小说园

第30部分（第2页）

She　shifted　sharply；　she　knocked　him　as　she　pretended　to　pick

up　her　glove；　she　groped　among　his　feet。

He　came　to；　rather　bewildered；　exposed。　Anybody　but　her　would

have　pitied　him。　She　wanted　to　rend　him。　He　did　not　know　what

was　amiss；　what　he　had　been　doing。

As　they　sat　at　dinner；　in　their　cottage；　he　was　dazed　by　the

chill　of　antagonism　from　her。　She　did　not　know　why　she　was　so

angry。　But　she　was　incensed。

〃Why　do　you　never　listen　to　the　sermon？〃　she　asked；　seething

with　hostility　and　violation。

〃I　do；〃　he　said。

〃You　dont……you　dont　hear　a　single　word。〃

He　retired　into　himself；　to　enjoy　his　own　sensation。　There

was　something　subterranean　about　him；　as　if　he　had　an　underworld

refuge。　The　young　girl　hated　to　be　in　the　house　with　him　when　he

was　like　this。

After　dinner；　he　retired　into　the　parlour；　continuing　in　the

same　state　of　abstraction；　which　was　a　burden　intolerable　to

her。　Then　he　went　to　the　book…shelf　and　took　down　books　to　look

at；　that　she　had　scarcely　glanced　over。

He　sat　absorbed　over　a　book　on　the　illuminations　in　old

missals；　and　then　over　a　book　on　paintings　in　churches：　Italian；

English；　French　and　German。　He　had；　when　he　was　sixteen；

discovered　a　Roman　Catholic　bookshop　where　he　could　find　such

things。

He　turned　the　leaves　in　absorption；　absorbed　in　looking；　not

thinking。　He　was　like　a　man　whose　eyes　were　in　his　chest；　she

said　of　him　later。

She　came　to　look　at　the　things　with　him。　Half　they　fascinated

her。　She　was　puzzled；　interested；　and　antagonistic。

It　was　when　she　came　to　pictures　of　the　Pieta　that　she　burst

out。

〃I　do　think　theyre　loathsome；〃　she　cried。

〃What？〃　he　said；　surprised；　abstracted。

〃Those　bodies　with　slits　in　them；　posing　to　be

worshipped。〃