小说园

第15部分（第4页）

She　was　still；　to　Brangwen；　immeasurably　beautiful。　She　was

still　passionate；　with　a　flame　of　being。　But　the　flame　was　not

robust　and　present。　Her　eyes　shone；　her　face　glowed　for　him；　but

like　some　flower　opened　in　the　shade；　that　could　not　bear　the

full　light。　She　loved　the　baby。　But　even　this；　with　a　sort　of

dimness；　a　faint　absence　about　her；　a　shadowiness　even　in　her

mother…love。　When　Brangwen　saw　her　nursing　his　child；　happy；

absorbed　in　it；　a　pain　went　over　him　like　a　thin　flame。　For　he

perceived　how　he　must　subdue　himself　in　his　approach　to　her。　And

he　wanted　again　the　robust；　moral　exchange　of　love　and　passion

such　as　he　had　had　at　first　with　her；　at　one　time　and　another；

when　they　were　matched　at　their　highest　intensity。　This　was　the

one　experience　for　him　now。　And　he　wanted　it；　always；　with

remorseless　craving。

She　came　to　him　again；　with　the　same　lifting　of　her　mouth　as

had　driven　him　almost　mad　with　trammelled　passion　at　first。　She

came　to　him　again；　and；　his　heart　delirious　in　delight　and

readiness；　he　took　her。　And　it　was　almost　as　before。

Perhaps　it　was　quite　as　before。　At　any　rate；　it　made　him　know

perfection；　it　established　in　him　a　constant　eternal

knowledge。

But　it　died　down　before　he　wanted　it　to　die　down。　She　was

finished；　she　could　take　no　more。　And　he　was　not　exhausted；　he

wanted　to　go　on。　But　it　could　not　be。

So　he　had　to　begin　the　bitter　lesson；　to　abate　himself；　to

take　less　than　he　wanted。　For　she　was　Woman　to　him；　all　other

women　were　her　shadows。　For　she　had　satisfied　him。　And　he　wanted

it　to　go　on。　And　it　could　not。　However　he　raged；　and；　filled

with　suppression　that　became　hot　and　bitter；　hated　her　in　his

soul　that　she　did　not　want　him；　however　he　had　mad　outbursts；

and　drank　and　made　ugly　scenes；　still　he　knew；　he　was　only

kicking　against　the　pricks。　It　was　not；　he　had　to　learn；　that

she　would　not　want　him　enough；　as　much　as　he　demanded　that　she

should　want　him。　It　was　that　she　could　not。　She　could　only　want

him　in　her　own　way；　and　to　her　own　measure。　And　she　had　spent