fraternity-第6部分

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cal；　ingredient；　binding　his　component　parts；　causing　them　to　work　together　safely；　homogeneously。　　In　Hilary　the　effect　seemed　to　have　been　otherwise；　like　some　slow　and　subtle　poison；　this　great　quality；　self…consciousness；　had　soaked　his　system　through　and　through；　permeated　every　cranny　of　his　spirit；　so　that　to　think　a　definite　thought；　or　do　a　definite　deed；　was　obviously　becoming　difficult　to　him。　　It　took　in　the　main　the　form　of　a　sort　of　gentle　desiccating　humour。

〃It's　a　remarkable　thing；〃　he　had　one　day　said　to　Stephen；　〃that　by　the　process　of　assimilating　little　bits　of　chopped…up　cattle　one　should　be　able　to　form　the　speculation　of　how　remarkable　a　thing　it　is。〃

Stephen　had　paused　a　second　before　answeringthey　were　lunching　off　roast　beef　in　the　Law　Courtshe　had　then　said：

〃You're　surely　not　going　to　eschew　the　higher　mammals；　like　our　respected　father…in…law？〃

〃On　the　contrary；〃　said　Hilary；　〃to　chew　them；　but　it　is　remarkable；　for　all　that；　you　missed　my　point。〃

It　was　clear　that　a　man　who　could　see　anything　remarkable　in　such　a　thing　was　far　gone；　and　Stephen　had　murmured：

〃My　dear　old　chap；　you're　getting　too　introspective。〃

Hilary；　having　given　his　brother　the　special　retiring　smile；　which　seemed　not　only　to　say；　〃Don't　let　me　bore　you；〃　but　also；　〃Well；　perhaps　you　had　better　wait　outside；〃　the　conversation　closed。

That　smile　of　Hilary's；　which　jibbed　away　from　things；　though　disconcerting　and　apt　to　put　an　end　to　intercourse；　was　natural　enough。　　A　sensitive　man；　who　had　passed　his　life　amongst　cultivated　people　in　the　making　of　books；　guarded　from　real　wants　by　modest；　not　vulgar；　affluence；　had　not　reached　the　age　of　forty…two　without　finding　his　delicacy　sharpened　to　the　point　of　fastidiousness。　　Even　his　dog　could　see　the　sort　of　man　he　was。　　She　knew　that　he　would　take　no　liberties；　either　with　her　ears　or　with　her　tail。　　She　knew　that　he　would　never　hold　her　mouth　ajar；　and　watch　her　teeth；　as　some　men　do；　that　when　she　was　lying　on　her　back　he　would　gently　rub　her　chest　without　giving　her　the　feeling　that　she　was　doing　wrong；　as　women　will；　and　if　she　sat；　as　she　was　sitting　now；　with　her　eyes　fixed　on　his　study　fire；　he　would　never；　she　knew；　even　from　afar；　prevent　her　thinking　of　the　nothing　she　loved　to　think　on。

In　his　study；　which　smelt　of　a　particular　mild　tobacco　warranted　to　suit　the　nerves　of　any　literary　man；　there　was　a　bust　of　Socrates；　which　always　seemed　to　have　a　strange　attraction　for　its　owner。　　He　had　once　described　to　a　fellow…writer　the　impression　produced　on　him　by　that　plaster　face；　so　capaciously　ugly；　as　though　comprehending　the　whole　of　human　life；　sharing　all　man's　gluttony　and　lust；　his　violence　and　rapacity；　but　sharing　also　his　strivings　toward　love　and　reason　and　serenity。

〃He's　telling　us；〃　said　Hilary；　〃to　drink　deep；　to　dive　down　and　live　with　mermaids；　to　lie　out　on　the　hills　under　the　sun；　to　sweat　with　helots；　to　know　all　things　and　all　men。　　No　seat；　he　says；　among　the　Wise；　unless　we've　been　through　it　all　before　we　climb！　　That's　how　he　strikes　menot　too　cheering　for　people　of　our　sort！〃

