小说园

第92部分（第2页）

more　than　to　rest　in　your　shelter　all　my　life

This　letter　she　wrote；　sentence　by　sentence；　as　if　from　her

deepest；　sincerest　heart。　She　felt　that　now；　now；　she　was　at　the

depths　of　herself。　This　was　her　true　self；　forever。　With　this

document　she　would　appear　before　God　at　the　Judgment　Day。

For　what　had　a　woman　but　to　submit？　What　was　her　flesh　but

for　childbearing；　her　strength　for　her　children　and　her　husband；

the　giver　of　life？　At　last　she　was　a　woman。

She　posted　her　letter　to　his　club；　to　be　forwarded　to　him　in

Calcutta。　He　would　receive　it　soon　after　his　arrival　in

India……within　three　weeks　of　his　arrival　there。　In　a

months　time　she　would　receive　word　from　him。　Then　she　would

go。

She　。　She　thought　only　of　preparing　her

garments　and　of　living　quietly；　peacefully；　till　the　time　when

she　should　join　him　again　and　her　history　would　be　concluded　for

ever。　The　peace　held　like　an　unnatural　calm　for　a　long　time。　She

was　aware；　however；　of　a　gathering　restiveness；　a　tumult

impending　within　her。　She　tried　to　run　away　from　it。　She　wished

she　could　hear　from　Skrebensky；　in　answer　to　her　letter；　so　that

her　course　should　be　resolved；　she　should　be　engaged　in

fulfilling　her　fate。　It　was　this　inactivity　which　made　her

liable　to　the　revulsion　she　dreaded。

It　was　curious　how　little　she　cared　about　his　not　having

written　to　her　before。　It　was　enough　that　she　had　sent　her

letter。　She　would　get　the　required　answer；　that　was　all。

One　afternoon　in　early　October；　feeling　the　seething　rising

to　madness　within　her；　she　slipped　out　in　the　rain；　to　walk

abroad；　lest　the　house　should　suffocate　her。　Everywhere　was

drenched　wet　and　deserted；　the　grimed　houses　glowed　dull　red；

the　butt　houses　burned　scarlet　in　a　gleam　of　light；　under　the

glistening；　blackish　purple　slates。　Ursula　went　on　towards

Willey　Green。　She　lifted　her　face　and　walked　swiftly；　seeing　the

passage　of　light　across　the　shallow　valley；　seeing　the　colliery

and　its　clouds　of　steam　for　a　moment　visionary　in　dim

brilliance；　away　in　the　chaos　of　rain。　Then　the　veils　closed

again。　She　was　glad　of　the　rains　privacy　and　intimacy。

Making　on　towards　the　wood；　she　saw　the　pale　gleam　of　Willey

Water　through　the　cloud　below；　she　walked　the　open　space　where

hawthorn　trees　streamed　like　hair　on　the　wind　and　round　bushes