the turn of the screw-第22章

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Yet　it　did　reach　him。　　〃Did　I　STEAL？〃



I　felt　myself　redden　to　the　roots　of　my　hair　as　well　as　wonder　if　it　were

more　strange　to　put　to　a　gentleman　such　a　question　or　to　see　him　take　it

with　allowances　that　gave　the　very　distance　of　his　fall　in　the　world。

〃Was　it　for　that　you　mightn't　go　back？〃



The　only　thing　he　felt　was　rather　a　dreary　little　surprise。

〃Did　you　know　I　mightn't　go　back？〃



〃I　know　everything。〃



He　gave　me　at　this　the　longest　and　strangest　look。　　〃Everything？〃



〃Everything。　　Therefore　DID　you？〃　But　I　couldn't　say　it　again。



Miles　could；　very　simply。　　〃No。　I　didn't　steal。〃



My　face　must　have　shown　him　I　believed　him　utterly；　yet　my　hands

but　it　was　for　pure　tendernessshook　him　as　if　to　ask　him　why；

if　it　was　all　for　nothing；　he　had　condemned　me　to　months　of　torment。

〃What　then　did　you　do？〃



He　looked　in　vague　pain　all　round　the　top　of　the　room　and　drew　his　breath；

two　or　three　times　over；　as　if　with　difficulty。　　He　might　have　been　standing

at　the　bottom　of　the　sea　and　raising　his　eyes　to　some　faint　green　twilight。

〃WellI　said　things。〃



〃Only　that？〃



〃They　thought　it　was　enough！〃



〃To　turn　you　out　for？〃



Never；　truly；　had　a　person　〃turned　out〃　shown　so　little

to　explain　it　as　this　little　person！　　He　appeared　to　weigh

my　question；　but　in　a　manner　quite　detached　and　almost　helpless。

〃Well；　I　suppose　I　oughtn't。〃



〃But　to　whom　did　you　say　them？〃



He　evidently　tried　to　remember；　but　it　droppedhe　had　lost　it。

〃I　don't　know！〃



He　almost　smiled　at　me　in　the　desolation　of　his　surrender；

which　was　indeed　practically；　by　this　time；　so　complete　that　I

ought　to　have　left　it　there。　　But　I　was　infatuatedI　was　blind

with　victory；　though　even　then　the　very　effect　that　was　to　have

brought　him　so　much　nearer　was　already　that　of　added　separation。

〃Was　it　to　everyone？〃　　I　asked。



〃No；　it　was　only　to〃　But　he　gave　a　sick　little　headshake。

〃I　don't　remember　their　names。〃



〃Were　they　then　so　many？〃



〃Noonly　a　few。　　Those　I　liked。〃



Those　he　liked？　　I　seemed　to　float　not　into　clearness；　but　into

a　darker　obscure；　and　within　a　minute　there　had　come　to　me　out

of　my　very　pity　the　appalling　alarm　of　his　being　perhaps　innocent。

It　was　for　the　instant　confounding　and　bottomless；　for　if　he

WERE　innocent；　what　then　on　earth　was　_I_？　　Paralyzed；　while　it　lasted；

by　the　mere　brush　of　the　question；　I　let　him　go　a　little；　so　that；

with　a　deep…drawn　sigh；　he　turned　away　from　me　again；　which；　as　he　faced

toward　the　clear　window；　I　suffered；　feeling　that　I　had　nothing

now　there　to　keep　him　from。　　〃And　did　they　repeat　what　you　said？〃

I　went　on　after　a　moment。



He　was　soon　at　some　distance　from　me；　still　breathing　hard　and　again　with

the　air；　though　now　without　anger　for　it；　of　being　confined　against　his　will。

Once　more；　as　he　had　done　before；　he　looked　up　at　the　dim　day　as　if；　of　what

had　hitherto　sustained　him；　nothing　was　left　but　an　unspeakable　anxiety。

〃Oh；　yes；〃　he　nevertheless　replied〃they　must　have　repeated　them。

To　those　THEY　liked；〃　he　added。



There　was；　somehow；　less　of　it　than　I　had　expected；　but　I　turned　it　over。

〃And　these　things　came　round？〃



〃To　the　masters？　　Oh；　yes！〃　he　answered　very　simply。

〃But　I　didn't　know　they'd　tell。〃



