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第33节

the patrician-第33节

小说: the patrician 字数: 每页4000字

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'cacoethes volandi'; and feeling of clipped wings; hurt heras being
forbidden hurts a child。

She remembered how in the housekeeper's room at Monkland there lived
a magpie who had once sought shelter in an orchid…house from some
pursuer。  As soon as they thought him wedded to civilization; they
had let him go; to see whether he would come back。  For hours he had
sat up in a high tree; and at last come down again to his cage;
whereupon; fearing lest the rooks should attack him when he next took
this voyage of discovery; they clipped one of his wings。  After that
the twilight bird; though he lived happily enough; hopping about his
cage and the terrace which served him for exercise yard; would seem
at times restive and frightened; moving his wings as if flying in
spirit; and sad that he must stay on earth。

So; too; at her window Barbara fluttered her wings; then; getting
into bed; lay sighing and tossing。  A clock struck three; and seized
by an intolerable impatience at her own discomfort; she slipped a
motor coat over her night…gown; put on slippers; and stole out into
the passage。  The house was very still。  She crept downstairs;
smothering her footsteps。  Groping her way through the hall;
inhabited by the thin ghosts of would…be light; she slid back the
chain of the door; and fled towards the sea。  She made no more noise
running in the dew; than a bird following the paths of air; and the
two ponies; who felt her figure pass in the darkness; snuffled;
sending out soft sighs of alarm amongst the closed buttercups。  She
climbed the wall over to the beach。  While she was running; she had
fully meant to dash into the sea and cool herself; but it was so
black; with just a thin edging scarf of white; and the sky was black;
bereft of lights; waiting for the day!

She stood; and looked。  And all the leapings and pulsings of flesh
and spirit slowly died in that wide dark loneliness; where the only
sound was the wistful breaking of small waves。  She was well used to
these dead hoursonly last night; at this very time; Harbinger's arm
had been round her in a last waltz!  But here the dead hours had such
different faces; wide…eyed; solemn; and there came to Barbara;
staring out at them; a sense that the darkness saw her very soul; so
that it felt little and timid within her。  She shivered in her fur…
lined coat; as if almost frightened at finding herself so
marvellously nothing before that black sky and dark sea; which seemed
all one; relentlessly great。。。。  And crouching down; she waited for
the dawn to break。

It came from over the Downs; sweeping a rush of cold air on its
wings; flighting towards the sea。  With it the daring soon crept back
into her blood。  She stripped; and ran down into the dark water; fast
growing pale。  It covered her jealously; and she set to work to swim。
The water was warmer than the air。  She lay on her back and splashed;
watching the sky flush。  To bathe like this in the half…dark; with
her hair floating out; and no wet clothes clinging to her limbs; gave
her the joy of a child doing a naughty thing。  She swam out of her
depth; then scared at her own adventure; swam in again as the sun
rose。

She dashed into her two garments; climbed the wall; and scurried back
to the house。  All her dejection; and feverish uncertainty were gone;
she felt keen; fresh; terribly hungry; and stealing into the dark
dining…room; began rummaging for food。  She found biscuits; and was
still munching; when in the open doorway she saw Lord Dennis; a
pistol in one hand and a lighted candle in the other。  With his
carved features and white beard above an old blue dressing…gown; he
looked impressive; having at the moment a distinct resemblance to
Lady Casterley; as though danger had armoured him in steel。

〃You call this resting!〃 he said; dryly; then; looking at her drowned
hair; added: 〃I see you have already entrusted your trouble to the
waters of Lethe。〃

But without answer Barbara vanished into the dim hall and up the
stairs。




CHAPTER IV

While Barbara was swimming to meet the dawn; Miltoun was bathing in
those waters of mansuetude and truth which roll from wall to wall in
the British House of Commons。

