小说园

第72部分（第6页）

passionate　love　of　the　beautiful　things　about　her。　Sitting　on

top　of　the　tram…car；　at　evening；　sometimes　school　was　swept　away

as　she　saw　a　magnificent　sky　settling　down。　And　her　breast；　her

very　hands；　clamoured　for　the　lovely　flare　of　sunset。　It　was

poignant　almost　to　agony；　her　reaching　for　it。　She　almost　cried

aloud　seeing　the　sundown　so　lovely。

For　she　was　held　away。　It　was　no　matter　how　she　said　to

herself　that　school　existed　no　more　once　she　had　left　it。　It

existed。　It　was　within　her　like　a　dark　weight；　controlling　her

movement。　It　was　in　vain　the　high…spirited；　proud　young　girl

flung　off　the　school　and　its　association　with　her。　She　was　Miss

Brangwen；　she　was　Standard　Five　teacher；　she　had　her　most

important　being　in　her　work　now。

Constantly　haunting　her；　like　a　darkness　hovering　over　her

heart　and　threatening　to　swoop　down　over　it　at　every　moment；　was

the　sense　that　somehow；　somehow　she　was　brought　down。　Bitterly

she　denied　unto　herself　that　she　was　really　a　schoolteacher。

Leave　that　to　the　Violet　Harbys。　She　herself　would　stand　clear

of　the　accusation。　It　was　in　vain　she　denied　it。

Within　herself　some　recording　hand　seemed　to　point

mechanically　to　a　negation。　She　was　incapable　of　fulfilling　her

task。　She　could　never　for　a　moment　escape　from　the　fatal　weight

of　the　knowledge。

And　so　she　felt　inferior　to　Violet　Harby。　Miss　Harby　was　a

splendid　teacher。　She　could　keep　order　and　inflict　knowledge　on

a　class　with　remarkable　efficiency。　It　was　no　good　Ursulas

protesting　to　herself　that　she　was　infinitely；　infinitely　the

superior　of　Violet　Harby。　She　knew　that　Violet　Harby　succeeded

where　she　failed；　and　this　in　a　task　which　was　almost　a　test　of

her。　She　felt　something　all　the　time　wearing　upon　her；　wearing

her　down。　She　went　about　in　these　first　weeks　trying　to　deny　it；

to　say　she　was