the dark flower-第39章

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herself：　'If　he　wants　me　he　will　not　let　me　go。'　　Strange　little
tribute　to　her　faith　in　love　and　her　own　youth！

They　had　come　somehow　to　Pall　Mall　by　now。　　And　scared　to　find
himself　so　deep　in　the　hunting…ground　of　the　Dromores；　Lennan
turned　hastily　towards　St。　James's　Park；　that　they　might　cross　it
in　the　dark；　round　to　Piccadilly。　　To　be　thus　slinking　out　of　the
world's　sight　with　the　daughter　of　his　old　room…mateof　all　men　in
the　world　the　last　perhaps　that　he　should　do　this　to！　　A　nice
treacherous　business！　　But　the　thing　men　called　honourwhat　was
it；　when　her　eyes　were　looking　at　him　and　her　shoulder　touching
his？

Since　he　had　spoken　those　words；　〃Yes；　I　want　you；〃　she　had　been
silentfearful　perhaps　to　let　other　words　destroy　their　comfort。
But　near　the　gate　by　Hyde　Park　Corner　she　put　her　hand　again　into
his；　and　again　her　voice；　so　clear；　said：

〃I　don't　want　to　hurt　anybody；　but　you　WILL　let　me　come　sometimes
you　will　let　me　see　youyou　won't　leave　me　all　alone；　thinking
that　I'll　never　see　you　again？〃

And　once　more；　without　knowing　what　he　answered；　Lennan　murmured：

〃No；　no！　　It'll　be　all　right；　dearit'll　all　come　right。　　It　must
and　shall。〃

Again　her　fingers　twined　amongst　his；　like　a　child's。　　She　seemed
to　have　a　wonderful　knowledge　of　the　exact　thing　to　say　and　do　to
keep　him　helpless。　　And　she　went　on：

〃I　didn't　try　to　love　youit　isn't　wrong　to　loveit　wouldn't　hurt
her。　　I　only　want　a　little　of　your　love。〃

A　littlealways　a　little！　　But　he　was　solely　bent　on　comforting
her　now。　　To　think　of　her　going　home；　and　sitting　lonely；
frightened；　and　unhappy；　all　the　evening；　was　dreadful。　　And
holding　her　fingers　tight；　he　kept　on　murmuring　words　of　would…be
comfort。

Then　he　saw　that　they　were　out　in　Piccadilly。　　How　far　dared　he　go
with　her　along　the　railings　before　he　said　good…bye？　　A　man　was
coming　towards　them；　just　where　he　had　met　Dromore　that　first　fatal
afternoon　nine　months　ago；　a　man　with　a　slight　lurch　in　his　walk
and　a　tall；　shining　hat　a　little　on　one　side。　　But　thank　Heaven！
it　was　not　Dromoreonly　one　somewhat　like　him；　who　in　passing
stared　sphinx…like　at　Nell。　　And　Lennan　said：

〃You　must　go　home　now；　child；　we　mustn't　be　seen　together。〃

For　a　moment　he　thought　she　was　going　to　break　down；　refuse　to
leave　him。　　Then　she　threw　up　her　head；　and　for　a　second　stood　like
that；　quite　motionless；　looking　in　his　face。　　Suddenly　stripping
off　her　glove；　she　thrust　her　warm；　clinging　hand　into　his。　　Her
lips　smiled　faintly；　tears　stood　in　her　eyes；　then　she　drew　her
hand　away　and　plunged　into　the　traffic。　　He　saw　her　turn　the　corner
of　her　street　and　disappear。　　And　with　the　warmth　of　that
passionate　little　hand　still　stinging　his　palm；　he　almost　ran
towards　Hyde　Park。

Taking　no　heed　of　direction；　he　launched　himself　into　its　dark
space；　deserted　in　this　cold；　homeless　wind；　that　had　little　sound
and　no　scent；　travelling　its　remorseless　road　under　the　grey…black
sky。

