the secret places of the heart-第32章

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the　early　evening　they　came　to　Wells　and　a　pleasant　inn；　with　a　quaint　little　garden　before　its　front　door　that　gave　directly　upon　the　cathedral。　The　three　tourists　devoted　a　golden　half　hour　before　dinner　to　the　sculptures　on　the　western　face。　The　great　screen　of　wrought　stone　rose　up　warmly；　grey　and　clear　and　distinct　against　a　clear　blue　sky　in　which　the　moon　hung；　round　and　already　bright。　That　western　facade　with　its　hundreds　of　little　figures　tells　the　whole　story　of　God　and　Man　from　Adam　to　the　Last　Judgment；　as　the　mediaeval　mind　conceived　it。　It　is　an　even　fuller　exposition　than　the　carved　Bible　history　that　goes　round　the　chapter　house　at　Salisbury。　It　presented　the　universe；　said　Sir　Richmond；　as　a　complete　crystal　globe。　It　explained　everything　in　life　in　a　simple　and　natural　manner；　hope；　heaven；　devil　and　despair。　Generations　had　lived　and　died　mentally　within　that　crystal　globe；　convinced　that　it　was　all　and　complete。　〃And　now；〃　said　Miss　Grammont；　〃we　are　in　limitless　space　and　time。　The　crystal　globe　is　broken。〃　〃And？〃　said　Belinda　amazinglyfor　she　had　been　silent　for　some　time；　〃the　goldfish　are　on　the　floor；　V。V。　Free　to　flop　about。　Are　they　any　happier？〃　It　was　one　of　those　sudden　rhetorical　triumphs　that　are　best　left　alone。　〃I　trow　not；〃　said　Belinda；　giving　the　last　touch　to　it。　After　dinner　Sir　Richmond　and　Miss　Grammont　walked　round　the　cathedral　and　along　by　the　moat　of　the　bishop's　palace；　and　Miss　Seyffert　stayed　in　the　hotel　to　send　off　postcards　to　her　friends；　a　duty　she　had　neglected　for　some　days。　The　evening　was　warm　and　still　and　the　moon　was　approaching　its　full　and　very　bright。　Insensibly　the　soft　afterglow　passed　into　moonlight。　At　first　the　two　companions　talked　very　little。　Sir　Richmond　was　well　content　with　this　tacit　friendliness　and　Miss　Grammont　was　preoccupied　because　she　was　very　strongly　moved　to　tell　him　things　about　herself　that　hitherto　she　had　told　to　no　one。　It　was　not　merely　that　she　wanted　to　tell　him　these　things　but　also　that　for　reasons　she　did　not　put　as　yet　very　clearly　to　herself　she　thought　they　were　things　he　ought　to　know。　She　talked　of　herself　at　first　in　general　terms。　〃Life　comes　on　anyone　with　a　rush；　childhood　seems　lasting　for　ever　and　then　suddenly　one　tears　into　life；〃　she　said。　It　was　even　more　so　for　women　than　it　was　for　men。　You　are　shown　life；　a　crowded　vast　spectacle　full　of　what　seems　to　be　intensely　interesting　activities　and　endless　delightful　and　frightful　and　tragic　possibilities；　and　you　have　hardly　had　time　to　look　at　it　before　you　are　called　upon　to　make　decisions。　And　there　is　something　in　your　blood　that　urges　you　to　decisive　acts。　Your　mind；　your　reason　resists。　〃Give　me　time；〃　it　says。　〃They　clamour　at　you　with　treats；　crowds；　shows；　theatres；　all　sorts　of　things；　lovers　buzz　at　you；　each　trying　to　fix　you　part　of　his　life　when　you　are　trying　to　get　clear　to　live　a　little　of　your　own。〃　Her　father　had　had　one　merit　at　any　rate。　He　had　been　jealous　of　her　lovers　and　very　ready　to　interfere。　〃I　wanted　a　lover　to　love；〃　she　said。　〃Every　girl　of　course　wants　that。　I　wanted　to　be　tremendously　excited。　。　。　。　And　at　the　same　time　I　dreaded　the　enormous　interference。　。　。　。　〃I　wasn't　temperamentally　a　cold　girl。　Men　interested　and　excited　me；　but　there　were　a　lot　of　men　about　and　they　clashed　with　each　other。　Perhaps　way　down　in　some　out　of　the　way　place　I　should　have　fallen　in　love　quite　easily　with　the　one　man　who　came　along。　But　no　man　fixed　his　image。　After　a　year　or　so　I　think　I　began　to　lose　the　power　which　is　natural　to　a　young　girl　of　falling　very　easily　into　love。　I　became　critical　of　the　youths　and　men　who　were　attracted　to　me　and　I　became　analytical　about　myself。　。　。　。　〃I　suppose　it　is　because　you　and　I　are　going　to　part　so　soon　that　I　can　speak　so　freely　to　you。　。　。　。　But　there　are　things　about　myself　that　I　have　never　had　out　even　with　myself。　I　can　talk　to　myself　in　you〃　She　paused　baffled。　〃I　know　exactly；〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃In　my　composition　I　perceive　there　have　always　been　two　ruling　strains。　I　was　a　spoilt　child　at　home；　a　rather　reserved　girl　at　school；　keen　on　my　dignity。　