The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第56部分

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She　would　have　liked　to　hang　back；　but　she　was　more　ashamed　to
retreat　from　him　than　to　expose　herself　to　the　crowd　or　to　dare
the　swingboat。　His　eyes　laughed；　and　standing　before　her　with
his　sharp；　sudden　figure；　he　set　the　boat　swinging。　She　was　not
afraid；　she　was　thrilled。　His　colour　flushed；　his　eyes　shone
with　a　roused　light；　and　she　looked　up　at　him；　her　face　like　a
flower　in　the　sun；　so　bright　and　attractive。　So　they　rushed
through　the　bright　air；　up　at　the　sky　as　if　flung　from　a
catapult；　then　falling　terribly　back。　She　loved　it。　The　motion
seemed　to　fan　their　blood　to　fire；　they　laughed；　feeling　the
flames。

After　the　swingboats；　they　went　on　the　roundabouts　to　calm
down；　he　twisting　astride　on　his　jerky　wooden　steed　towards　her；
and　always　seeming　at　his　ease；　enjoying　himself。　A　zest　of
antagonism　to　the　convention　made　him　fully　himself。　As　they　sat
on　the　whirling　carousal；　with　the　music　grinding　out；　she　was
aware　of　the　people　on　the　earth　outside；　and　it　seemed　that　he
and　she　were　riding　carelessly　over　the　faces　of　the　crowd；
riding　for　ever　buoyantly；　proudly；　gallantly　over　the　upturned
faces　of　the　crowd；　moving　on　a　high　level；　spurning　the　mon
mass。

When　they　must　descend　and　walk　away；　she　was　unhappy；
feeling　like　a　giant　suddenly　cut　down　to　ordinary　level；　at　the
mercy　of　the　mob。

They　left　the　fair；　to　return　for　the　dog…cart。　Passing　the
large　church；　Ursula　must　look　in。　But　the　whole　interior　was
filled　with　scaffolding；　fallen　stone　and　rubbish　were　heaped　on
the　floor；　bits　of　plaster　crunched　underfoot；　and　the　place
re…echoed　to　the　calling　of　secular　voices　and　to　blows　of　the
hammer。

She　had　e　to　plunge　in　the　utter　gloom　and　peace　for　a
moment；　bringing　all　her　yearning；　that　had　returned　on　her
uncontrolled　after　the　reckless　riding　over　the　face　of　the
crowd；　in　the　fair。　After　pride；　she　wanted　fort；　solace；　for
pride　and　scorn　seemed　to　hurt　her　most　of　all。

And　she　found　the　immemorial　gloom　full　of　bits　of　falling
plaster；　and　dust　of　floating　plaster；　smelling　of　old　lime；
having　scaffolding　and　rubbish　heaped　about；　dust　cloths　over
the　altar。

〃Let　us　sit　down　a　minute；〃　she　said。

They　sat　unnoticed　in　the　back　pew；　in　the　gloom；　and　she
watched　the　dirty；　disorderly　work　of　bricklayers　and
plasterers。　Workmen　in　heavy　boots　walking　grinding　down　the
aisles；　calling　out　in　a　vulgar　accent：

〃Hi；　mate；　has　them　corner　mouldin's　e？〃

There　were　shouts　of　coarse　answer　from　the　roof　of　the
church。　The　place　echoed　desolate。

Skrebensky　sat　close　to　her。　Everything　seemed　wonderful；　if
dreadful　to　her；　the　world　tumbling　into　ruins；　and　she　and　he
clambering　unhurt；　lawless　over　the　face　of　it　all。　He　sat　close
to　her；　touching　her；　and　she　was　aware　of　his　influence　upon
her。　But　she　was　glad。　It　excited　her　to　feel　the　press　of　him
upon　her；　as　if　his　being　were　urging　her　to　something。

As　they　drove　home；　he　sat　near　to　her。　And　when　he　swayed　to
the　cart；　he　swayed　in　a　voluptuous；　lingering　way；　against　her；
lingering　as　he　swung　away　to　recover　balance。　Without　speaking；
he　took　her　hand　across；　under　the　wrap；　and　with　his　unseeing
face　lifted　to　the　road；　his　soul　intent；　he　began　with　his　one
hand　to　unfasten　the　buttons　of　her　glove；　to　push　back　her
glove　from　her　hand；　carefully　laying　bare　her　hand。　And　the
close…working；　instinctive　subtlety　of　his　fingers　upon　her　hand
sent　the　young　girl　mad　with　voluptuous　delight。　His　hand　was　so
wonderful；　intent　as　a　living　creature　skilfully　pushing　and
manipulating　in　the　dark　underworld；　removing　her　glove　and
laying　bare　her　palm；　her　fingers。　Then　his　hand　closed　over
hers；　so　firm；　so　close；　as　if　the　flesh　knitted　to　one　thing
his　hand　and　hers。　Meanwhile　his　face　watched　the　road　and　the
ears　of　the　horse；　he　drove　with　steady　attention　through　the
villages；　and　she　sat　beside　him；　rapt；　glowing；　blinded　with　a
new　light。　Neither　of　them　spoke。　In　outward　attention　they　were
entirely　separate。　But　between　them　was　the　pact　of　his　flesh
with　hers；　in　the　hand…clasp。

