malvina of brittany-第26章

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He　had　come　to　New　York　thinking　of　Sylvia；　yearning　for　Sylvia。　　He
had　come　to　New　York　with　one　desire：　　to　find　Sylvia。　　And　the
first　pretty　woman　that　had　come　across　his　path　had　sent　Sylvia
clean　out　of　his　head。　　There　could　be　no　question　of　that。　　When
Ann　Kavanagh　stretched　out　her　hand　to　him　in　that　very　room　a
fortnight　ago　he　had　stood　before　her　dazzled；　captured。　　From　that
moment　Sylvia　had　been　tossed　aside　and　forgotten。　　Ann　Kavanagh
could　have　done　what　she　liked　with　him。　　She　had　quarrelled　with
him　that　evening　of　the　concert。　　She　had　meant　to　quarrel　with　him。

And　then　for　the　first　time　he　had　remembered　Sylvia。　　That　was　her
rewardSylvia's：　　it　was　Sylvia　she　was　thinking　offor　six　years'
devoted　friendship；　for　the　help；　the　inspiration　she　had　given　him。

As　Sylvia；　she　suffered　from　a　very　genuine　and　explainable　wave　of
indignant　jealousy。　　As　Ann；　she　admitted　he　ought　not　to　have　done
it；　but　felt　there　was　excuse　for　him。　　Between　the　two　she　feared
her　mind　would　eventually　give　way。　　On　the　morning　of　the　second
day　she　sent　Matthew　a　note　asking　him　to　call　in　the　afternoon。
Sylvia　might　be　there；　or　she　might　not。　　She　would　mention　it　to
her。

She　dressed　herself　in　a　quiet；　dark…coloured　frock。　　It　seemed
uncommittal　and　suitable　to　the　occasion。　　It　also　happened　to　be
the　colour　that　best　suited　her。　　She　would　not　have　the　lamps
lighted。

Matthew　arrived　in　a　dark　serge　suit　and　a　blue　necktie；　so　that　the
general　effect　was　quiet。　　Ann　greeted　him　with　kindliness　and　put
him　with　his　face　to　what　little　light　there　was。　　She　chose　for
herself　the　window…seat。　　Sylvia　had　not　arrived。　　She　might　be　a
little　latethat　is；　if　she　came　at　all。

They　talked　about　the　weather　for　a　while。　　Matthew　was　of　opinion
they　were　going　to　have　some　rain。　　Ann；　who　was　in　one　of　her
contradictory　moods；　thought　there　was　frost　in　the　air。

〃What　did　you　say　to　her？〃　he　asked。

〃Sylvia？　　Oh；　what　you　told　me；〃　replied　Ann。　　〃That　you　had　come　to
New　York　toto　look　for　her。〃

〃What　did　she　say？〃　he　asked。

〃Said　you'd　taken　your　time　about　it；〃　retorted　Ann。

Matthew　looked　up　with　an　injured　expression。

〃It　was　her　own　idea　that　we　should　never　meet；〃　he　explained。

〃Um！〃　Ann　grunted。

〃What　do　you　think　yourself　she　will　be　like？〃　she　continued。　　〃Have
you　formed　any　notion？〃

〃It　is　curious；〃　he　replied。　　〃I　have　never　been　able　to　conjure　up
any　picture　of　her　until　just　now。〃

〃Why　'just　now'？〃　demanded　Ann。

〃I　had　an　idea　I　should　find　her　here　when　I　opened　the　door；〃　he
answered。　　〃You　were　standing　in　the　shadow。　　It　seemed　to　be　just
what　I　had　expected。〃

〃You　would　have　been　satisfied？〃　she　asked。

〃Yes；〃　he　said。

There　was　silence　for　a　moment。

〃Uncle　Ab　made　a　mistake；〃　he　continued。　　〃He　ought　to　have　sent　me
away。　　Let　me　come　home　now　and　then。〃

〃You　mean；〃　said　Ann；　〃that　if　you　had　seen　less　of　me　you　might
have　liked　me　better？〃

〃Quite　right；〃　he　admitted。　　〃We　never　see　the　things　that　are
always　there。〃

〃A　thin；　gawky　girl　with　a　bad　complexion；〃　she　suggested。　　〃Would
it　have　been　of　any　use？〃

〃You　must　always　have　been　wonderful　with　those　eyes；〃　he　answered。
〃And　your　hands　were　beautiful　even　then。〃

〃I　used　to　cry　sometimes　when　I　looked　at　myself　in　the　glass　as　a
child；〃　she　confessed。　　〃My　hands　were　the　only　thing　that　consoled
me。〃

〃I　kissed　them　once；〃　he　told　her。　　〃You　were　asleep；　curled　up　in
Uncle　Ab's　chair。〃

〃I　wasn't　asleep；〃　said　Ann。

She　was　seated　with　one　foot　tucked　underneath　her。　　She　didn't　look
a　bit　grown　up。

