the conflict-第17章

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‘‘Why　not　drop　in　here　when　you're　down　town？''　suggested　Victor。

She　wondered　why　she　did　not　hang　up　the　receiver　and　forget　him。

But　she　did　not。　　She　murmured；　‘‘In　due　time　I'll　punish　you　for　this；　sir；''　and　said　to　him：　　‘‘There　are　reasons　why　it's　impossible　for　me　to　go　there　just　now。　　And　you　know　I　can't　meet　you　in　a　saloon　or　on　a　street　corner。''

‘‘I'm　not　so　sure　of　that；''　laughed　he。　　‘‘Let　me　see。　　I'm　very　busy。　　But　I　could　come　for　half　an　hour　this　afternoon。''

She　had　planned　an　evening　session；　being　well　aware　of　the　favorable　qualities　of　air　and　light　after　the　matter…of…fact　sun　has　withdrawn　his　last　rays。　　But　she　promptly　decided　to　accept　what　offered。　　‘‘At　three？''

‘‘At　four；''　replied　he。

‘‘You　haven't　forgotten　those　books？''

‘‘Books？　　Oh；　yesyes；　I　remember。　　I'll　bring　them。''

‘‘Thank　you　so　much；''　said　she　sweetly。　　‘‘Good…by。''

And　at　four　she　was　waiting　for　him　on　the　front　veranda　in　a　house　dress　that　waswell；　it　was　not　quite　the　proper　costume　for　such　an　occasion；　but　no　one　else　was　to　see；　and　he　didn't　know　about　that　sort　of　thingand　the　gown　gave　her　charms　their　best　possible　exposure　except　evening　dress；　which　was　out　of　the　question。　　She　had　not　long　to　wait。　　One　of　the　clocks　within　hearing　had　struck　and　another　was　just　beginning　to　strike　when　she　saw　him　coming　toward　the　house。　　She　furtively　watched　him；　admiring　his　walk　without　quite　knowing　why。　　You　may　perhaps　know　the　walk　that　was　Victor'sa　steady　forward　advance　of　the　whole　body　held　firmly；　almost　rigidly　the　walk　of　a　man　leading　another　to　the　scaffold；　or　of　a　man　being　led　there　in　conscious　innocence；　or　of　a　man　ready　to　go　wherever　his　purposes　may　orderready　to　go　without　any　heroics　or　fuss　of　any　kind；　but　simply　in　the　course　of　the　day's　business。　　When　a　man　walks　like　that；　he　is　worth　observing　and　it　is　well　to　think　twice　before　obstructing　his　way。

That　steady；　inevitable　advance　gave　Jane　Hastings　an　absurd　feeling　of　nervousness。　　She　had　an　impulse　to　fly；　as　from　some　oncoming　danger。　　Yet　what　was　coming；　in　fact？　　A　clever　young　man　of　the　working　class；　dressed　in　garments　of　the　kind　his　class　dressed　in　on　Sunday；　and　plebeianly　carrying　a　bundle　under　his　arm。

‘‘Our　clock　says　you　are　three　seconds　late；''　cried　she；　laughing　and　extending　her　hand　in　a　friendly；　equal　way　that　would　have　immensely　flattered　almost　any　man　of　her　own　class。　　‘‘But　another　protests　that　you　are　one　second　early。''

‘‘I'm　one　of　those　fools　who　waste　their　time　and　their　nerves　by　being　punctual；''　said　he。

He　laid　the　books　on　the　wicker　sofa。　　But　instead　of　sitting　Jane　said：　　‘‘We　might　be　interrupted　here。　　Come　to　the　west　veranda。''

There　she　had　him　in　a　leafy　solitudehe　facing　her　as　she　posed　in　fascinating　grace　in　a　big　chair。　　He　looked　at　hernot　the　look　of　a　man　at　a　woman；　but　the　look　of　a　busy　person　at　one　who　is　about　to　show　cause　for　having　asked　for　a　portion　of　his　valuable　time。　　She　laughedand　laughter　was　her　best　gesture。　　‘‘I　can　never　talk　to　you　if　you　pose　like　that；''　said　she。　　‘‘Honestly　now；　is　your　time　so　pricelessly　precious？''

He　echoed　her　laugh　and　settled　himself　more　at　his　ease。　　‘‘What　did　you　want　of　me？''　he　asked。

‘‘I　intend　to　try　to　get　better　hours　and　better　wages　for　the　street　car　men；''　said　she。　　‘‘To　do　it；　I　must　know　just　what　is　rightwhat　I　can　hope　to　get。　　General　talk　is　foolish。　　If　I　go　at　father　I　must　have　definite　proposals　to　make；　with　reasons　for　them。　　I　don't　want　him　to　evade。　　I　would　have　gotten　my　information　　elsewhere；　but　I　could　think　of　no　one　but　you　who　might　not　mislead　me。''

