the captives-第55部分

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gry　people　behind　her；　she　could　out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye　see　the　ruddy　brown　of　his　cheek　and　the　hard　thick　curve　of　his　shoulder。　She　was　his；　she　belonged　to　no　one　else　in　the　world；　she　was　his　utterly。　Utterly。　Ever　so　swiftly　and　gently　her　hand　brushed　for　an　instant　over　his；　he　responded；　crooking　his　little　finger　for　a　moment　inside　hers。　She　smiled；　she　turned　round　and　looked　at　the　people　triumphantly；　she　felt　a　deep　contented　rest　in　her　heart；　rich　and　full；　proud　and　arrogant；　the　mother；　the　lover；　the　sister；　the　child；　everything　to　him　she　was　。　。　。

People　came　in；　the　theatre　filled；　and　a　hum　of　talk　arose；　then　the　orchestra　began　to　tune；　and　soon　music　was　playing；　and　Maggie　would　have　loved　to　listen　but　the　people　must　chatter。

When　suddenly　the　lights　went　down　the　only　thing　of　which　she　was　conscious　was　that　Martin's　hand　had　suddenly　seized　hers　roughly；　sharply；　and　was　crushing　it；　pressing　the　ring　into　the　flesh　so　that　it　hurt。　Her　first　excited　wondering　thought　then　was：

〃He　doesn't　care　for　me　any　more　only　as　a　friend。There's　the　other　now　。　。　。〃　and　a　strange　shyness；　timidity；　and　triumph　overwhelmed　her　so　that　her　eyes　were　full　of　tears　and　her　body　trembling。

But　as　the　play　continued　she　must　listen。　It　was　her　very　first　play　and　soon　it　was　thrilling　to　her　so　that　she　forgot；　for　a　time；　even　Martin。　Or　rather　Martin　was　mingled　with　it；　absorbed　in　it；　part　of　it；　and　she　was　there　too　sharing　with　him　the　very　action　of　the　story。　It　was　a　very　old…fashioned　play　about　a　little　Charity　girl　who　was　brought　up　by　a　kindly　middle…aged　gentleman　who　cared　for　nothing　but　books。　He　brought　her　up　on　his　own　plan　with　a　view　to　marrying　her　afterwards。　But　meanwhile；　of　course；　she　saw　a　handsome　young　soldier　who　was　young　like　herself；　and　she　was　naturally　bored　with　the　studious　gentleman。　Maggie　shared　all　the　feelings　of　the　Charity　girl。　Had　she　been　brought　up；　say　by　a　man　like　Mr。　Trenchard　and　then　had　met　Martin；　why；　of　course；　she　could　have　gone　only　one　way。

The　soldier　was　not　like　Martin；　being　slim　and　curled　and　beautiful；　nor　was　the　studious　gentleman　like　Mr。　Trenchard；　being　thin　and　tall　with　a　face　like　a　monk　and　a　beautiful　voice。　But　the　girl　was　like　Maggie；　prettier　of　course；　and　with　artful　ways；　but　untidy　a　little　and　not　very　well　educated。　At　the　first　interval；　when　the　lights　were　up　and　the　band　was　playing　and　the　people　walking；　Martin　whispered：

〃Do　you　like　it；　Maggie？〃

〃I　love　it；〃　she　answered。

And　then　they　just　sat　there；　without　another　word　between　them；　pressed　close　together。

A　little　song　ran　through　the　playone　of　Burns's　most　famous　songs；　although　Maggie；　who　had　never　read　anything；　did　not　know　that。　The　verses　were：

O　my　luve's　like　a　red；　red　rose　That's　newly　sprung　in　June：　O　my　luve's　like　the　melodie　That's　sweetly　played　in　tune！

As　fair　art　thou；　my　bonnie　lass；　So　deep　in　luve　am　I：　And　I　will　luve　thee　still；　my　dear；　Till　a'　the　seas　gang　dry：

Till　a'　the　seas　gang　dry；　my　dear；　And　the　rocks　melt　wi'　the　sun；　I　will　luve　thee　still；　my　dear；　While　the　sands　o'　life　shall　run。

