小说园

第41部分（第2页）

And　he　closed　the　door　behind　her。　Then　the　child　was　happy

in　the　shed　that　smelled　of　sweet　wood　and　resounded　to　the

noise　of　the　plane　or　the　hammer　or　the　saw；　yet　was　charged

with　the　silence　of　the　worker。　She　played　on；　intent　and

absorbed；　among　the　shavings　and　the　little　nogs　of　wood。　She

never　touched　him：　his　feet　and　legs　were　near；　she　did　not

approach　them。

She　liked　to　flit　out　after　him　when　he　was　going　to　church

at　night。　If　he　were　going　to　be　alone；　he　swung　her　over　the

wall；　and　let　her　e。

Again　she　was　transported　when　the　door　was　shut　behind　them；

and　they　two　inherited　the　big；　pale；　void　place。　She　would

watch　him　as　he　lit　the　organ　candles；　wait　whilst　he　began　his

practicing　his　tunes；　then　she　ran　foraging　here　and　there；　like

a　kitten　playing　by　herself　in　the　darkness　with　eyes　dilated。

The　ropes　hung　vaguely；　twining　on　the　floor；　from　the　bells　in

the　tower；　and　Ursula　always　wanted　the　fluffy；　red…and…white；

or　blue…and…white　rope…grips。　But　they　were　above　her。

Sometimes　her　mother　came　to　claim　her。　Then　the　child　was

seized　with　resentment。　She　passionately　resented　her　mothers

superficial　authority。　She　wanted　to　assert　her　own

detachment。

He；　however；　also　gave　her　occasional　cruel　shocks。　He　let

her　play　about　in　the　church；　she　rifled　foot…stools　and

hymn…books　and　cushions；　like　a　bee　among　flowers；　whilst　the

organ　echoed　away。　This　continued　for　some　weeks。　Then　the

charwoman　worked　herself　up　into　a　frenzy　of　rage；　to　dare　to

attack　Brangwen；　and　one　day　descended　on　him　like　a　harpy。　He

wilted　away；　and　wanted　to　break　the　old　beasts　neck。

Instead　he　came　glowering　in　fury　to　the　house；　and　turned　on

Ursula。

〃Why；　you　tiresome　little　monkey；　cant　you　even　e　to

church　without　pulling　the　place　to　bits？〃

His　voice　was　harsh　and　cat…like；　he　was　blind　to　the　child。