第88部分(第2/7 頁)

　courage　of　the　train　as　it　steamed　tinily　away　through

the　patterned　levels　to　the　sea's　dimness；　so　fast　and　so

energetic；　made　her　weep。　Where　was　it　going？　It　was　going

nowhere；　it　was　just　going。　So　blind；　so　without　goal　or　aim；

yet　so　hasty！　She　sat　on　an　old　prehistoric　earth…work　and

cried；　and　the　tears　ran　down　her　face。　The　train　had　tunnelled

all　the　earth；　blindly；　and　uglily。

And　she　lay　face　downwards　on　the　downs；　that　were　so　strong；

that　cared　only　for　their　intercourse　with　the　everlasting

skies；　and　she　wished　she　could　bee　a　strong　mound　smooth

under　the　sky；　bosom　and　limbs　bared　to　all　winds　and　clouds　and

bursts　of　sunshine。

But　she　must　get　up　again　and　look　down　from　her　foothold　of

sunshine；　down　and　away　at　the　patterned；　level　earth；　with　its

villages　and　its　smoke　and　its　energy。　So　shortsighted　the　train

seemed；　running　to　the　distance；　so　terrifying　in　their

littleness　the　villages；　with　such　pettiness　in　their

activity。

Skrebensky　wandered　dazed；　not　knowing　where　he　was　or　what

he　was　doing　with　her。　All　her　passion　seemed　to　be　to　wander　up

there　on　the　downs；　and　when　she　must　descend　to　earth；　she　was

heavy。　Up　there　she　was　exhilarated　and　free。

She　would　not　love　him　in　a　house　any　more。　She　said　she

hated　houses；　and　particularly　she　hated　beds。　There　was

something　distasteful　in　his　ing　to　her　bed。

She　would　stay　the　night　on　the　downs；　up　there；　he　with　her。

It　was　midsummer；　the　days　were　glamorously　long。　At　about

half…past　ten；　when　the　bluey…black　darkness　had　at　last　fallen；

they　took　rugs　and　climbed　the　steep　track　to　the　summit