And　fare　thee　weel；　my　only　Luve；　And　fare　thee　weel　a　while！　And　I　will　come　again；　my　Luve；　Tho'　it　were　ten　thousand　mile。

First　the　handsome　soldier　sang　this　to　the　Charity　girl；　and　then；　because　it　was　a　sentimental　tune；　it　was　always　turning　up　through　the　play；　and　if　one　of　the　characters　were　not　singing　it　the　orchestra　was　quietly　playing　it。　Maggie　loved　it；　she　was　not　sentimental　but　she　was　simple；　and　the　tune　seemed　at　once　to　belong　to　herself　and　to　Martin　by　natural　right。

As　the　story　developed　it　became　more　unreal　and　Maggie's　unerring　knowledge　of　the　difference　between　sense　and　nonsense　refused　to　credit　the　tall　handsome　villainness　who　confronted　the　Charity　girl　at　the　ball。　The　Charity　girl　had　no　right　to　be　at　the　ball　and　people　stood　about　in　unnatural　groups　and　pretended　not　to　listen　to　the　loud　development　of　the　plot　and　no　one　seemed　to　use　any　of　their　faculties。　Then　at　the　end；　when　the　middle…aged　gentleman　nobly　surrendered　his　Charity　girl　to　the　handsome　soldier；　the　little　tune　came　back　again　and　all　was　well。

They　came　out　of　the　theatre　into　lights　and　shadows　and　mists　cabs　and　omnibuses　and　crowds　of　people　。　。　。　Maggie　clung　to　Martin's　arm。　It　seemed　to　her；　dazzled　for　an　instant；　that　a　great　are　of　white　piercing　light　cut　the　black　street　and　that　in　the　centre　of　this　arc　a　tree；　painted　green；　stood；　and　round　the　tree　figures；　dark　shapes；　and　odd　shadows　danced。　She　shaded　her　eyes　with　her　hand。　The　long　shining　line　of　Shaftesbury　Avenue　ran　out；　from　her　feet；　into　thick　clusters　of　silver　lights。　The　tree　had　vanished　and　now　there　were　policemen　and　ladies　in　hats　and　strange　mysterious　houses。　She　caught　above　it　all；　between　the　roofs；　the　pale　flat　river　of　the　evening　sky　and　in　this　river　stars　like　golden　buttons　floated。　The　moon　was　there　too；　a　round　amber　coin　with　the　laughing　face　stamped　upon　it。

〃What　time　is　it？〃　she　asked　Martin。

〃Half…past　five；〃　he　said。　〃How　early　the　moon　rises。　It's　only　climbing　now。　See　the　chimney's　tossing　it　about。〃

