the research magnificent-第54节

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cratic　through　their　own　innate　impulse；　they　must　be　self…called　to　their　lives；　exactly　as　men　must　be；　there　is　no　making　an　aristocrat　without　a　predisposition　for　rule　and　nobility。　　And　they　have　to　discover　and　struggle　against　just　exactly　the　limitations　that　we　have　to　struggle　against。　　They　have　to　conquer　not　only　fear　but　indulgence；　indulgence　of　a　softer；　more　insidious　quality；　and　jealousy　proprietorship。　。　。　。　〃It　is　as　natural　to　want　a　mate　as　to　want　bread；　and　a　thousand　times　in　my　work　and　in　my　wanderings　I　have　thought　of　a　mate　and　desired　a　mate。　　A　matenot　a　possession。　　It　is　a　need　almost　naively　simple。　　If　only　one　could　have　a　woman　who　thought　of　one　and　with　one！　　Though　she　were　on　the　other　side　of　the　world　and　busied　about　a　thousand　things。　。　。　。　〃‘WITH　one；'　I　see　it　must　be　rather　than　‘OF　one。'　　That　‘of　one'　is　just　the　unexpurgated　egotistical　demand　coming　back　again。　。　。　。　〃Man　is　a　mating　creature。　　It　is　not　good　to　be　alone。　　But　mating　means　a　mate。　。　。　。　〃We　should　be　lovers；　of　course；　that　goes　without　saying。　。　。　。　〃And　yet　not　specialized　lovers；　not　devoted；　ATTENDING　lovers。　‘Dancing　attendance'as　they　used　to　say。　　We　should　meet　upon　our　ways　as　the　great　carnivores　do。　。　。　。　〃That　at　any　rate　was　a　sound　idea。　　Though　we　only　played　with　it。　〃But　that　mate　desire　is　just　a　longing　that　can　have　no　possible　satisfaction　now　for　me。　　What　is　the　good　of　dreaming？　　Life　and　chance　have　played　a　trick　upon　my　body　and　soul。　　I　am　mated；　though　I　am　mated　to　a　phantom。　　I　loved　and　I　love　Arnanda；　not　Easton's　Amanda；　but　Amanda　in　armour；　the　Amanda　of　my　dreams。　Sense；　and　particularly　the　sense　of　beauty；　lies　deeper　than　reason　in　us。　　There　can　be　no　mate　for　me　now　unless　she　comes　with　Amanda's　voice　and　Amanda's　face　and　Amanda's　quick　movements　and　her　clever　hands。　。　。　。〃

24

〃Why　am　I　so　ungrateful　to　her　still　for　all　the　happiness　she　gave　me？　〃There　were　things　between　us　two　as　lovers；love；　things　more　beautiful　than　anything　else　in　the　world；　things　that　set　the　mind　hunting　among　ineffectual　images　in　a　search　for　impossible　expression；　images　of　sunlight　shining　through　blood…red　petals；　images　of　moonlight　in　a　scented　garden；　of　marble　gleaming　in　the　shade；　of　far…off　wonderful　music　heard　at　dusk　in　a　great　stillness；　of　fairies　dancing　softly；　of　floating　happiness　and　stirring　delights；　of　joys　as　keen　and　sudden　as　the　knife　of　an　assassin；　assassin's　knives　made　out　of　tears；　tears　that　are　happiness；　wordless　things；　and　surprises；　expectations；　gratitudes；　sudden　moments　of　contemplation；　the　sight　of　a　soft　eyelid　closed　in　sleep；　shadowy　tones　in　the　sound　of　a　voice　heard　unexpectedly；　sweet；　dear　magical　things　that　I　can　find　no　words　for。　。　。　。　〃If　she　was　a　goddess　to　me；　should　it　be　any　affair　of　mine　that　she　was　not　a　goddess　to　herself；　that　she　could　hold　all　this　that　has　been　between　us　more　cheaply　than　I　did？　　It　does　not　change　one　jot　of　it　for　me。　　At　the　time　she　did　not　hold　it　cheaply。　　She　forgets　where　I　do　not　forget。　。　。　。〃

