小说园

第21部分（第2页）

just　as　quickly　closing　his　mouth　again。

〃Has　he　got　such　a　remarkable　voice　on　him　then？〃　asked

Brangwen。

〃No；　its　not　that；〃　said　Anna。　〃Only　it　tickled　me……I

couldnt　tell　you　why。〃

And　again　a　ripple　of　laughter　went　down　the　table。

Will　Brangwen　thrust　forward　his　dark　face；　his　eyes　dancing；

and　said：

〃Im　in　the　choir　of　St。　Nicholas。〃

〃Oh；　you　go　to　church　then！〃　said　Brangwen。

〃Mother　does……father　doesnt；〃　replied　the　youth。

It　was　the　little　things；　his　movement；　the　funny　tones　of

his　voice；　that　showed　up　big　to　Anna。　The　matter…of…fact　things

he　said　were　absurd　in　contrast。　The　things　her　father　said

seemed　meaningless　and　neutral。

During　the　afternoon　they　sat　in　the　parlour；　that　smelled　of

geranium；　and　they　ate　cherries；　and　talked。　Will　Brangwen　was

called　on　to　give　himself　forth。　And　soon　he　was　drawn　out。

He　was　interested　in　churches；　in　church　architecture。　The

influence　of　Ruskin　had　stimulated　him　to　a　pleasure　in　the

medieval　forms。　His　talk　was　fragmentary；　he　was　only　half

articulate。　But　listening　to　him；　as　he　spoke　of　church　after

church；　of　nave　and　chancel　and　transept；　of　rood…screen　and

font；　of　hatchet…carving　and　moulding　and　tracery；　speaking

always　with　close　passion　of　particular　things；　particular

places；　there　gathered　in　her　heart　a　pregnant　hush　of　churches；

a　mystery；　a　ponderous　significance　of　bowed　stone；　a

dim…coloured　light　through　which　something　took　place　obscurely；

passing　into　darkness：　a　high；　delighted　framework　of　the　mystic

screen；　and　beyond；　in　the　furthest　beyond；　the　altar。　It　was　a

very　real　experience。　She　was　carried　away。　And　the　land　seemed

to　be　covered　with　a　vast；　mystic　church；　reserved　in　gloom；

thrilled　with　an　unknown　Presence。

Almost　it　hurt　her；　to　look　out　of　the　window　and　see　the

lilacs　towering　in　the　vivid　sunshine。　Or　was　this　the　jewelled