In that long debate on the Land question; for which he had waited to
make his first speech; he had already risen nine times without
catching the Speaker's eye; and slowly a sense of unreality was
creeping over him。  Surely this great Chamber; where without end rose
the small sound of a single human voice; and queer mechanical bursts
of approbation and resentment; did not exist at all but as a gigantic
fancy of his own!  And all these figures were figments of his brain!
And when he at last spoke; it would be himself alone that he
addressed!  The torpid air tainted with human breath; the unwinking
stare of the countless lights; the long rows of seats; the queer
distant rounds of pale listening flesh perched up so high; they were
all emanations of himself!  Even the coming and going in the gangway
was but the coming and going of little wilful parts of him!  And
rustling deep down in this Titanic creature of his fancy was 'the
murmuration' of his own unspoken speech; sweeping away the puff balls
of words flung up by that far…away; small; varying voice。

Then; suddenly all that dream creature had vanished; he was on his
feet; with a thumping heart; speaking。

Soon he had no tremors; only a dim consciousness that his words
sounded strange; and a queer icy pleasure in flinging them out into
the silence。  Round him there seemed no longer men; only mouths and
eyes。  And he had enjoyment in the feeling that with these words of
his he was holding those hungry mouths and eyes dumb and unmoving。
Then he knew that he had reached the end of what he had to say; and
sat down; remaining motionless in the centre of a various sound;
staring at the back of the head in front of him; with his hands
clasped round his knee。  And soon; when that little faraway voice was
once more speaking; he took his hat; and glancing neither to right
nor left; went out。

Instead of the sensation of relief and wild elation which fills the
heart of those who have taken the first plunge; Miltoun had nothing
in his deep dark well but the waters of bitterness。  In truth; with
the delivery of that speech he had but parted with what had been a
sort of anodyne to suffering。  He had only put the fine point on his
conviction; of how vain was his career now that he could not share it
with Audrey Noel。  He walked slowly towards the Temple; along the
riverside; where the lamps were paling into nothingness before that
daily celebration of Divinity; the meeting of dark and light。

For Miltoun was not one of those who take things lying down; he took
things desperately; deeply; and with revolt。  He took them like a
rider riding himself; plunging at the dig of his own spurs; chafing
and wincing at the cruel tugs of his own bitt; bearing in his
friendless; proud heart all the burden of struggles which shallower
or more genial natures shared with others。

He looked hardly less haggard; walking home; than some of those
homeless ones who slept nightly by the river; as though they knew
that to lie near one who could so readily grant oblivion; alone could
save them from seeking that consolation。  He was perhaps unhappier
than they; whose spirits; at all events; had long ceased to worry
them; having oozed out from their bodies under the foot of Life:

Now that Audrey Noel was lost to him; her loveliness and that
indescribable quality which made her lovable; floated before him; the
very torture…flowers of a beauty never to be graspedyet; that he
could grasp; 'if he only would!  That was the heart and fervour of
his suffering。  To be grasped if he only would!  He was suffering;
too; physically from a kind of slow fever; the result of his wetting
on the day when he last saw her。  And through that latent fever;
things and feelings; like his sensations in the House before his
speech; were all as it were muffled in a horrible way; as if they all
came to him wrapped in a sort of flannel coating; through which he
could not cut。  And all the time there seemed to be within him two
men at mortal grips with one another; the man of faith in divine
sanction and authority; on which all his beliefs had hitherto hinged;
and a desperate warm…blooded hungry creature。  He was very miserable;
craving strangely for the society of someone who could understand
what he was feeling; 。and; from long habit of making no confidants;
not knowing how to satisfy that craving。

It was dawn when he reached his rooms; and; sure that he would not
sleep; he did not even go to bed; but changed his clothes; made
himself some coffee; and sat down at the window which overlooked the
flowered courtyard。

In Middle Temple Hall a Ball was still in progress; though the
glamour from its Chinese lanterns was already darkened and gone。
Miltoun saw a man and a girl; sheltered by an old fountain; sitting
out their last dance。  Her head had sunk on her partner's shoulder;
their lips were joined。  And there floated up to the window the scent
of heliotrope; with the tune of the waltz that those two sh

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