25

Such　were　the　things　that　Benham　could　think　and　set　down。　Yet　for　whole　days　he　was　possessed　by　the　thought　of　killing　Amanda　and　himself。　He　did　not　at　once　turn　homeward。　　It　was　in　Ceylon　that　he　dropped　his　work　and　came　home。　　At　Colombo　he　found　a　heap　of　letters　awaiting　him；　and　there　were　two　of　these　that　had　started　at　the　same　time。　　They　had　been　posted　in　London　on　one　eventful　afternoon。　　Lady　Marayne　and　Amanda　had　quarrelled　violently。　　Two　earnest；　flushed；　quick…breathing　women；　full　of　neat　but　belated　repartee；　separated　to　write　their　simultaneous　letters。　　Each　letter　trailed　the　atmosphere　of　that　truncated　encounter。　　Lady　Marayne　told　her　story　ruthlessly。　　Amanda；　on　the　other　hand；　generalized；　and　explained。　　Sir　Philip's　adoration　of　her　was　a　love…friendship；　it　was　beautiful；　it　was　pure。　　Was　there　no　trust　nor　courage　in　the　world？　　She　would　defy　all　jealous　scandal。　　She　would　not　even　banish　him　from　her　side。　　Surely　the　Cheetah　could　trust　her。　　But　the　pitiless　facts　of　Lady　Marayne　went　beyond　Amanda's　explaining。　　The　little　lady's　dignity　had　been　stricken。　〃I　have　been　used　as　a　cloak；〃　she　wrote。　Her　phrases　were　vivid。　　She　quoted　the　very　words　of　Amanda；　words　she　had　overheard　at　Chexington　in　the　twilight。　　They　were　no　invention。　　They　were　the　very　essence　of　Amanda；　the　lover。　　It　was　as　sure　as　if　Benham　had　heard　the　sound　of　her　voice；　as　if　he　had　peeped　and　seen；　as　if　she　had　crept　by　him；　stooping　and　rustling　softly。　　It　brought　back　the　living　sense　of　her；　excited；　flushed；　reckless；　his　wild…haired　Amanda　of　infinite　delight。　。　。　。　　All　day　those　words　of　hers　pursued　him。　　All　night　they　flared　across　the　black　universe。　　He　buried　his　face　in　the　pillows　and　they　whispered　softly　in　his　ear。　He　walked　his　room　in　the　darkness　longing　to　smash　and　tear。　He　went　out　from　the　house　and　shook　his　ineffectual　fists　at　the　stirring　quiet　of　the　stars。　He　sent　no　notice　of　his　coming　back。　　Nor　did　he　come　back　with　a　definite　plan。　　But　he　wanted　to　get　at　Amanda。

