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！
you need。〃
117
… Page 118…
CROME YELLOW
CHAPTER XXI。
Perched on its four stone mushrooms； the little granary stood two or
three feet above the grass of the green close。 Beneath it there was a
perpetual shade and a damp growth of long； luxuriant grasses。 Here； in
the shadow； in the green dampness； a family of white ducks had sought
shelter from the afternoon sun。 Some stood； preening themselves； some
reposed with their long bellies pressed to the ground； as though the cool
grass were water。 Little social noises burst fitfully forth； and from time to
time some pointed tail would execute a brilliant Lisztian tremolo。
Suddenly their jovial repose was shattered。 A prodigious thump shook
the wooden flooring above their heads； the whole granary trembled； little
fragments of dirt and crumbled wood rained down among them。 With a
loud； continuous quacking the ducks rushed out from beneath this
nameless menace； and did not stay their flight till they were safely in the
farmyard。
〃Don't lose your temper；〃 Anne was saying。 〃Listen！ You've
frightened the ducks。 Poor dears！ no wonder。〃 She was sitting
sideways in a low； wooden chair。 Her right elbow rested on the back of
the chair and she supported her cheek on her hand。 Her long； slender
body drooped into curves of a lazy grace。 She was smiling； and she
looked at Gombauld through half…closed eyes。
〃Damn you！〃 Gombauld repeated； and stamped his foot again。 He
glared at her round the half…finished portrait on the easel。
〃Poor ducks！〃 Anne repeated。 The sound of their quacking was faint
in the distance； it was inaudible。
〃Can't you see you make me lose my time？〃 he asked。 〃I can't work
with you dangling about distractingly like this。〃
〃You'd lose less time if you stopped talking and stamping your feet
and did a little painting for a change。 After all； what am I dangling about
for； except to be painted？〃
Gombauld made a noise like a growl。 〃You're awful；〃 he said； with
conviction。 〃Why do you ask me to come and stay here？ Why do you
tell me you'd like me to paint your portrait？〃
118
… Page 119…
CROME YELLOW
〃For the simple reasons that I like youat least； when you're in a good
temperand that I think you're a good painter。〃
〃For the simple reason〃Gombauld mimicked her voice〃that you
want me to make love to you and； when I do； to have the amusement of
running away。〃
Anne threw back her head and laughed。 〃So you think it amuses me
to have to evade your advances！ So like a man！ If you only knew how
gross and awful and boring men are when they try to make love and you
don't want them to make love！ If you could only see yourselves through
our eyes！〃
Gombauld picked up his palette and brushes and attacked his canvas
with the ardour of irritation。 〃I suppose you'll be saying next that you
didn't start the game； that it was I who made the first advances； and that
you were the innocent victim who sat still and never did anything that
could invite or allure me on。〃
〃So like a man again！〃 said Anne。 〃It's always the same old story
about the woman tempting the man。 The woman lures； fascinates； invites；
and mannoble man； innocent manfalls a victim。 My poor Gombauld！
Surely you're not going to sing that old song again。 It's so unintelligent；
and I always thought you were a man of sense。〃
〃Thanks；〃 said Gombauld。
〃Be a little objective；〃 Anne went on。 〃Can't you see that you're
simply externalising your own emotions？ That's what you men are
always doing； it's so barbarously naive。 You feel one of your loose
desires for some woman； and because you desire her strongly you
immediately accuse her of luring you on； of deliberately provoking and
inviting the desire。 You have the mentality of savages。 You might just
as well say that a plate of strawberries and cream deliberately lures you on
to feel greedy。 In ninety…nine cases out of a hundred women are as passive
and innocent as the strawberries and cream。〃
〃Well； all I can say is that this must be the hundredth case；〃 said
Gombauld； without looking up。
Anne shrugged her shoulders and gave vent to a sigh。 〃I'm at a loss
to know whether you're more silly or more rude。〃
119
… Page 120…
CROME YELLOW
After painting for a little time in silence Gombauld began to speak
again。 〃And then there's Denis；〃 he said； renewing the conversation as
though it had only just been broken off。 〃You're playing the same game
with him。 Why can't you leave that wretched young man in peace？〃
Anne flushed with a sudden and uncontrollable anger。 〃It's perfectly
untrue about Denis；〃 she said indignantly。 〃I never dreamt of playing
what you beautifully call the same game with him。〃 Recovering her calm；
she added in her ordinary cooing voice and with her exacerbating smile；
〃You've become very protective towards poor Denis all of a sudden。〃
〃I have；〃 Gombauld replied； with a gravity that was somehow a little
too solemn。 〃I don't like to see a young man。。。〃
〃。。。being whirled along the road to ruin；〃 said Anne； continuing his
sentence for him。 I admire your sentiments and； believe me； I share
them。〃
She was curiously irritated at what Gombauld had said about Denis。
It happened to be so completely untrue。 Gombauld might have some
slight ground for his reproaches。 But Denisno； she had never flirted
with Denis。 Poor boy！ He was very sweet。 She became somewhat
pensive。
Gombauld painted on with fury。 The restlessness of an unsatisfied
desire； which； before； had distracted his mind； making work impossible；
seemed now to have converted itself into a kind of feverish energy。
When it was finished； he told himself； the portrait would be diabolic。 He
was painting her in the pose she had naturally adopted at the first sitting。
Seated sideways； her elbow on the back of the chair； her head and
shoulders turned at an angle from the rest of her body； towards the front；
she had fallen into an attitude of indolent abandonment。 He had
emphasised the lazy curves of her body； the lines sagged as they crossed
the canvas； the grace of the painted figure seemed to be melting into a
kind of soft decay。 The hand that lay along the knee was as limp as a
glove。 He was at work on the face now； it had begun to emerge on the
canvas； doll…like in its regularity and listlessness。 It was Anne's facebut
her face as it would be； utterly unillumined by the inward lights of thought
and emotion。 It was the lazy； expressionless mask which was sometimes
120
… Page 121…
CROME YELLOW
her face。 The portrait was terribly like； and at the same time it was the
most malicious of lies。 Yes； it would be diabolic when it was finished；
Gombauld decided； he wondered what she would think of it。
121
… Page 122…
CROME YELLOW
CHAPTER XXII。
For the sake of peace and quiet Denis had retired earlier on this same
afternoon to his bedroom。 He wanted to work； but the hour was a drowsy
one； and lunch； so recently eaten； weighed heavily on body and mind。
The meridian demon was upon him； he was possessed by that bored and
hopeless post…prandial melancholy which the coeno