickened and budded under her very eyes; a great

concourse of sparrows had gathered on those boughs; and kept raising

a shrill chatter。  Over at the far side of the room Harz was working

at a picture。



On Christian's face was the quiet smile of one who knows that she has

only to turn her eyes to see what she wishes to see; of one whose

possessions are safe under her hand。  She looked at Harz with that

possessive smile。  But as into the brain of one turning in his bed

grim fancies will suddenly leap up out of warm nothingness; so there

leaped into her mind the memory of that long ago dawn; when he had

found her kneeling by Mr。 Treffry's body。  She seemed to see again

the dead face; so gravely quiet; and furrowless。  She seemed to see

her lover and herself setting forth silently along the river wall

where they had first met; sitting down; still silent; beneath the

poplar…tree where the little bodies of the chafers had lain strewn in

the Spring。  To see the trees changing from black to grey; from grey

to green; and in the dark sky long white lines of cloud; lighting to

the south like birds; and; very far away; rosy peaks watching the

awakening of the earth。  And now once again; after all that time;

she felt her spirit shrink away from his; as it had shrunk in that

hour; when she had seemed hateful to herself。  She remembered the

words she had spoken: 〃I have no heart left。  You've torn it in two

between you。  Love is all selfI wanted him to die。〃  She remembered

too the raindrops on the vines like a million tiny lamps; and the

throstle that began singing。  Then; as dreams die out into warm

nothingness; recollection vanished; and the smile came back to her

lips。



She took out a letter。



〃。。。。O Chris!  We are really coming; I seem to be always telling it

to myself; and I have told Scruff many times; but he does not care;

because he is getting old。  Miss Naylor says we shall arrive for

breakfast; and that we shall be hungry; but perhaps she will not be

very hungry; if it is rough。  Papa said to me: 'Je serai

inconsolable; mais inconsolable!'  But I think he will not be;

because he is going to Vienna。  When we are come; there will be

nobody at Villa Rubein; Aunt Constance has gone a fortnight ago to

Florence。  There is a young man at her hotel; she says he will be one

of the greatest playwriters in England; and she sent me a play of his

to read; it was only a little about love; I did not like it very

much。。。。  O Chris! I think I shall cry when I see you。  As I am quite

grown up; Miss Naylor is not to come back with me; sometimes she is

sad; but she will be glad to see you; Chris。  She seems always sadder

when it is Spring。  Today I walked along the wall; the little green

balls of wool are growing on the poplars already; and I saw one

chafer; it will not be long before the cherry blossom comes; and I

felt so funny; sad and happy together; and once I thought that I had

wings and could fly away up the valley to Meranbut I had none; so I

sat on the bench where we sat the day we took the pictures; and I

thought and thought; there was nothing came to me in my thoughts; but

all was sweet and a little noisy; and rather sad; it was like the

buzzing of the chafer; in my head; and now I feel so tired and all my

blood is running up and down me。  I do not mind; because I know it is

the Spring。



〃Dominique came to see us the other day; he is very well; and is half

the proprietor of the Adler Hotel; at Meran; he is not at all

different; and he asked about you and about Aloisdo you know;

Chris; to myself I call him Herr Harz; but when I have seen him this

time I shall call him Alois in my heart also。



〃I have a letter from Dr。 Edmund; he is in London; so perhaps you

have seen him; only he has a great many patients and some that he has

'hopes of killing soon'! especially one old lady; because she is

always wanting him to do things for her; and he is never saying 'No;'

so he does not like her。  He says that he is getting old。  When I

have finished this letter I am going to write and tell him that

perhaps he shall see me soon; and then I think he will be very sad。

Now that the Spring is come there are more flowers to take to Uncle

Nic's grave; and every day; when I am gone; Barbi is to take them so

that he shall not miss you; Chris; because all the flowers I put

there are for you。



〃I am buying some toys without paint on for my niece。〃



〃O Chris! this will be the first baby that I have known。〃



〃I am only to stay three weeks with you; but I think when I am once

there I shall be staying longer。  I send a kiss for my niece; and to

Herr Harz; my lovethat is the last time I shall call him Herr Harz;

and to you; Chris; all the joy that is in my heart。Your loving



〃GRETA。〃





Christian rose; and; turning very softly; stood; leaning her elbows

on the back of a high seat; looking at her husband。



In her eyes there was a slow; clear; faintly smiling; yet yearning

look; as though this strenuous figure bent on its task were seen for

a moment as something apart; and not all the world to her。



〃Tired?〃 asked Harz; putting his lips to her hand。



〃No; it's onlywhat Greta says about the Spring; it makes one want

more than one has got。



Slipping her hand away; she went back to the window。  Harz stood;

looking after her; then; taking up his palette; again began painting。



In the world; outside; the high soft clouds flew by; the trees seemed

thickening and budding。



And Christian thought:



'Can we never have quite enough?'





December l890。















TO



MY FATHER









A MAN OF DEVON





I



〃MOOR; 20th July 。



。。。。。。。It is quiet here; sleepy; rathera farm is never quiet; the

sea; too; is only a quarter of a mile away; and when it's windy; the

sound of it travels up the combe; for distraction; you must go four

miles to Brixham or five to Kingswear; and you won't find much then。

The farm lies in a sheltered spot; scooped; so to speak; high up the

combe sidebehind is a rise of fields; and beyond; a sweep of down。

You have the feeling of being able to see quite far; which is

misleading; as you soon find out if you walk。  It is true Devon

country…hills; hollows; hedge…banks; lanes dipping down into the

earth or going up like the sides of houses; coppices; cornfields; and

little streams wherever there's a place for one; but the downs along

the cliff; all gorse and ferns; are w

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