〃The　masters？　　They　didn'tthey've　never　told。

That's　why　I　ask　you。〃



He　turned　to　me　again　his　little　beautiful　fevered　face。

〃Yes；　it　was　too　bad。〃



〃Too　bad？〃



〃What　I　suppose　I　sometimes　said。　　To　write　home。〃



I　can't　name　the　exquisite　pathos　of　the　contradiction　given　to　such

a　speech　by　such　a　speaker；　I　only　know　that　the　next　instant　I

heard　myself　throw　off　with　homely　force：　　〃Stuff　and　nonsense！〃

But　the　next　after　that　I　must　have　sounded　stern　enough。

〃What　WERE　these　things？〃



My　sternness　was　all　for　his　judge；　his　executioner；　yet　it　made　him

avert　himself　again；　and　that　movement　made　ME；　with　a　single　bound

and　an　irrepressible　cry；　spring　straight　upon　him。　　For　there　again；

against　the　glass；　as　if　to　blight　his　confession　and　stay　his　answer；

was　the　hideous　author　of　our　woethe　white　face　of　damnation。

I　felt　a　sick　swim　at　the　drop　of　my　victory　and　all　the　return　of　my　battle；

so　that　the　wildness　of　my　veritable　leap　only　served　as　a　great　betrayal。

I　saw　him；　from　the　midst　of　my　act；　meet　it　with　a　divination；

and　on　the　perception　that　even　now　he　only　guessed；　and　that　the　window

was　still　to　his　own　eyes　free；　I　let　the　impulse　flame　up　to　convert

the　climax　of　his　dismay　into　the　very　proof　of　his　liberation。

〃No　more；　no　more；　no　more！〃　　I　shrieked；　as　I　tried　to　press　him　against　me；

to　my　visitant。



〃Is　she　HERE？〃　Miles　panted　as　he　caught　with　his　sealed　eyes

the　direction　of　my　words。　　Then　as　his　strange　〃she〃　staggered

me　and；　with　a　gasp；　I　echoed　it；　〃Miss　Jessel；　Miss　Jessel！〃

he　with　a　sudden　fury　gave　me　back。



I　seized；　stupefied；　his　suppositionsome　sequel　to　what　we

had　done　to　Flora；　but　this　made　me　only　want　to　show　him

that　it　was　better　still　than　that。　　〃It's　not　Miss　Jessel！

But　it's　at　the　windowstraight　before　us。　　It's　THERE

the　coward　horror；　there　for　the　last　time！〃



At　this；　after　a　second　in　which　his　head　made　the　movement　of　a

baffled　dog's　on　a　scent　and　then　gave　a　frantic　little　shake　for　air

and　light；　he　was　at　me　in　a　white　rage；　bewildered；　glaring　vainly

over　the　place　and　missing　wholly；　though　it　now；　to　my　sense；

filled　the　room　like　the　taste　of　poison；　the　wide；　overwhelming　presence。

〃It's　HE？〃



I　was　so　determined　to　have　all　my　proof　that　I　flashed　into　ice

to　challenge　him。　　〃Whom　do　you　mean　by　‘he'？〃



〃Peter　Quintyou　devil！〃　　His　face　gave　again；　round　the　room；

its　convulsed　supplication。　　〃WHERE？〃



They　are　in　my　ears　still；　his　supreme　surrender　of　the　name

and　his　tribute　to　my　devotion。　　〃What　does　he　matter　now；

my　own？what　will　he　EVER　matter？　　_I_　have　you；〃

I　launched　at　the　beast；　〃but　he　has　lost　you　forever！〃

Then；　for　the　demonstration　of　my　work；　〃There；　THERE！〃

I　said　to　Miles。



But　he　had　already　jerked　straight　round；　stared；　glared　again；

and　seen　but　the　quiet　day。　　With　the　stroke　of　the　loss　I　was

so　proud　of　he　uttered　the　cry　of　a　creature　hurled　over　an　abyss；

and　the　grasp　with　which　I　recovered　him　might　have　been　that

of　catching　him　in　his　fall。　　I　caught　him；　yes；　I　held　him

it　may　be　imagined　with　what　a　passion；　but　at　the　end

of　a　minute　I　began　to　feel　what　it　truly　was　that　I　held。

We　were　alone　with　the　quiet　day；　and　his　little　heart；

dispossessed；　had　stopped。









End