〃You　always　thought　me　a　fool；〃　he　said。

〃It　used　to　make　me　so　angry　with　you；〃　said　Ann；　〃that　you　seemed
to　have　no　go；　no　ambition　in　you。　　I　wanted　you　to　wake　updo
something。　　If　I　had　known　you　were　a　budding　genius〃

〃I　did　hint　it　to　you；〃　said　he。

〃Oh；　of　course　it　was　all　my　fault；〃　said　Ann。

He　rose。　　〃You　think　she　means　to　come？〃　he　asked。　　Ann　also　had
risen。

〃Is　she　so　very　wonderful？〃　she　asked。

〃I　may　be　exaggerating　to　myself；〃　he　answered。　　〃But　I　am　not　sure
that　I　could　go　on　with　my　work　without　hernot　now。〃

〃You　forgot　her；〃　flashed　Ann；　〃till　we　happened　to　quarrel　in　the
cab。〃

〃I　often　do；〃　he　confessed。　　〃Till　something　goes　wrong。　　Then　she
comes　to　me。　　As　she　did　on　that　first　evening；　six　years　ago。　　You
see；　I　have　been　more　or　less　living　with　her　since　then；〃　he　added
with　a　smile。

〃In　dreamland；〃　Ann　corrected。

〃Yes；　but　in　my　case；〃　he　answered；　〃the　best　part　of　my　life　is
passed　in　dreamland。〃

〃And　when　you　are　not　in　dreamland？〃　she　demanded。　　〃When　you're
just　irritable；　short…tempered；　cranky　Matthew　Pole。　　What's　she
going　to　do　about　you　then？〃

〃She'll　put　up　with　me；〃　said　Matthew。

〃No　she　won't；〃　said　Ann。　　〃She'll　snap　your　head　off。　　Most　of　the
'putting　up　with'　you'll　have　to　do。〃

He　tried　to　get　between　her　and　the　window；　but　she　kept　her　face
close　to　the　pane。

〃You　make　me　tired　with　Sylvia；〃　she　said。　　〃It's　about　time　you　did
know　what　she's　like。　　She's　just　the　commonplace；　short…tempered；
disagreeable…if…she…doesn't…get…her…own…way；　unreasonable　woman。
Only　more　so。〃

He　drew　her　away　from　the　window　by　brute　force。

〃So　you're　Sylvia；〃　he　said。

〃I　thought　that　would　get　it　into　your　head；〃　said　Ann。

It　was　not　at　all　the　way　she　had　meant　to　break　it　to　him。　　She　had
meant　the　conversation　to　be　chiefly　about　Sylvia。　　She　had　a　high
opinion　of　Sylvia；　a　much　higher　opinion　than　she　had　of　Ann
Kavanagh。　　If　he　proved　to　be　worthy　of　herof　Sylvia；　that　is；
then；　with　the　whimsical　smile　that　she　felt　belonged　to　Sylvia；　she
would　remark　quite　simply；　〃Well；　what　have　you　got　to　say　to　her？〃

What　had　happened　to　interfere　with　the　programme　was　Ann　Kavanagh。
It　seemed　that　Ann　Kavanagh　had　disliked　Matthew　Pole　less　than　she
had　thought　she　did。　　It　was　after　he　had　sailed　away　that　little
Ann　Kavanagh　had　discovered　this。　　If　only　he　had　shown　a　little
more　interest　in；　a　little　more　appreciation　of；　Ann　Kavanagh！　　He
could　be　kind　and　thoughtful　in　a　patronising　sort　of　way。　　Even
that　would　not　have　mattered　if　there　had　been　any　justification　for
his　airs　of　superiority。

Ann　Kavanagh；　who　ought　to　have　taken　a　back　seat　on　this　occasion；
had　persisted　in　coming　to　the　front。　　It　was　so　like　her。

〃Well；〃　she　said；　〃what　are　you　going　to　say　to　her？〃　　She　did　get
it　in；　after　all。

〃I　was　going；〃　said　Matthew；　〃to　talk　to　her　about　Art　and
Literature；　touching；　maybe；　upon　a　few　other　subjects。　　Also；　I
might　have　suggested　our　seeing　each　other　again　once　or　twice；　just
to　get　better　acquainted。　　And　then　I　was　going　away。〃

〃Why　going　away？〃　asked　Ann。

〃To　see　if　I　could　forget　you。〃

She　turned　to　him。　　The　fading　light　was　full　upon　her　face。

〃I　don't　believe　you　couldagain；〃　she　said。

〃No；〃　he　agreed。　　〃I'm　afraid　I　couldn't。〃

〃You're　sure　there's　nobody　else；〃　said　Ann；　〃that　you're　in　love
with。　　Only　us　two？〃

〃Only　you　two；〃　he　said。

She　was　standing　with　her　hand　on　old　Abner's　empty　chair。　　〃You've
got　to　choose；〃　she　said。　　She　was　trembling。　　Her　voice　sounded
just　a　little　hard。