She　had　confidently　expected　that　this　carefully　thought　out　scheme　would　do　the　trick。　　He　would　admire　her；　would　be　interested；　would　be　drawn　into　a　position　where　she　could　enlist　him　as　a　constant　adviser。　　He　moved　toward　the　edge　of　his　chair　as　if　about　to　rise。　　He　said；　pleasantly　enough　but　without　a　spark　of　enthusiasm：

‘‘That's　very　nice　of　you；　Miss　Hastings。　　But　I　can't　advise　youbeyond　saying　that　if　I　were　you；　I　shouldn't　meddle。''

Shethat　is；　her　vanitywas　cut　to　the　quick。　　‘‘Oh！''　said　she　with　irony；　‘‘I　fancied　you　wished　the　laboring　men　to　have　a　better　sort　of　life。''

‘‘Yes；''　said　he。　　‘‘But　I'm　not　in　favor　of　running　hysterically　about　with　a　foolish　little　atomizer　in　the　great　stable。　　You　are　talking　charity。　　I　am　working　for　justice。　　It　will　not　really　benefit　the　working　man　for　the　company；　at　the　urging　of　a　sweet　and　lovely　young　Lady　Bountiful；　to　deign　graciously　to　grant　a　little　less　slavery　to　them。　　In　fact；　a　well　fed；　well　cared　for　slave　is　worse　off　than　one　who's　badly　treated　worse　off　because　farther　from　his　freedom。　　The　only　things　that　do　our　class　any　good；　Miss　Hastings；　are　the　things　they　COMPELcompel　by　their　increased　intelligence　and　increased　unity　and　power。　　They　get　what　they　deserve。　　They　won't　deserve　more　until　they　compel　more。　　Gifts　won't　helpnot　even　gifts　from''　　His　intensely　blue　eyes　danced‘‘from　such　charming　white　hands　so　beautifully　manicured。''

She　rose　with　an　angry　toss　of　the　head。　　‘‘I　didn't　ask　you　here　to　annoy　me　with　impertinences　about　my　finger　nails。''

He　rose；　at　his　ease；　good…humored；　ready　to　go。　　‘‘Then　you　should　have　worn　gloves；''　said　he　carelessly；　‘‘for　I've　been　able　to　think　only　of　your　finger　nailsand　to　wonder　WHAT　can　be　done　with　hands　like　that。　　Thank　you　for　a　pleasant　talk。''　　He　bowed　and　smiled。　　‘‘Good…by。　　OhMiss　Gordon　sent　you　her　love。''

‘‘What　IS　the　matter；　Mr。　Dorn？''　cried　the　girl　desperately。　　‘‘I　want　your　friendshipyour　respect。　　CAN'T　I　get　it？　　Am　I　utterly　hopeless　in　your　eyes？''

A　curious　kind　of　color　rose　in　his　cheeks。　　His　eyes　regarded　her　with　a　mysterious　steadiness。　　‘‘You　want　neither　my　respect　nor　my　friendship；''　said　he。　　‘‘You　want　to　amuse　yourself。''　　He　pointed　at　her　hands。　　‘‘Those　nails　betray　you。''　　He　shrugged　his　shoulders；　laughed；　said　as　if　to　a　child：　　‘‘You　are　a　nice　girl；　Jane　Hastings。　　It's　a　pity　you　weren't　brought　up　to　be　of　some　use。　　But　you　weren'tand　it's　too　late。''

Her　eyes　flashed；　her　bosom　heaved。　　‘‘WHY　do　I　take　these　things　from　you？　　WHY　do　I　invite　them？''

‘‘Because　you　inherit　your　father's　magnificent　persistenceand　you've　set　your　heart　on　the　whim　of　making　a　fool　of　meand　you　hate　to　give　up。''

‘‘You　wrong　meindeed　you　do；''　cried　she。　　‘‘I　want　to　learnI　want　to　be　of　use　in　the　world。　　I　want　to　have　some　kind　of　a　real　life。''

‘‘Really？''　mocked　he　good…humoredly。

‘‘Really；''　said　she　with　all　her　power　of　sweet　earnestness。

‘‘Thencut　your　nails　and　go　to　work。　　And　when　you　have　become　a　genuine　laborer；　you'll　begin　to　try　to　improve　not　the　condition　of　others；　but　your　own。　　The　way　to　help　workers　is　to　abolish　the　idlers　who　hang　like　a　millstone　about　their　necks。　　You　can　help　only　by　abolishing　the　one　idler　under　your　control。''

She　stood　nearer　him；　very　near　him。　　She　threw　out　her　lovely　arms　in　a　gesture　of　humility。　　‘‘I　will　do　whatever　you　say；''　she　said。

They　looked　each　into　the　other's　eyes。　　The　color　fled　from　her　face；　the　blood　poured　into　hiswave　upon　wave；　until　he　was　like　a　man　who　has　been　set　on　fire　by　the　furious　heat　of　long　years　of　equatorial　sun。　　He　muttered；　wheeled　about　and　strode　away　in　resolute　and　relentless　flight。　　She　dropped　down　where　he　had　been　sitting　and　hid　her　face　in　her　perfumed　hands。

