the island pharisees-第46部分

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for　three　shillin's　a　week；　don't　you　think　so；　sir？　　Well；　then　I

shall　be　all　right。　　I　'm　not　afraid　now；　the　mind　at　rest。　　So　long

as　I　ran　keep　myself；　that's　all　I　want。　　I　shall　do　first…rate；　I

think〃；　and　he　stared　at　Shelton；　but　the　look　in　his　eyes　and　the

half…scared　optimism　of　his　voice　convinced　the　latter　that　he　lived

in　dread。　　〃So　long　as　I　can　keep　myself；〃　he　said　again；　〃I　sha'n't

need　no　workhouse　nor　lose　respectability。〃



〃No；〃　thought　Shelton；　and　for　some　time　sat　without　a　word。　　〃When

you　can；〃　he　said　at　last；　〃come　and　see　me；　here's　my　card。〃



The　aged　butler　became　conscious　with　a　jerk；　for　he　was　nodding。



〃Thank　ye；　sir；　I　will；〃　he　said；　with　pitiful　alacrity。　　〃Down　by

Belgravia？　　Oh；　I　know　it　well；　I　lived　down　in　them　parts　with　a

gentleman　of　the　name　of　Batesonperhaps　you　knew　him；　he　's　dead

nowthe　Honourable　Bateson。　　Thank　ye；　sir；　I'll　be　sure　to　come〃；

and；　snatching　at　his　battered　hat；　he　toilsomely　secreted　Shelton's

card　amongst　his　character。　　A　minute　later　he　began　again　to　nod。



The　policeman　passed　a　second　time；　his　gaze　seemed　to　say；　〃Now；

what's　a　toff　doing　on　that　seat　with　those　two　rotters？〃　　And

Shelton　caught　his　eye。



〃Ah！〃　　he　thought；　〃exactly！　　You　don't　know　what　to　make　of　mea

man　of　my　position　sitting　here！　　Poor　devil！　to　spend　your　days　in

spying　on　your　fellow…creatures！　　Poor　devil！　　But　you　don't　know

that　you　're　a　poor　devil；　and　so　you　're　not　one。〃



The　man　on　the　next　bench　sneezeda　shrill　and　disapproving　sneeze。



The　policeman　passed　again；　and；　seeing　that　the　lower　creatures　were

both　dozing；　he　spoke　to　Shelton：



〃Not　very　safe　on　these　'ere　benches；　sir；〃　he　said；　〃you　never　know

who　you　may　be　sittin'　next　to。　　If　I　were　you；　sir；　I　should　be

gettin'　onif　you　're　not　goin'　to　spend　the　night　here；　that　is〃；

and　he　laughed；　as　at　an　admirable　joke。



Shelton　looked　at　him；　and　itched　to　say；　〃Why　shouldn't　I？〃　but　it

struck　him　that　it　would　sound　very　odd。　　〃Besides；〃　he　thought；　〃I

shall　only　catch　a　cold〃；　and；　without　speaking；　he　left　the　seat；

and　went　along　towards　his　rooms。









CHAPTER　XXXIII



THE　END



He　reached　his　rooms　at　midnight　so　exhausted　that；　without　waiting

to　light　up；　he　dropped　into　a　chair。　　The　curtains　and　blinds　had

been　removed　for　cleaning；　and　the　tall　windows　admitted　the　night's

staring　gaze。　　Shelton　fixed　his　eyes　on　that　outside　darkness；　as

one　lost　man　might　fix　his　eyes　upon　another。



An　unaired；　dusty　odour　clung　about　the　room；　but；　like　some　God…sent

whiff　of　grass　or　flowers　wafted　to　one　sometimes　in　the　streets；　a

perfume　came　to　him；　the　spice　from　the　withered　clove　carnation

still　clinging；　to　his　button…hole；　and　he　suddenly　awoke　from　his。

queer　trance。　　There　was　a　decision　to　be　made。　　He　rose　to　light　a

candle；　the　dust　was　thick　on　everything　he　touched。　　〃Ugh！〃　　he

thought；　〃how　wretched！〃　　and　the　loneliness　that　had　seized　him　on

the　stone　seat　at　Holm　Oaks　the　day　before　returned　with　fearful

force。



On　his　table；　heaped　without　order；　were　a　pile　of　bills　and

circulars。　　He　opened　them；　tearing　at　their　covers　with　the　random

haste　of　men　back　from　their　holidays。　　A　single　long　envelope　was

placed　apart。



MY　DEAR　DICK　＇he　read＇；



I　enclose　you　herewith　the　revised　draft　of　your　marriage　settlement。

It　is　now　shipshape。　　Return　it　before　the　end　of　the　week；　and　I

will　have　it　engrossed　for　signature。　　I　go　to　Scotland　next

Wednesday　for　a　month；　shall　be　back　in　good　time　for　your　wedding。

My　love　to　your　mother　when　you　see　her。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Your…affectionate　uncle；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　EDMUND　PARAMOR。