Then；　in　a　strange　voice；　affecting　nonchalance　and
superficiality　he　said　to　her：

〃Sitting　in　the　church　there　reminded　me　of　Ingram。〃

〃Who　is　Ingram？〃　she　asked。

She　also　affected　calm　superficiality。　But　she　knew　that
something　forbidden　was　ing。

〃He　is　one　of　the　other　men　with　me　down　at　Chatham……a
subaltern……but　a　year　older　than　I　am。〃

〃And　why　did　the　church　remind　you　of　him？〃

〃Well；　he　had　a　girl　in　Rochester；　and　they　always　sat　in　a
particular　corner　in　the　cathedral　for　their　love…making。〃

〃How　nice！〃　she　cried；　impulsively。

They　misunderstood　each　other。

〃It　had　its　disadvantages　though。　The　verger　made　a　row　about
it。〃

〃What　a　shame！　Why　shouldn't　they　sit　in　a　cathedral？〃

〃I　suppose　they　all　think　it　a　profanity……except　you　and
Ingram　and　the　girl。〃

〃I　don't　think　it　a　profanity……I　think　it's　right；　to
make　love　in　a　cathedral。〃

She　said　this　almost　defiantly；　in　despite　of　her　own
soul。

He　was　silent。

〃And　was　she　nice？〃

〃Who？　Emily？　Yes；　she　was　rather　nice。　She　was　a　milliner；
and　she　wouldn't　be　seen　in　the　streets　with　Ingram。　It　was
rather　sad；　really；　because　the　verger　spied　on　them；　and　got　to
know　their　names　and　then　made　a　regular　row。　It　was　a　mon
tale　afterwards。〃

〃What　did　she　do？〃

〃She　went　to　London；　into　a　big　shop。　Ingram　still　goes　up　to
see　her。〃

〃Does　he　love　her？〃

〃It's　a　year　and　a　half　he's　been　with　her　now。〃

〃What　was　she　like？〃

〃Emily？　Little；　shy…violet　sort　of　girl　with　nice
eyebrows。〃

Ursula　meditated　this。　It　seemed　like　real　romance　of　the
outer　world。

〃Do　all　men　have　lovers？〃　she　asked；　amazed　at　her　own
temerity。　But　her　hand　was　still　fastened　with　his；　and　his　face
still　had　the　same　unchanging　fixity　of　outward　calm。

〃They're　always　mentioning　some　amazing　fine　woman　or　other；
and　getting　drunk　to　talk　about　her。　Most　of　them　dash　up　to
London　the　moment　they　are　free。〃

〃What　for？〃

〃To　some　amazing　fine　woman　or　other。〃

〃What　sort　of　woman？〃

〃Various。　Her　name　changes　pretty　frequently；　as　a　rule。　One
of　the　fellows　is　a　perfect　maniac。　He　keeps　a　suit…case　always
ready；　and　the　instant　he　is　at　liberty；　he　bolts　with　it　to　the
station；　and　changes　in　the　train。　No　matter　who　is　in　the
carriage；　off　he　whips　his　tunic；　and　performs　at　least　the　top
half　of　his　toilet。〃

Ursula　quivered　and　wondered。

〃Why　is　he　in　such　a　hurry？〃　she　asked。

Her　throat　was　being　hard　and　difficult。

〃He's　got　a　woman　in　his　mind；　I　suppose。〃

She　was　chilled；　hardened。　And　yet　this　world　of　passions　and
lawlessness　was　fascinating　to　her。　It　seemed　to　her　a　splendid
recklessness。　Her　adventure　in　life　was　beginning。　It　seemed
very　splendid。

That　evening　she　stayed　at　the　Marsh　till　after　dark；　and
Skrebensky　escorted　her　home。　For　she　could　not　go　away　from
him。　And　she　was　waiting；　waiting　for　something　more。

In　the　warm　of　the　early　night；　with　the　shadows　new　about
them；　she　felt　in　another；　harder；　more　beautiful；　less　personal
world。　Now　a　new　state　should　e　to　pass。

He　walked　near　to　her；　and　with　the　same；　silent；　intent
approach　put　his　arm　round　her　waist；　and　softly；　very　softly；
drew　her　to　him；　till　his　arm　was　hard　and　pressed　in　upon　her；
she　seemed　to　be　carried　along；　floating；　her　feet　scarce
touching　the　ground；　borne　upon　the　firm；　moving　surface　of　his
body；　upon　whose　side　she　seemed　to　lie；　in　a　delicious　swoon　of
motion。　And　whilst　she　swooned；　his　face　bent　nearer　to　her；　her
head　was　leaned　on　his　shoulder；　she　felt　his　warm　breath　on　her
face。　Then　softly；　oh　softly；　so　softly　that　she　seemed　to　faint
away；　his　lips　touched　her　cheek；　and　she　drifted　through
strands　of　heat　and　darkness。