‘‘I　care　for　him；''　she　moaned；　‘‘and　he　saw　and　he　despises　me！　　How　COULD　Ihow　COULD　I！''

Nevertheless；　within　a　quarter　of　an　hour　she　was　in　her　dressing　room；　standing　at　the　table；　eyes　carefully　avoiding　her　mirrored　eyesas　she　cut　her　finger　nails。



IV


Jane　was　mistaken　in　her　guess　at　the　cause　of　Victor　Dorn's　agitation　and　abrupt　flight。　　If　he　had　any　sense　whatever　of　the　secret　she　had　betrayed　to　him　and　to　herself　at　the　same　instant　it　was　wholly　unconscious。　　He　had　become　panic…stricken　and　had　fled　because　he；　faced　with　her　exuberance　and　tempting　wealth　of　physical　charm；　had　become　suddenly　conscious　of　her　and　of　himself　in　a　way　as　new　to　him　as　if　he　had　been　fresh　from　a　monkery　where　no　woman　had　ever　been　seen。　　Thus　far　the　world　had　been　peopled　for　him　with　human　beings　without　any　reference　to　sex。　　The　phenomena　of　sex　had　not　interested　him　because　his　mind　had　been　entirely　taken　up　with　the　other　aspects　of　life；　and　he　had　not　yet　reached　the　stage　of　development　where　a　thinker　grasps　the　truth　that　all　questions　are　at　bottom　questions　of　the　sex　relation；　and　that；　therefore；　no　question　can　be　settled　right　until　the　sex　relations　are　settled　right。

Jane　Hastings　was　the　first　girl　he　had　met　in　his　whole　life　who　was　in　a　position　to　awaken　that　side　of　his　nature。　　And　when　his　brain　suddenly　filled　with　a　torrent　of　mad　longings　and　of　sensuous　appreciations　of　her　laces　and　silk；　of　her　perfume　and　smoothness　and　roundness；　of　the　ecstasy　that　would　come　from　contact　with　those　warm；　rosy　lipswhen　Victor　Dorn　found　himself　all　in　a　flash　eager　impetuosity　to　seize　this　woman　whom　he　did　not　approve　of；　whom　he　did　not　even　like；　he　felt　bowed　with　shame。　　He　would　not　have　believed　himself　capable　of　such　a　thing。　　He　fled。

He　fled；　but　she　pursued。　　And　when　he　sat　down　in　the　garden　behind　his　mother's　cottage；　to　work　at　a　table　where　bees　and　butterflies　had　been　his　only　disturbers；　there　was　this　SHE　before　himher　soft；　shining　gaze　fascinating　his　gaze；　her　useless　but　lovely　white　hands　extended　tantalizingly　toward　him。

As　he　continued　to　look　at　her；　his　disapproval　and　dislike　melted。　　‘‘I　was　brutally　harsh　to　her；''　he　thought　repentantly。

‘‘She　was　honestly　trying　to　do　the　decent　thing。　　How　was　she　to　know？　　And　wasn't　I　as　much　wrong　as　right　in　advising　her　not　to　help　the　men？''

Beyond　question；　it　was　theoretically　best　for　the　two　opposing　forces；　capital　and　labor；　to　fight　their　battle　to　its　inevitable　end　without　interference；　without　truce；　with　quarter　neither　given　nor　taken　on　either　side。　　But　practicallywasn't　there　something　to　be　said　for　such　humane　proposals　of　that　of　Jane　Hastings？　　They　would　put　off　the　day　of　right　conditions　rightly　and　therefore　permanently　foundedconditions　in　which　master　and　slave　or　serf　or　wage…taker　would　be　no　more；　but；　on　the　other　hand；　slaves　with　shorter　hours　of　toil　and　better　surroundings　could　be　enlightened　　more　easily。　　Perhaps。　　He　was　by　no　means　sure；　he　could　not　but　fear　that　anything　that　tended　to　make　the　slave　comfortable　in　his　degradation　must　of　necessity　weaken　his　aversion　to　degradation。　　Just　as　the　worst　kings　were　the　best　kings　because　they　hastened　the　fall　of　monarchy；　so　the　worst　capitalists；　the　most　rapacious；　the　most　rigid　enforcers　of　the　economic　laws　of　a　capitalistic　society　were　the　best　capitalists；　were　helping　to　hasten　the　day　when　men　would　work　for　what　they　earned　and　would　earn　what　they　worked　forwhen　every　man's　pay　envelope　would　contain　his　wages；　his　full　wages；　and　nothing　but　his　wages。

Still；　where　judgment　was　uncertain；　he　certainly　had　been　unjust　to　that　well　meaning　girl。　　And　was　she　really　so　worthless　as　he　had　on