Shelton　smiled　and　took　out　the　draft。



〃This　Indenture　made　the____day　of　190_；　between　Richard　Paramor

Shelton…〃



He　put　it　down　and　sank　back　in　his　chair；　the　chair　in　which　the

foreign　vagrant　had　been　wont　to　sit　on　mornings　when　he　came　to

preach　philosophy。



He　did　not　stay　there　long；　but　in　sheer　unhappiness　got　up；　and；

taking　his　candle；　roamed　about　the　room；　fingering　things；　and

gazing　in　the　mirror　at　his　face；　which　seemed　to　him　repulsive　in

its　wretchedness。　　He　went　at　last　into　the　hall　and　opened　the　door；

to　go　downstairs　again　into　the　street；　but　the　sudden　certainty

that；　in　street　or　house；　in　town　or　country；　he　would　have　to　take

his　trouble　with　him；　made　him　shut　it　to。　　He　felt　in　the　letter…

box；　drew　forth　a　letter；　and　with　this　he　went　back　to　the　sitting…

room。



It　was　from　Antonia。　　And　such　was　his　excitement　that　he　was　forced

to　take　three　turns　between　the　window　and　the　wall　before　he　could

read；　then；　with　a　heart　beating　so　that　he　could　hardly　hold　the

paper；　he　began：



I　was　wrong　to　ask　you　to　go　away。　　I　see　now　that　it　was　breaking　my

promise；　and　I　did　n't　mean　to　do　that。　　I　don't　know　why　things　have

come　to　be　so　different。　　You　never　think　as　I　do　about　anything。



I　had　better　tell　you　that　that　letter　of　Monsieur　Ferrand's　to

mother　was　impudent。　　Of　course　you　did　n't　know　what　was　in　it；　but

when　Professor　Brayne　was　asking　you　about　him　at　breakfast；　I　felt

that　you　believed　that　he　was　right　and　we　were　wrong；　and　I　can't

understand　it。　　And　then　in　the　afternoon；　when　that　woman　hurt　her

horse；　it　was　all　as　if　you　were　on　her　side。　　How　can　you　feel　like

that？



I　must　say　this；　because　I　don't　think　I　ought　to　have　asked　you　to

go　away；　and　I　want　you　to　believe　that　I　will　keep　my　promise；　or　I

should　feel　that　you　and　everybody　else　had　a　right　to　condemn　me。

I　was　awake　all　last　night；　and　have　a　bad　headache　this　morning。　　I

can't　write　any　more。



ANTONIA。





His　first　sensation　was　a　sort　of　stupefaction　of　relief　that　had　in

it　an　element　of　anger。　　He　was　reprieved！　　She　would　not　break　her

promise；　she　considered　herself　bound！　　In　the　midst　of　the

exaltation　of　this　thought　he　smiled；　and　that　smile　was　strange。



He　read　it　through　again；　and；　like　a　judge；　began　to　weigh　what　she

had　written；　her　thoughts　when　she　was　writing；　the　facts　which　had

led　up　to　this。



The　vagrant's　farewell　document　had　done　the　business。　　True　to　his

fatal　gift　of　divesting　things　of　clothing；　Ferrand　had　not　vanished

without　showing　up　his　patron　in　his　proper　colours；　even　to　Shelton

those　colours　were　made　plain。　　Antonia　had　felt　her　lover　was　a

traitor。　　Sounding　his　heart　even　in　his　stress　of　indecision；

Shelton　knew　that　this　was　true。



〃Then　in　the　afternoon；　when　that　woman　hurt　her　horse…〃　　That　woman！

〃It　was　as　if　you　were　on　her　side！〃



He　saw　too　well　her　mind；　its　clear　rigidity；　its　intuitive

perception　of　that　with　which　it　was　not　safe　to　sympathise；　its

instinct　for　self…preservation；　its　spontaneous　contempt　for　those

without　that　instinct。　　And　she　had　written　these　words　considering

herself　bound　to　hima　man　of　sentiment；　of　rebellious　sympathies；

of　untidiness　of　principle！　　Here　was　the　answer　to　the　question　he

had　asked　all　day：　〃How　have　things　come　to　such　a　pass？〃　and　he

began　to　feel　compassion　for　her。



Poor　child！　　She　could　not　jilt　him；　there　was　something　vulgar　in

the　word！　　Never　should　it　be　said　that　Antonia　Dennant　had　accented

him　and　thrown　him　over。　　No　lady　did　these　things！　　They　were

impossible！　　At　the　bottom　of　his　heart　he　had　a　queer；　unconscious

sympathy　with；　this　impossibility。



Once　again　he　read　the　letter；　which　seemed　now　impregnated　with

fresh　meaning；　and　the　anger　which　had　mingled　with　his　first

sensation　of　relief　detached　itself　and　grew　in　force。　　In　that

letter　there　was　something　tyrannous；　a　denial　of　his　right　to　have　a

separate　point　of　view。　　It　was　like　a　finger　pointed　at　him　as　an

unsound　person。　　In　marrying　her　he　would　be　marrying　not　only　her；

but　her　classhis　class。　　She　would　be　there　always　to　make　him　look

on　her　and　on　himself；　and　all　the　people　that　they　knew　and　all　the

things　they　did；　complacently；　she　would　be　there　to　make　him　feel

himself　superior　to　everyone　whose　life　was　cast　in　other　moral

moulds。　　To　feel　himself　superior；　not　blatantly；　not　consciously；

but　with　subconscious　righteousness。



But　his　anger；　which　was　like　the　paroxysm　that　two　days　before　had

made　him　mutter　at　the　Connoisseur；　〃I　hate　your　d…d　superiority；〃

struck　him　all　at　once　as　impotent　and　ludicrous。　　What　was　the　good

of　being　angry？　　He　was　on　the　point　of　losing　her！　　And　the　anguish

of　that　thought；　reacting　on　his　anger；　intensified　it　threefold。

She　was　so　certain　of　herself；　so　superior　to　her　emotions；　to　her

natural　impulsessuperior　to　her　very　longing　to　be　free　from　him。

Of　that　fact；　at　all　events；　Shelton　had　no　longer　any　doubt。　　It　was

beyond　argument。　　She　did　not　really　love　him；　she　wanted　to　be　free

of　him！



A　photograph　hung　in　his　bedroom　at　Holm　Oaks　of　a　group　round　the

hall　door；　the　Honoura