按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
expect to travel too fast with her。 Had he not at least gained a signal
victory？ When he remembered her lipswhich she had indubitably given
him！he increased his stride； and in what seemed an incredibly brief
time he had recrossed the bridge； covered the long residential blocks of
Warren Street； and gained his own door。
The house was quiet； the children having gone to bed； and he groped his
way through the dark parlour to his den； turning on the electric switch；
sinking into an armchair； and lighting a cigar。 He liked this room of
his； which still retained something of that flavour of a refuge and
sanctuary it had so eminently possessed in the now forgotten days of
matrimonial conflict。 One of the few elements of agreement he had held
in common with the late Mrs。 Ditmar was a similarity of taste in
household decoration； and they had gone together to a great emporium in
Boston to choose the furniture and fittings。 The lamp in the centre of
the table was a bronze column supporting a hemisphere of heavy red and
emerald glass； the colours woven into an intricate and bizarre design；
after the manner of the art nouveauso the zealous salesman had informed
them。 Cora Ditmar； when exhibiting this lamp to admiring visitors； had
remembered the phrase； though her pronunciation of it； according to the
standard of the Sorbonne； left something to be desired。 The table and
chairs； of heavy； shiny oak marvellously and precisely carved by
machines； matched the big panels of the wainscot。 The windows were high
in the wall； thus preventing any intrusion from the clothes…yard on which
they looked。 The bookcases； protected by leaded panes； held countless
volumes of the fiction from which Cora Ditmar had derived her knowledge
of the great world outside of Hampton； together with certain sets she had
bought； not only as ornaments； but with a praiseworthy view to future
culture；such as Whitmarsh's Library of the Best Literature。 These
volumes； alas； were still uncut； but some of the pages of the novelsif
one cared to open themwere stained with chocolate。 The steam radiator
was a decoration in itself； the fireplace set in the red and yellow tiles
that made the hearth。 Above the oak mantel； in a gold frame； was a large
coloured print of a Magdalen； doubled up in grief； with a glory of loose；
Titian hair； chosen by Ditmar himself as expressing the nearest possible
artistic representation of his ideal of the female form。 Cora Ditmar's
objections on the score of voluptuousness and of insufficient clothing
had been vain。 She had recognized no immorality of sentimentality in the
art itself； what she felt； and with some justice； was that this
particular Magdalen was unrepentant； and that Ditmar knew it。 And the
picture remained an offence to her as long as she lived。 Formerly he had
enjoyed the contemplation of this figure； reminding him； as it did； of
mellowed moments in conquests of the past； suggesting also possibilities
of the future。 For he had been quick to discount the attitude of bowed
despair； the sop flung by a sensuous artist to Christian orthodoxy。 He
had been sceptical about despairfeminine despair； which could always be
cured by gifts and baubles。 But to…night； as he raised his eyes； he felt
a queer sensation marring the ecstatic perfection of his mood。 That
quality in the picture which so long had satisfied and entranced him had
now become repellent； an ugly significant reflection of something
something in himself he was suddenly eager to repudiate and deny。
It was with a certain amazement that he found himself on his feet with
the picture in his hand； gazing at the empty space where it had hung。
For he had had no apparent intention of obeying that impulse。 What
should he do with it？ Light the fire and burn itframe and all？ The
frame was an integral part of it。 What would his housekeeper say？ But
now that he had actually removed it from the wall he could not replace
it； so he opened the closet door and thrust it into a corner among relics
which had found refuge there。 He had put his past in the closet； yet the
relief he felt was mingled with the peculiar qualm that follows the
discovery of symptoms never before remarked。 Why should this woman have
this extraordinary effect of making him dissatisfied with himself？ He
sat down again and tried to review the affair from that first day when he
had surprised in her eyes the flame dwelling in her。 She had completely
upset his life； increasingly distracted his mind until now he could
imagine no peace unless he possessed her。 Hitherto he had recognized in
his feeling for her nothing but that same desire he had had for other
women； intensified to a degree never before experienced。 But this sudden
access of moralityhe did not actually define it as suchwas
disquieting。 And in the feverish； semi…objective survey he was now
making of his emotional tract he was discovering the presence of other
disturbing symptoms such as an unwonted tenderness； a consideration
almost amounting to pity which at times he had vaguely sensed yet never
sought imaginatively to grasp。 It bewildered him by hampering a
ruthlessness hitherto absolute。 The fierceness of her inflamed his
passion； yet he recognized dimly behind this fierceness an instinct of
selfprotectionand he thought of her in this moment as a struggling bird
that fluttered out of his hands when they were ready to close over her。
So it had been to…night。 He might have kept her； prevented her from
taking the car。 Yet he had let her go！ There came again； utterly to
blot this out； the memory of her lips。
Even then； there had been something sorrowful in that kiss； a quality he
resented as troubling； a flavour that came to him after the wildness was
spent。 What was she struggling against？ What was behind her resistance？
She loved him！ It had never before occurred to him to enter into the
nature of her feelings； having been so preoccupied with and tortured by
his own。 This realization； that she loved him； as it persisted； began to
make him uneasy； though it should； according to all experience； have been
a reason for sheer exultation。 He began to see that with her it involved
complications； responsibilities； disclosures； perhaps all of those things
he had formerly avoided and resented in woman。 He thought of certain
friends of his who had become tangled upof one in particular whose bank
account had been powerless to extricate him。。。。 And he was ashamed of
himself。
In view of the nature of his sex experience； of his habit of applying his
imagination solely to matters of business rather than to affairs of the
heart；if his previous episodes may be so designated；his failure to
surmise that a wish for marriage might be at the back of her resistance
is not so surprising as it may seem； he laid down； half smoked； his third
cigar。 The suspicion followed swiftly on his recalling to mind her
vehement repudiation of his proffered gifts did he think she wanted what
he could buy for her！ She was not purchasablethat way。 He ought to
have known it； he hadn't realized what he was saying。 But marriage！
Literally it had never occurred to him to image her in a relation he
himself associated with shackles。 One of the unconscious causes of his
fascination was just her emancipation from and innocence of that herd…
convention to which most womeneven those who lack wedding ringsare
slaves。 The force of such an appeal to a man of Ditmar's type must not
be underestimated。 And the idea that she； too； might prefer the sanction
of the law； the gilded cage as a popular song which once had taken his
fancy illuminatingly expressed itseemed utterly incongruous with the
freedom and daring of her spirit； was a sobering shock。 Was he prepared
to marry her； if he could obtain her in no other way？ The question
demanded a survey of his actual position of which he was at the moment
incapable。 There were his children！ He had never sought to arrive at
even an approximate estimate of the boy and girl as factors in his life；
to consider his feelings toward them； but now； though he believed himself
a man who gave no weight to social considerationshe had scorned this
tendency in his wifehe was to realize the presence of ambitions for
them。 He was young； he was astonishingly successful； he had reason to
think； with his opportunities and the investments he already had made；
that he might some day be moderately rich； and he had at times even
imagined himself in later life as the possessor of one of those elaborate
country places to be glimpsed from the high roads in certain localities；
which the sophisticated are able to recognize as the seats of the
socially ineligible； but which to Ditmar were outward and visible emblems
of success。 He liked to think of George as the inheritor of such a
place； as the son of a millionaire； as a 〃college graduate；〃 as an
influential man of affairs； he liked to imagine Amy as the wife of such
another。 In short； Ditmar's wife had left him； as an unconscious legacy；
her aspirations for their children's social prestige。。。。
The polished oak grandfather's clock in the hall had struck one before he
went to bed； menta