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the island pharisees-第16章

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a little bird; looked at her son with shining eyes。



〃Dear old Dick!〃  she said; 〃how happy you must be!〃



Half a century of sympathy with weddings of all sortsgood; bad;

indifferentbeamed from her。



〃I suppose;〃 said Shelton gloomily; 〃I ought not to go and see her at

the station。〃



〃Cheer up!〃  replied the mother; and her son felt dreadfully

depressed。



That 〃Cheer…up!〃the panacea which had carried her blind and bright

through every evilwas as void of meaning to him as wine without a

flavour。



〃And how is your sciatica?〃 he asked。



〃Oh; pretty bad;〃 returned his mother; 〃I expect it's all right;

really。  Cheer up!〃  She stretched her little figure; canting her

head still more。



〃Wonderful woman!〃  Shelton thought。  She had; in fact; like many of

her fellow…countrymen; mislaid the darker side of things; and;

enjoying the benefits of orthodoxy with an easy conscience; had kept

as young in heart as any girl of thirty。



Shelton left her house as doubtful whether he might meet Antonia as

when he entered it。  He spent a restless afternoon。



The next daythat of her arrivalwas a Sunday。  He had made Ferrand

a promise to go with him to hear a sermon in the slums; and; catching

at any diversion which might allay excitement; he fulfilled it。  The

preacher in questionan amateur; so Ferrand told himhad an

original method of distributing the funds that he obtained。  To male

sheep he gave nothing; to ugly female sheep a very little; to pretty

female sheep the rest。  Ferrand hazarded an inference; but he was a

foreigner。  The Englishman preferred to look upon the preacher as

guided by a purely abstract love of beauty。  His eloquence; at any

rate; was unquestionable; and Shelton came out feeling sick。



It was not yet seven o'clock; so; entering an Italian restaurant to

kill the half…hour before Antonia's arrival; he ordered a bottle of

wine for his companion; a cup of coffee for himself; and; lighting a

cigarette; compressed his lips。  There was a strange; sweet sinking

in his heart。  His companion; ignorant of this emotion; drank his

wine; crumbled his roll; and blew smoke through his nostrils;

glancing caustically at the rows of little tables; the cheap mirrors;

the hot; red velvet; the chandeliers。  His juicy lips seemed to be

murmuring; 〃Ah! if you only knew of the dirt behind these feathers!〃

Shelton watched him with disgust。  Though his clothes were now so

nice; his nails were not quite clean; and his fingertips seemed

yellow to the bone。  An anaemic waiter in a shirt some four days old;

with grease…spots on his garments and a crumpled napkin on his arm;

stood leaning an elbow amongst doubtful fruits; and reading an

Italian journal。  Resting his tired feet in turn; he looked like

overwork personified; and when he moved; each limb accused the sordid

smartness of the walls。  In the far corner sat a lady eating; and;

mirrored opposite; her feathered hat; her short; round face; its coat

of powder; and dark eyes; gave Shelton a shiver of disgust。  His

companion's gaze rested long and subtly on her。



〃Excuse me; monsieur;〃 he said at length。  〃I think I know that

lady!〃  And; leaving his host; he crossed the room; bowed; accosted

her; and sat down。  With Pharisaic delicacy; Shelton refrained from

looking。  But presently Ferrand came back; the lady rose and left the

restaurant; she had been crying。  The young foreigner was flushed;