The　dark　firmament　and　keen　cold　air　suited　one　who　had　little　need
of　aids　to　emotionone　who　had；　indeed；　but　the　single　wish　to　get
rid；　if　he　only　could；　of　the　terrible　sensation　in　his　head；　that
bruised；　battered；　imprisoned　feeling　of　a　man　who　paces　his　cell
never；　never　to　get　out　at　either　end。　　Without　thought　or
intention　he　drove　his　legs　along；　not　running；　because　he　knew
that　he　would　have　to　stop　the　sooner。　　Alas！　what　more　comic
spectacle　for　the　eyes　of　a　good　citizen　than　this　married　man　of
middle　age；　striding　for　hours　over　those　dry；　dark；　empty
pastureshunted　by　passion　and　by　pity；　so　that　he　knew　not　even
whether　he　had　dined！　　But　no　good　citizen　was　abroad　of　an　autumn
night　in　a　bitter　easterly　wind。　　The　trees　were　the　sole　witnesses
of　this　grim　exercisethe　trees；　resigning　to　the　cold　blast　their
crinkled　leaves　that　fluttered　past　him；　just　a　little　lighter　than
the　darkness。　　Here　and　there　his　feet　rustled　in　the　drifts；
waiting　their　turn　to　serve　the　little　bonfires；　whose　scent　still
clung　in　the　air。　　A　desperate　walk；　in　this　heart　of　Londonround
and　round；　up　and　down；　hour　after　hour；　keeping　always　in　the
dark；　not　a　star　in　the　sky；　not　a　human　being　spoken　to　or　even
clearly　seen；　not　a　bird　or　beast；　just　the　gleam　of　the　lights　far
away；　and　the　hoarse　muttering　of　the　traffic！　　A　walk　as　lonely　as
the　voyage　of　the　human　soul　is　lonely　from　birth　to　death　with
nothing　to　guide　it　but　the　flickering　glow　from　its　own　frail
spirit　lighted　it　knows　not　where。　。　。　。

And；　so　tired　that　he　could　hardly　move　his　legs；　but　free　at　last
of　that　awful　feeling　in　his　headfree　for　the　first　time　for　days
and　daysLennan　came　out　of　the　Park　at　the　gate　where　he　had　gone
in；　and　walked　towards　his　home；　certain　that　tonight；　one　way　or
the　other；　it　would　be　decided。　。　。　。


XV


This　thenthis　long　trouble　of　body　and　of　spiritwas　what　he
remembered；　sitting　in　the　armchair　beyond　his　bedroom　fire；
watching　the　glow；　and　Sylvia　sleeping　there　exhausted；　while　the
dark　plane…tree　leaves　tap…tapped　at　the　window　in　the　autumn　wind；
watching；　with　the　uncanny　certainty　that；　he　would　not　pass　the
limits　of　this　night　without　having　made　at　last　a　decision　that
would　not　alter。　　For　even　conflict　wears　itself　out；　even
indecision　has　this　measure　set　to　its　miserable　powers　of　torture；
that　any　issue　in　the　end　is　better　than　the　hell　of　indecision
itself。　　Once　or　twice　in　those　last　days　even　death　had　seemed　to
him　quite　tolerable；　but　now　that　his　head　was　clear　and　he　had
come　to　grips；　death　passed　out　of　his　mind　like　the　shadow　that　it
was。　　Nothing　so　simple；　extravagant；　and　vain　could　serve　him。
Other　issues　had　reality；　deathnone。　　To　leave　Sylvia；　and　take
this　young　love　away；　there　was　reality　in　that；　but　it　had　always
faded　as　soon　as　it　shaped　itself；　and　now　once　more　it　faded。　　To
put　such　a　public　and　terrible　affront　on　a　tender　wife　whom　he
loved；　do　her　to　death；　as　it　were；　before　the　world's　eyesand
then；　ever　remorseful；　grow　old　while　the　girl　was　still　young？　　He
could　not。　　If　Sylvia　had　not　loved　him；　yes；　or；　even　if　he　had
not　loved　her；　or　if；　again；　though　loving　him　she　had　stood　upon
her　rightsin　any　of　those　events　he　might　have　done　it。　　But　to
leave　her　whom　he　did　love；　and　who　had　said　to　him　so　generously：
〃I　will　not　hamper　yougo　to　her〃would　be　a　black　atrocity。
Every　memory；　from　their　boy…and…girl　lovering　to　the　desperate
clinging　of　her　arms　these　last　two　nightsmemory　with　its
innumerable　tentacles；　the　invincible　strength　of　its　countless
threads；　bound　him　to　her　too　fast。　　What　then？　　Must　it　come；
after　all；　to　giving　up　the　girl？　　And　sitting　there；　by　that　warm
fire；　he　shivered。　　How　desolate；　sacrilegious；　wasteful　to　throw
love　away；　to　turn　from　the　most　precious　of　all　gifts；　to　drop　and
break　that　vase！　　There　was　not　too　much　love　in　the　world；　nor　too
much　warmth　and　beautynot；　anyway；　for　those　whose　sands　were
running　out；　whose　blood　would　soon　be　cold。