I　liked　respect。　I　didn't　give　myself　away。　I　suppose　one　would　call　that　personal　pride。　Anyhow　it　was　that　streak　made　me　value　the　position　of　being　a　rich　married　woman　in　New　York。　That　was　why　I　became　engaged　to　Lake。　He　seemed　to　be　as　good　a　man　as　there　was　about。　He　said　he　adored　me　and　wanted　me　to　crown　his　life。　He　wasn't　ill…looking　or　ill…mannered。　The　second　main　streak　in　my　nature　wouldn't　however　fit　in　with　that。〃　She　stopped　short。　〃The　second　streak；　〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃Oh！Love　of　beauty；　love　of　romance。　I　want　to　give　things　their　proper　names；　I　don't　want　to　pretend　to　you。　。　。　。　It　was　more　or　less　than　that。　。　。　。　It　wasimaginative　sensuousness。　Why　should　I　pretend　it　wasn't　in　me？　I　believe　that　streak　is　in　all　women。〃　〃I　believe　so　too。　In　all　properly　constituted　women。〃　〃I　tried　to　devote　that　streak　to　Lake；〃　she　said。　〃I　did　my　best　for　him。　But　Lake　was　much　too　much　of　a　gentleman　or　an　idealist　about　women；　or　what　you　will；　to　know　his　business　as　a　lover。　And　that　side　of　me　fell　in　love；　the　rest　of　me　protesting；　with　a　man　named　Caston。　It　was　a　notorious　affair。　Everybody　in　New　York　couples　my　name　with　Caston。　Except　when　my　father　is　about。　His　jealousy　has　blasted　an　area　of　silencein　that　matterall　round　him。　He　will　not　know　of　that　story。　And　they　dare　not　tell　him。　I　should　pity　anyone　who　tried　to　tell　it　him。〃　〃What　sort　of　man　was　this　Caston？〃　Miss　Grammont　seemed　to　consider。　She　did　not　look　at　Sir　Richmond；　she　kept　her　profile　to　him。　〃He　was；〃　she　said　deliberately；　〃a　very　rotten　sort　of　man。〃　She　spoke　like　one　resolved　to　be　exact　and　judicial。　〃I　believe　I　always　knew　he　wasn't　right。　But　he　was　very　handsome。　And　ten　years　younger　than　Lake。　And　nobody　else　seemed　to　be　all　right；　so　I　swallowed　that。　He　was　an　artist；　a　painter。　Perhaps　you　know　his　work。〃　Sir　Richmond　shook　his　head。　〃He　could　make　American　business　men　look　like　characters　out　of　the　Three　Musketeers；　they　said；　and　he　was　beginning　to　be　popular。　He　made　love　to　me。　In　exactly　the　way　Lake　didn't。　If　I　shut　my　eyes　to　one　or　two　things；　it　was　delightful。　I　liked　it。　But　my　father　would　have　stood　a　painter　as　my　husband　almost　as　cheerfully　as　he　would　a　man　of　colour。　I　made　a　fool　of　myself；　as　people　say；　about　Caston。　Wellwhen　the　war　came；　he　talked　in　a　way　that　irritated　me。　He　talked　like　an　East　Side　Annunzio；　about　art　and　war。　It　made　me　furious　to　know　it　was　all　talk　and　that　he　didn't　mean　business。　。　。　。　I　made　him　go。〃　She　paused　for　a　moment。　〃He　hated　to　go。〃　〃Then　I　relented。　Or　I　missed　him　and　I　wanted　to　be　made　love　to。　Or　I　really　wanted　to　go　on　my　own　account。　I　forget。　I　forget　my　motives　altogether　now。　That　early　war　time　was　a　queer　time　for　everyone。　A　kind　of　wildness　got　into　the　blood。　。　。　。　I　threw　over　Lake。　All　the　time　things　had　been　going　on　in　New　York　I　had　still　been　engaged　to　Lake。　I　went　to　France。　I　did　good　work。　I　did　do　good　work。　And　also　things　were　possible　that　would　have　seemed　fantastic　in　America。　You　know　something　of　the　war…time　atmosphere。　There　was　death　everywhere　and　people　snatched　at　gratifications。　Caston　made　'To…morrow　we　die'　his　text。　We　contrived　three　days　in　Paris　togethernot　very　cleverly。　All　sorts　of　people　know　about　it。　。　。　。　We　went　very　far。〃　She　stopped　short。　〃Well？〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃He　did　die。　。　。　。〃　Another　long　pause。　〃They　told　me　Caston　had　been　killed。　But　someone　hintedor　I　guessedthat　there　was　more　in　it　than　an　ordinary　casualty。　〃Nobody；　I　think；　realizes　that　I　know。　This　is　the　first　time　I　have　ever　confessed　that　I　do　know。　He　wasshot。　He　was　shot　for　cowardice。〃　〃That　might　happen　to　any　man；〃　said　Sir　Richmond　presently。　〃No　man　is　a　hero　all　round　the　twenty…four　hours。　Perhaps　he　was　caught　by　circumstances；　unprepared。　He　may　have　been　taken　by　surprise。〃　〃It　was　the　most　calculated；　cold…blooded　cowardice　imaginable。　He　let　three　other　men　go　on　and　get　killed。　。　。〃

〃No。　It　is　no　good　your　inventing　excuses　for　a　man　you　know　nothing　about。　It　was　vile；　contemptible　cowardice　and　meanness。　It　fitted　in　with　a　score