〃I　must　get　home。〃

〃No；　no。〃　He　held　her　arm　fiercely。　〃You　must　come　to　tea。　That's　part　of　the　programme。　We　have　plenty　of　time　before　seven　o'clock。〃　She　knew　that　she　ought　to　return。　Something　seemed　to　tell　her；　as　she　stood　there；　that　now　was　the　moment　to　break　this　off。　But　when　his　hand　was　on　her　arm；　when　he　was　so　close　to　her；　she　could　not　leave　him。　She　would　have　one　hour　more　。　。　。　He　took　her　across　the　street；　down　into　darkness；　up　into　light。　Then　they　went　into　a　shop；　up　some　stairs；　and　were　suddenly　in　a　little　room　with　a　table　with　a　cloth；　a　window　looking　out　into　the　lamp…lit　square；　cherry…coloured　curtains　and　gay　hunting　pictures　on　the　walls。　Martin　pushed　a　bell　in　the　wall　and　a　stout　waiter；　perspiring；　smiling；　a　napkin　in　his　hand；　came　to　the　door。　〃Tea；〃　said　Martin；　and　he　vanished。　〃It's　all　right；〃　he　said；　drawing　her　to　a　creaking　wicker　armchair　near　the　empty　fireplace。　〃No　one　will　interrupt　us。　They　know　me　here。　I　ordered　the　room　yesterday。〃　Tea　came；　but　she　could　not　eat　anything。　In　some　strange　way　that　moment　in　the　theatre　when　he　had　pressed　her　hand　had　altered　everything。　She　recognised　in　herself　a　new　Maggie；　she　was　excited　with　a　thick　burning　excitement；　she　was　almost　sleepy　with　the　strain　of　it　and　her　cheeks　were　hot；　but　her　throat　icy　cold。　When　she　told　him　that　she　wasn't　hungry；　he　said；　〃I'm　not　either。〃　Then　he　added；　not　looking　at　her；　〃That　fellow　won't　be　back　for　an　hour。〃　He　came　and　stood　by　her　looking　down　on　her。　He　bent　forward　over　the　chair　and　put　his　hands　under　her　chin　and　pressed　her　face　up　towards　his。　But　he　did　not　kiss　her。　Then　he　took　her　hands　and　pulled　her　gently　out　of　the　chair；　sat　down　on　it　himself；　then；　still　very　tenderly；　put　his　arms　round　her　and　drew　her　down　to　him。　She　lay　back　against　him；　her　cheek　against　his；　his　arms　tight　around　her。　He　whispered　to　her　again　and　again；　〃Darling　。　。　。　Darling　。　。　。　Darling。〃　She　felt　now　so　terribly　part　of　him　that　she　seemed　to　have　lost　all　her　own　identity。　His　hands；　softly；　tenderly　passed　up　and　down　her　body；　stroking　her　hair；　her　cheeks；　her　arms。　Her　mouth　was　against　his　cheek　and　she　was　utterly　motionless；　shivering　a　little　sometimes　and　once　her　hand　moved　up　and　caught　his　and　then　moved　away　again。　At　last；　as　it　seemed　from　an　infinite　distance；　his　voice　came　to　her；　speaking　to　her。　〃Maggie；　darling；〃　he　said；　〃don't　go　back　till　late　to…night。　You　can　say　that　those　people　asked　you　to　stay　to　dinner。　Your　aunts　can't　do　anything。　Nothing　can　happen。　Stay　with　me　here　and　then　later　we'll　go　and　have　dinner　at　a　little　place　I　know　。　。　。　and　then　come　back　here　。　。　。　come　back　here　。　。　。　like　this。　Maggie；　darling；　say　you　will。　You　must。　We　mayn't　have　another　chance　for　so　long。　You're　coming　to　me　afterwards。　What　does　it　matter；　a　week　or　two　earlier？　What　does　it　matter；　Maggie？　Stay　here。　Let　us　love　one　another　and　have　something　to　think　about　。　。　。　to　remember　。　。　。　to　remember　。　。　。　to　remember　。　。　。〃　His　voice　seemed　to　slip　away　into　infinity　as　voices　in　a　dream　do。　She　could　not　say　anything　because　she　was　in　a　dream　too。　She　could　only　feel　his　hand　stroking　her　face。　He　seemed　to　take　her　silence　for　consent。　He　suddenly　kissed　her　furiously；　pressing　her　head　back　until　it　hurt。　That　woke　her。　She　pushed　his　arms　back　and　sprang　up。　Her　hands　were　trembling。　She　shook　her　head。　〃No；　Martin。　No；　not　now。〃　〃Why　not？〃　He　looked　at　her　angrily　from　the　chair。　His　face　was　altered；　he　was　frowning；　his　eyes　were　dark。　〃I'm　not　going　to　stay　now。〃　Her　voice　shook　in　spite　of　herself。　With　shaking　hands　she　patted　her　dress。　〃Why　not？〃　he　asked　again。　〃I'm　not。　I　promised　the　aunts。　Not　now。　It　would　spoil　everything。〃　〃Oh；　very　well。〃　He　was　furious　with　her。　He　wouldn't　meet　her　eyes。　〃Not　now。〃　She　felt　that　she　would　cry；　tears　flooded　her　eyes。　〃It's　been　so　lovely　。　。　。　Martin　。　。　。　Don't　look　like　that。　Oh；　I　love　you　too　much！〃　She　broke　off。　With　a　sudden　move