Brangwen looked unwillingly。 This was the voice of the
serpent in his Eden。 She pointed him to a plump; sly; malicious
little face carved in stone。
〃He knew her; the man who carved her;〃 said Anna。 〃Im sure
she was his wife。〃
〃It isnt a woman at all; its a man;〃 said Brangwen
curtly。
〃Do you think so?……No! That isnt a man。 That is no
mans face。〃
Her voice sounded rather jeering。 He laughed shortly; and
went on。 But she would not go forward with him。 She loitered
about the carvings。 And he could not go forward without her。 He
waited impatient of this counteraction。 She was spoiling his
passionate intercourse with the cathedral。 His brows began to
gather。
〃Oh; this is good!〃 she cried again。 〃Here is the same
woman……look!……only hes made her cross! Isnt it
lovely! Hasnt he made her hideous to a degree?〃 She laughed
with pleasure。 〃Didnt he hate her? He must have been a nice
man! Look at her……isnt it awfully good……just like a
shrewish woman。 He must have enjoyed putting her in like that。
He got his own back on her; didnt he?〃
〃Its a mans face; no womans at all……a
monks……clean shaven;〃 he said。
She laughed with a pouf! of laughter。
〃You hate to think he put his wife in your cathedral; dont
you?〃 she mocked; with a tinkle of profane laughter。 And she
laughed with malicious triumph。
She had got free from the cathedral; she had even destroyed
the passion he had。 She was glad。 He was bitterly angry。 Strive
as he would; he could not keep the cathedral wonderful to him。
He was disillusioned。 That which had been his absolute;
containing all heaven and earth; was bee to him as to her; a
shapely heap of dead matter……but dead; dead。