Under　the　shadow　of　this　bust　Hilary　rested　his　forehead　on　his　hand。　In　front　of　him　were　three　open　books　and　a　pile　of　manuscript；　and　pushed　to　one　side　a　little　sheaf　of　pieces　of　green…white　paper；　press…cuttings　of　his　latest　book。

The　exact　position　occupied　by　his　work　in　the　life　of　such　a　man　is　not　too　easy　to　define。　　He　earned　an　income　by　it；　but　he　was　not　dependent　on　that　income。　　As　poet；　critic；　writer　of　essays；　he　had　made　himself　a　certain　namenot　a　great　name；　but　enough　to　swear　by。　　Whether　his　fastidiousness　could　have　stood　the　conditions　of　literary　existence　without　private　means　was　now　and　then　debated　by　his　friends；　it　could　probably　have　done　so　better　than　was　supposed；　for　he　sometimes　startled　those　who　set　him　down　as　a　dilettante　by　a　horny　way　of　retiring　into　his　shell　for　the　finish　of　a　piece　of　work。

Try　as　he　would　that　morning　to　keep　his　thoughts　concentrated　on　his　literary　labour；　they　wandered　to　his　conversation　with　his　niece　and　to　the　discussion　on　Mrs。　Hughs；　the　family　seamstress；　in　his　wife's　studio　the　day　before。　　Stephen　had　lingered　behind　Cecilia　and　Thyme　when　they　went　away　after　dinner；　to　deliver　a　last　counsel　to　his　brother　at　the　garden　gate。

〃Never　meddle　between　man　and　wifeyou　know　what　the　lower　classes　are！〃

And　across　the　dark　garden　he　had　looked　back　towards　the　house。　　One　room　on　the　ground…floor　alone　was　lighted。　　Through　its　open　window　the　head　and　shoulders　of　Mr。　Stone　could　be　seen　close　to　a　small　green　reading…lamp。　　Stephen　shook　his　head；　murmuring：

〃But；　I　say；　our　old　friend；　eh？　　'In　those　placesin　those　streets！'　　It's　worse　than　simple　crankinessthe　poor　old　chap　is　getting　almost…〃

〃And；　touching　his　forehead　lightly　with　two　fingers；　he　had　hurried　off　with　the　ever…springy　step　of　one　whose　regularity　habitually　controls　his　imagination。

Pausing　a　minute　amongst　the　bushes；　Hilary　too　had　looked　at　the　lighted　window　which　broke　the　dark　front　of　his　house；　and　his　little　moonlight　bulldog；　peering　round　his　legs；　had　gazed　up　also。　Mr。　Stone　was　still　standing；　pen　in　hand；　presumably　deep　in　thought。　　His　silvered　head　and　beard　moved　slightly　to　the　efforts　of　his　brain。　　He　came　over　to　the　window；　and；　evidently　not　seeing　his　son…in…law；　faced　out　into　the　night。

In　that　darkness　were　all　the　shapes　and　lights　and　shadows　of　a　London　night　in　spring：　the　trees　in　dark　bloom；　the　wan　yellow　of　the　gas…lamps；　pale　emblems　of　the　self…consciousness　of　towns；　the　clustered　shades　of　the　tiny　leaves；　spilled；　purple；　on　the　surface　of　the　road；　like　bunches　of　black　grapes　squeezed　down　into　the　earth　by　the　feet　of　the　passers…by。　　There；　too；　were　shapes　of　men　and　women　hurrying　home；　and　the　great　blocked　shapes　of　the　houses　where　they　lived。　　A　halo　hovered　above　the　Citya　high　haze　of　yellow　light；　dimming　the　stars。　　The　black；　slow　figure　of　a　policeman　moved　noiselessly　along　the　railings　opposite。