Still　she　waited；　in　her　swoon　and　her　drifting；　waited；　like
the　Sleeping　Beauty　in　the　story。　She　waited；　and　again　his　face
was　bent　to　hers；　his　lips　came　warm　to　her　face；　their
footsteps　lingered　and　ceased；　they　stood　still　under　the　trees；
whilst　his　lips　waited　on　her　face；　waited　like　a　butterfly　that
does　not　move　on　a　flower。　She　pressed　her　breast　a　little
nearer　to　him；　he　moved；　put　both　his　arms　round　her；　and　drew
her　close。

And　then；　in　the　darkness；　he　bent　to　her　mouth；　softly；　and
touched　her　mouth　with　his　mouth。　She　was　afraid；　she　lay　still
on　his　arm；　feeling　his　lips　on　her　lips。　She　kept　still；
helpless。　Then　his　mouth　drew　near；　pressing　open　her　mouth；　a
hot；　drenching　surge　rose　within　her；　she　opened　her　lips　to
him；　in　pained；　poignant　eddies　she　drew　him　nearer；　she　let　him
e　farther；　his　lips　came　and　surging；　surging；　soft；　oh　soft；
yet　oh；　like　the　powerful　surge　of　water；　irresistible；　till
with　a　little　blind　cry；　she　broke　away。

She　heard　him　breathing　heavily；　strangely；　beside　her。　A
terrible　and　magnificent　sense　of　his　strangeness　possessed　her。
But　she　shrank　a　little　now；　within　herself。　Hesitating；　they
continued　to　walk　on；　quivering　like　shadows　under　the　ash　trees
of　the　hill；　where　her　grandfather　had　walked　with　his　daffodils
to　make　his　proposal；　and　where　her　mother　had　gone　with　her
young　husband；　walking　close　upon　him　as　Ursula　was　now　walking
upon　Skrebensky。

Ursula　was　aware　of　the　dark　limbs　of　the　trees　stretching
overhead；　clothed　with　leaves；　and　of　fine　ash　leaves　tressing
the　summer　night。

They　walked　with　their　bodies　moving　in　plex　unity；　close
together。　He　held　her　hand；　and　they　went　the　long　way　round　by
the　road；　to　be　farther。　Always　she　felt　as　if　she　were
supported　off　her　feet；　as　if　her　feet　were　light　as　little
breezes　in　motion。

He　would　kiss　her　again……but　not　again　that　night　with
the　same　deep……reaching　kiss。　She　was　aware　now；　aware　of
what　a　kiss　might　be。　And　so；　it　was　more　difficult　to　e　to
him。

She　went　to　bed　feeling　all　warm　with　electric　warmth；　as　if
the　gush　of　dawn　were　within　her；　upholding　her。　And　she　slept
deeply；　sweetly；　oh；　so　sweetly。　In　the　morning　she　felt　sound
as　an　ear　of　wheat；　fragrant　and　firm　and　full。

They　continued　to　be　lovers；　in　the　first　wondering　state　of
unrealization。　Ursula　told　nobody；　she　was　entirely　lost　in　her
own　world。

Yet　some　strange　affectation　made　her　seek　for　a　spurious
confidence。　She　had　at　school　a　quiet；　meditative；
serious…souled　friend　called　Ethel；　and　to　Ethel　must　Ursula
confide　the　story。　Ethel　listened　absorbedly；　with　bowed；
unbetraying　head；　whilst　Ursula　told　her　secret。　Oh；　it　was　so
lovely；　his　gentle；　delicate　way　of　making　love！　Ursula　talked
like　a　practiced　lover。

〃Do　you　think；〃　asked　Ursula；　〃it　is　wicked　to　let　a　man　kiss
you……real　kisses；　not　flirting？〃

〃I　should　think；〃　said　Ethel；　〃it　depends。〃

〃He　kissed　me　under　the　ash　trees　on　Cossethay　hill……do
you　think　it　was　wrong？〃

〃When？〃

〃On　Thursday　night　when　he　was　seeing　me　home……but　real
kisses……real……。　He　is　an　officer　in　the　army。〃

〃What　time　was　it？〃　asked　the　deliberate　Ethel。

〃I　don't　know……about　half…past　nine。〃

There　was　a　pause。

〃I　think　it's　wrong；〃　said　Ethel；　lifting　her　head　with
impatience。　〃You　don't　know　him。〃

She　spoke　with　some　contempt。

〃Yes；　I　do。　He　is　half　a　Pole；　and　a　Ba