his face contorted; he did not touch his wine。



〃I was right;〃 he said; 〃she is the wife of an old friend。  I used to

know her well。〃



He was suffering from emotion; but someone less absorbed than Shelton

might have noticed a kind of relish in his voice; as though he were

savouring life's dishes; and glad to have something new; and spiced

with tragic sauce; to set before his patron。



〃You can find her story by the hundred in your streets; but nothing

hinders these paragons of virtue〃he nodded at the stream of

carriages〃from turning up their eyes when they see ladies of her

sort pass。  She came to Londonjust three years ago。  After a year

one of her little boys took feverthe shop was avoidedher husband

caught it; and died。  There she was; left with two children and

everything gone to pay the debts。  She tried to get work; no one

helped her。  There was no money to pay anyone to stay with the

children; all the work she could get in the house was not enough to

keep them alive。  She's not a strong woman。  Well; she put the

children out to nurse; and went to the streets。  The first week was

frightful; but now she's used to itone gets used to anything。〃



〃Can nothing be done?〃 asked Shelton; startled。



〃No;〃 returned his companion。  〃I know that sort; if they once take

to it all's over。  They get used to luxury。  One does n't part with

luxury; after tasting destitution。  She tells me she does very

nicely; the children are happy; she's able to pay well and see them

sometimes。  She was a girl of good family; too; who loved her

husband; and gave up much for him。  What would you have?  Three

quarters of your virtuous ladies placed in her position would do the

same if they had the necessary looks。〃



It was evident that he felt the shock of this discovery; and Shelton

understood that personal acquaintance makes a difference; even in a

vagabond。



〃This is her beat;〃 said the young foreigner; as they passed the

illuminated crescent; where nightly the shadows of hypocrites and

women fall; and Shelton went from these comments on Christianity to

the station of Charing Cross。  There; as he stood waiting in the

shadow; his heart was in his mouth; and it struck him as odd that he

should have come to this meeting fresh from a vagabond's society。



Presently; amongst the stream of travellers; he saw Antonia。  She was

close to her mother; who was parleying with a footman; behind them

were a maid carrying a bandbox and a porter with the travelling…bags。

Antonia's figure; with its throat settled in the collar of her cape;

slender; tall; severe; looked impatient and remote amongst the

bustle。  Her eyes; shadowed by the journey; glanced eagerly about;

welcoming all she saw; a wisp of hair was loose above her ear; her

cheeks glowed cold and rosy。  She caught sight of Shelton; and

bending her neck; stag…like; stood looking at him; a brilliant smile

parted her lips; and Shelton trembled。  Here was the embodiment of

all he had desired for weeks。  He could not tell what was behind that

smile of herspassionate aching or only some ideal; some chaste and

glacial intangibility。  It seemed to be shining past him into the

gloomy station。  There was no trembling and uncertainty; no rage of

possession in that brilliant smile; it had the gleam of fixedness;

like the smiling of a star。  What did it matter?  She was there;

beautiful as a young day; and smiling at him; and she was his; only

divided from him by a space of time。  He took a step; her eyes fell

at once; her face regained aloofness; he saw her; encircled by

mother; footman; maid; and porter; take her seat and drive away。

It was over; she had seen him; she had smiled; but alongside his

delight lurked another feeling; and; by a bitter freak; not her face

came up before him but the face of that lady in the restaurant

short; round; and powdered; with black…circled eyes。  What right had

we to scorn them?  Had they mothers; footmen; porters; maids?  He

shivered; but this time with physical disgust; the powdered face with

dark…fringed eyes had vanished; the fair; remote figure of the

railway…station came back again。



He sat long over dinner; drinking; dreaming; he sat long after;

smoking; dreaming; and when at length he drove away; wine and dreams

fumed in his brain。  The dance of lamps; the cream…cheese moon; the

rays of clean wet light on his horse's harness; the jingling of the

cab bell; the whirring wheels; the night air and the branchesit was

all so good!  He threw back the hansom doors to feel the touch of the

warm breeze。  The crowds on the pavement gave him strange delight;

they were like shadows; in some great illusion; happy shadows;

thronging; wheeling round the single figure of his world。









CHAPTER XII



ROTTEN ROW



With a headache and a sense of restlessness; hopeful and unhappy;

Shelton mounted his hack next morning for a gallop in the Park。



In the sky was mingled all the languor and the violence of the

spring。  The trees and flowers wore an awakened look in the gleams of

light that came stealing down from behind the purple of the clouds。

The air was rain…washed; and the passers by seemed to wear an air of

tranquil carelessness; as if anxiety were paralysed by their

responsibility of the firmament。



Thronged by riders; the Row was all astir。



Near to Hyde Park Corner a figure by the rails caught Shelton's eye。

Straight and thin; one shoulder humped a little; as if its owner were

reflecting;
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