Could　Sylvia　not　let　him　keep　both　her　love　and　the　girl's？　　Could
she　not　bear　that？　　She　had　said　she　could；　but　her　face；　her　eyes；
her　voice　gave　her　the　lie；　so　that　every　time　he　heard　her　his
heart　turned　sick　with　pity。　　This；　then；　was　the　real　issue。
Could　he　accept　from　her　such　a　sacrifice；　exact　a　daily　misery；
see　her　droop　and　fade　beneath　it？　　Could　he　bear　his　own　happiness
at　such　a　cost？　　Would　it　be　happiness　at　all？　　He　got　up　from　the
chair　and　crept　towards　her。　　She　looked　very　fragile　sleeping
there！　　The　darkness　below　her　closed　eyelids　showed　cruelly　on
that　too　fair　skin；　and　in　her　flax…coloured　hair　he　saw　what　he
had　never　noticeda　few　strands　of　white。　　Her　softly　opened　lips；
almost　colourless；　quivered　with　her　uneven　breathing；　and　now　and
again　a　little　feverish　shiver　passed　up　as　from　her　heart。　　All
soft　and　fragile！　　Not　much　life；　not　much　strength；　youth　and
beauty　slipping！　　To　know　that　he　who　should　be　her　champion
against　age　and　time　would　day　by　day　be　placing　one　more　mark　upon
her　face；　one　more　sorrow　in　her　heart！　　That　he　should　do　this
they　both　going　down　the　years　together！

As　he　stood　there　holding　his　breath；　bending　to　look　at　her；　that
slurring　swish　of　the　plane…tree　branch；　flung　against　and　against
the　window　by　the　autumn　wind；　seemed　filling　the　whole　world。
Then　her　lips　moved　in　one　of　those　little；　soft　hurrying　whispers
that　unhappy　dreamers　utter；　the　words　all　blurred　with　their
wistful　rushing。

And　he　thought：　I；　who　believe　in　bravery　and　kindness；　I；　who　hate
crueltyif　I　do　this　cruel　thing；　what　shall　I　have　to　live　for；
how　shall　I　work；　how　bear　myself？　　If　I　do　it；　I　am　lostan
outcast　from　my　own　faitha　renegade　from　all　that　I　believe　in。

And；　kneeling　there　close　to　that　face　so　sad　and　lonely；　that
heart　so　beaten　even　in　its　sleep；　he　knew　that　he　could　not　do　it
knew　it　with　sudden　certainty；　and　a　curious　sense　of　peace。
Over！the　long　struggleover　at　last！　　Youth　with　youth；　summer
to　summer；　falling　leaf　with　falling　leaf！　　And　behind　him　the　fire
flickered；　and　the　plane…tree　leaves　tap…tapped。

He　rose；　and　crept　away　stealthily　downstairs　into　the　drawing…
room；　and　through　the　window　at　the　far　end　out　into　the　courtyard；
where　he　had　sat　that　day　by　the　hydrangea；　listening　to　the　piano…
organ。　　Very　dark　and　cold　and　eerie　it　was　there；　and　he　hurried
across　to　his　studio。　　There；　too；　it　was　cold；　and　dark；　and
eerie；　with　its　ghostly　plaster　presences；　stale　scent　of
cigarettes；　and　just　one　glowing　ember　of　the　fire　he　had　left　when
he　rushed　out　after　Nellthose　seven　hours　ago。

He　went　first　to　the　bureau；　turned　up　its　lamp；　and　taking　out
some　sheets　of　paper；　marked　on　them　directions　for　his　various
works；　for　the　statuette　of　Nell；　he　noted　that　it　should　be　taken
with　his　compliments　to　Mr。　Dromore。　　He　wrote　a　letter　to　his
banker　directing　money　to　be　sent　to　Rome；　and　to　his　solicitor
telling　him　to　let　the　house。　　He　wrote　quickly。　　If　Sylvia　woke；
and　found　him　still　away；　what　might　she　not　think？　　He　took　a　last
sheet。　　Did　it　matter　what　he　wrote；　what　deliberate　lie；　if　it
helped　Nell　over　the　first　shock？


〃DEAR　NELL；

〃I　write　this　hastily　in　the　early　hours；　to　say　that　we　are　called
out　to　Italy　to　my　only　sister；　who　is　very　ill。　　We　leave　by　the
first　morning　boat；　and　may　be　away　some　time。　　I　will　write　again。
Don't　fret；　and　God　bless　you。

〃M。　L。〃


He　could　not　see　very　well　as　he　wrote。　　Poor；　loving；　desperate
child！　　Well；　she　had　youth　and　strength；　and　would　soon　have
Oliver！　　And　he　took　yet　another　sheet。


〃DEAR　OLIVER；

〃My　wife　and　I　are　obliged　to　go　post…haste　to　Italy。　　I　watched
you　both　at　the　dance　the　other　night。　　Be　very　gentle　with　Nell；
andgood　luck　to　you！　　But　don't　say　again　that　I　told　you　to　be
patient；　it　is　hardly　the　way　to　make　her　love　you。

〃M。　LENNAN。〃


That；　then；　was　allyes；　all！　　He　turned　out　the　little　lamp；　and
groped　towards　the　hearth。　　But　one　thing　left。　　To　say　good…bye！
To　her；　and　Youth；　and　Passion！to　the　only　salve　for　the　aching
that　Spring　and　Beauty　bringthe　aching　for　the　wild；　the
passionate；　the　new；　that　never　qui