》From　then　till　eleven　o'clock；　when　he　would　make　himself　some　cocoa　on　a　little　spirit…lamp；　the　writer　of　the　〃Book　of　Universal　Brotherhood〃　would　alternate　between　his　bent　posture　above　his　manuscript　and　his　blank　consideration　of　the　night。。。。

With　a　jerk；　Hilary　came　back　to　his　reflections　beneath　the　bust　of　Socrates。

〃Each　of　us　has　a　shadow　in　those　placesin　those　streets！〃

There　certainly　was　a　virus　in　that　notion。　　One　must　either　take　it　as　a　jest；　like　Stephen；　or；　what　must　one　do？　　How　far　was　it　one's　business　to　identify　oneself　with　other　people；　especially　the　helplesshow　far　to　preserve　oneself　intact'integer　vita'？　　Hilary　was　no　young　person；　like　his　niece　or　Martin；　to　whom　everything　seemed　simple；　nor　was　he　an　old　person　like　their　grandfather；　for　whom　life　had　lost　its　complications。

And；　very　conscious　of　his　natural　disabilities　for　a　decision　on　a　like；　or　indeed　on　any；　subject　except；　perhaps；　a　point　of　literary　technique；　he　got　up　from　his　writing…table；　and；　taking　his　little　bulldog；　went　out。　　His　intention　was　to　visit　Mrs。　Hughs　in　Hound　Street；　and　see　with　his　own　eyes　the　state　of　things。　　But　he　had　another　reason；　too；　for　wishing　to　go　there　。。。。




CHAPTER　IV

THE　LITTLE　MODEL

When　in　the　preceding　autumn　Bianca　began　her　picture　called　〃The　Shadow；〃　nobody　was　more　surprised　than　Hilary　that　she　asked　him　to　find　her　a　model　for　the　figure。　　Not　knowing　the　nature　of　the　picture；　nor　having　been　for　many　yearsperhaps　neveradmitted　into　the　workings　of　his　wife's　spirit；　he　said：

〃Why　don't　you　ask　Thyme　to　sit　for　you？〃

Blanca　answered：　〃She's　not　the　type　at　alltoo　matter…of…fact。　Besides；　I　don't　want　a　lady；　the　figure's　to　be　half　draped。〃

Hilary　smiled。

Blanca　knew　quite　well　that　he　was　smiling　at　this　distinction　between　ladies　and　other　women；　and　understood　that　he　was　smiling；　not　so　much　at　her；　but　at　himself；　for　secretly　agreeing　with　the　distinction　she　had　made。

And　suddenly　she　smiled　too。

There　was　the　whole　history　of　their　married　life　in　those　two　smiles。　　They　meant　so　much：　so　many　thousand　hours　of　suppressed　irritation；　so　many　baffled　longings　and　earnest　efforts　to　bring　their　natures　together。　　They　were　the　supreme；　quiet　evidence　of　the　divergence　of　two　livesthat　slow　divergence　which　had　been　far　from　being　wilful；　and　was　the　more　hopeless　in　that　it　had　been　so　gradual　and　so　gentle。　　They　had　never　really　had　a　quarrel；　having　enlightened　views　of　marriage；　but　they　had　smiled。　　They　had　smiled　so　often　through　so　many　years　that　no　two　people　in　the　world　could　very　well　be　further　from　each　other。　　Their　smiles　had　banned　the　revelation　even　to　themselves　of　the　tragedy　of　their　wedded　state。　It　is　certain　that　neither　could　help　those　smiles；　which　were　not　intended　to　wound；　but　came　on　their　faces　as　naturally　as　moonlight　falls　on　water；　out　of　their　inimically　constituted　souls。

Hilary　spent　two　afternoons　among　his　artist　friends；　trying；　by　means　of　the　indications　he　had　gathered；　to　find　a　model　for　〃The　Shadow。〃　　He　had　found　one　at　last。　　Her　name；　Barton；　and　address　had　been　given