He　came　and　stood　beside　her。　　〃I　want　Ann；〃　he　said。

She　held　out　her　hand　to　him。

〃I'm　so　glad　you　said　Ann；〃　she　laughed。




THE　FAWN　GLOVES。




Always　he　remembered　her　as　he　saw　her　first：　　the　little　spiritual
face；　the　little　brown　shoes　pointed　downwards；　their　toes　just
touching　the　ground；　the　little　fawn　gloves　folded　upon　her　lap。　　He
was　not　conscious　of　having　noticed　her　with　any　particular
attention：　　a　plainly　dressed；　childish…looking　figure　alone　on　a
seat　between　him　and　the　setting　sun。　　Even　had　he　felt　curious　his
shyness　would　have　prevented　his　deliberately　running　the　risk　of
meeting　her　eyes。　　Yet　immediately　he　had　passed　her　he　saw　her
again；　quite　clearly：　　the　pale　oval　face；　the　brown　shoes；　and；
between　them；　the　little　fawn　gloves　folded　one　over　the　other。　　All
down　the　Broad　Walk　and　across　Primrose　Hill；　he　saw　her　silhouetted
against　the　sinking　sun。　　At　least　that　much　of　her：　　the　wistful
face　and　the　trim　brown　shoes　and　the　little　folded　hands；　until　the
sun　went　down　behind　the　high　chimneys　of　the　brewery　beyond　Swiss
Cottage；　and　then　she　faded。

She　was　there　again　the　next　evening；　precisely　in　the　same　place。
Usually　he　walked　home　by　the　Hampstead　Road。　　Only　occasionally；
when　the　beauty　of　the　evening　tempted　him；　would　he　take　the　longer
way　by　Regent　Street　and　through　the　Park。　　But　so　often　it　made　him
feel　sad；　the　quiet　Park；　forcing　upon　him　the　sense　of　his　own
loneliness。

He　would　walk　down　merely　as　far　as　the　Great　Vase；　so　he　arranged
with　himself。　　If　she　were　not　thereit　was　not　likely　that　she
would　behe　would　turn　back　into　Albany　Street。　　The　newsvendors'
shops　with　their　display　of　the　cheaper　illustrated　papers；　the
second…hand　furniture　dealers　with　their　faded　engravings　and　old
prints；　would　give　him　something　to　look　at；　to　take　away　his
thoughts　from　himself。　　But　seeing　her　in　the　distance；　almost　the
moment　he　had　entered　the　gate；　it　came　to　him　how　disappointed　he
would　have　been　had　the　seat　in　front　of　the　red　tulip　bed　been
vacant。　　A　little　away　from　her　he　paused；　turning　to　look　at　the
flowers。　　He　thought　that；　waiting　his　opportunity；　he　might　be　able
to　steal　a　glance　at　her　undetected。　　Once　for　a　moment　he　did　so；
but　venturing　a　second　time　their　eyes　met；　or　he　fancied　they　did；
and　blushing　furiously　he　hurried　past。　　But　again　she　came　with
him；　or；　rather；　preceded　him。　　On　each　empty　seat　between　him　and
the　sinking　sun　he　saw　her　quite　plainly：　　the　pale　oval　face　and
the　brown　shoes；　and；　between　them；　the　fawn　gloves　folded　one　upon
the　other。

Only　this　evening；　about　the　small；　sensitive　mouth　there　seemed　to
be　hovering　just　the　faintest　suggestion　of　a　timid　smile。　　And　this
time　she　lingered　with　him　past　Queen's　Crescent　and　the　Malden
Road；　till　he　turned　into　Carlton　Street。　　It　was　dark　in　the
passage；　and　he　had　to　grope　his　way　up　the　stairs；　but　with　his
hand　on　the　door　of　the　bed…sitting　room　on　the　third　floor　he　felt
less　afraid　of　the　solitude　that　would　rise　to　meet　him。

All　day　long　in　the　dingy　back　office　in　Abingdon　Street；
Westminster；　where　from　ten　to　six　each　day　he　sat　copying　briefs
and　petitions；　he　thought　over　what　he　would　say　to　her；　tactful
beginnings　by　means　of　which　he　would　slide　into　conversation　with
her。　　Up　Portland　Place　he　would　rehearse　them　to　himself。　　But　at
Cambridge　Gate；　when　the　little　fawn　gloves　came　in　view；　the　words
would　run　away；　to　join　him　again　maybe　at　the　gate　into　the　Chester
Road；　leaving　him　meanwhile　to　pass　her　with　stiff；　hurried　steps
and　eyes　fixed　straight　in　front　of　him。　　And　so　it　might　have
continued；　but　that　one　evening　she　was　no　longer　at　her　usual　seat。
A　crowd　of　noisy　children　swarmed　over　it；　and　suddenly　it　seemed　to
him　as　if　the　trees　and　flowers　had　all　turned　drab。　　A　terror
gnawed　at　his　heart；　and　he　hurried　on；　more　for　the　need　of
movement　than　with　any　definite　object。　　And　just　beyond　a　bed　of
geraniums　that　had　h