26

It　was　with　Amanda　he　had　to　reckon。　　Towards　Easton　he　felt　scarcely　any　anger　at　all。　　Easton　he　felt　only　existed　for　him　because　Amanda　willed　to　have　it　so。　Such　anger　as　Easton　did　arouse　in　him　was　a　contemptuous　anger。　His　devotion　filled　Benham　with　scorn。　　His　determination　to　serve　Amanda　at　any　price；　to　bear　the　grossest　humiliations　and　slights　for　her；　his　humility；　his　service　and　tenderness；　his　care　for　her　moods　and　happiness；　seemed　to　Benham　a　treachery　to　human　nobility。　That　rage　against　Easton　was　like　the　rage　of　a　trade…unionist　against　a　blackleg。　　Are　all　the　women　to　fall　to　the　men　who　will　be　their　master…slaves　and　keepers？　　But　it　was　not　simply　that　Benham　felt　men　must　be　freed　from　this　incessant　attendance；　women　too　must　free　themselves　from　their　almost　instinctive　demand　for　an　attendant。　。　。　。　His　innate　disposition　was　to　treat　women　as　responsible　beings。　Never　in　his　life　had　he　thought　of　a　woman　as　a　pretty　thing　to　be　fooled　and　won　and　competed　for　and　fought　over。　　So　that　it　was　Amanda　he　wanted　to　reach　and　reckon　with　now；　Amanda　who　had　mated　and　ruled　his　senses　only　to　fling　him　into　this　intolerable　pit　of　shame　and　jealous　fury。　　But　the　forces　that　were　driving　him　home　now　were　the　forces　below　the　level　of　reason　and　ideas；　organic　forces　compounded　of　hate　and　desire；　profound　aboriginal　urgencies。　He　thought；　indeed；　very　little　as　he　lay　in　his　berth　or　sulked　on　deck；　his　mind　lay　waste　under　a　pitiless　invasion　of　exasperating　images　that　ever　and　again　would　so　wring　him　that　his　muscles　would　tighten　and　his　hands　clench　or　he　would　find　himself　restraining　a　snarl；　the　threat　of　the　beast；　in　his　throat。　Amanda　grew　upon　his　imagination　until　she　overshadowed　the　whole　world。　　She　filled　the　skies。　　She　bent　over　him　and　mocked　him。　She　became　a　mystery　of　passion　and　dark　beauty。　　She　was　the　sin　of　the　world。　　One　breathed　her　in　the　winds　of　the　sea。　　She　had　taken　to　herself　the　greatness　of　elemental　things。　。　。　。　So　that　when　at　last　he　saw　her　he　was　amazed　to　see　her；　and　see　that　she　was　just　a　creature　of　common　size　and　quality；　a　rather　tired　and　very　frightened…looking　white…faced　young　woman；　in　an　evening…dress　of　unfamiliar　fashion；　with　little　common　trinkets　of　gold　and　colour　about　her　wrists　and　neck。　In　that　instant's　confrontation　he　forgot　all　that　had　brought　him　homeward。　　He　stared　at　her　as　one　stares　at　a　stranger　whom　one　has　greeted　in　mistake　for　an　intimate　friend。　For　he　saw　that　she　was　no　more　the　Amanda　he　hated　and　desired　to　kill　than　she　had　ever　been　the　Amanda　he　had　loved。

27

He　took　them　by　surprise。　　It　had　been　his　intention　to　take　them　by　surprise。　　Such　is　the　inelegance　of　the　jealous　state。　He　reached　London　in　the　afternoon　and　put　up　at　a　hotel　near　Charing　Cross。　　In　the　evening　about　ten　he　appeared　at　the　house　in　Lancaster　Gate。　　The　butler　was　deferentially　amazed。　　Mrs。　Benham　was；　he　said；　at　a　theatre　with　Sir　Philip　Easton；　and　he　thought　some　other　people　also。　　He　did　not　know　when　she　would　be　back。　She　might　go　on　to　supper。　　It　was　not　the　custom　for　the　servants　to　wait　up　for　her。　Benham　went　into　the　study　that　reduplicated　his　former　rooms　in　Finacue　Street　and　sat　down　before　the　fire　the　butler　lit　for　him。　He　sent　the　man　to　bed；　and　fell　into　profound　meditation。　It　was　nearly　two　o'clock　when　he　heard　the　sound　of　her　latchkey　and　went　out　at　once　upon　the　landing。　The　half…door　stood　open　and　Easton's　car　was　outside。　　She　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　hall　and　relieved　Easton　of　the　gloves　and　fan　he　was　carrying。　〃Good…night；〃　she　said；　〃I　am　so　tired。〃　〃My　wonderful　goddess；〃　he　said。　She　yielded　herself　to　his　accustomed　embrace；　then　started；　stared；　and　wrenched　herself　out　of　his　arms。　Benham　stood　at　the　top　of　the　stairs　looking　down　upon　them；　white…　faced　and　inexpressive。　　Easton　dropped　back　a　pace。　　For　a　moment　no　one　moved　nor　spoke；　and　then　very　quietly　Easton　shut　the　half…　door　and　shut　out　the　noises　of　the　road。　For　some　seconds　Benham　regarded　them；　and　as　he　did　so　his　spirit　changed。　。　。　。　E