第93部分(第2/7 頁)

　till；

trembling；　she　climbed　the　fence　under　a　leaning　thorn　tree　that

overhung　the　grass　by　the　high…road。　The　use　went　from　her；　she

sat　on　the　fence　leaning　back　against　the　trunk　of　the　thorn

tree；　motionless。

As　she　sat　there；　spent；　time　and　the　flux　of　change　passed

away　from　her；　she　lay　as　if　unconscious　upon　the　bed　of　the

stream；　like　a　stone；　unconscious；　unchanging；　unchangeable；

whilst　everything　rolled　by　in　transience；　leaving　her　there；　a

stone　at　rest　on　the　bed　of　the　stream；　inalterable　and　passive；

sunk　to　the　bottom　of　all　change。

She　lay　still　a　long　time；　with　her　back　against　the　thorn

tree　trunk；　in　her　final　isolation。　Some　colliers　passed；

tramping　heavily　up　the　wet　road；　their　voices　sounding　out；

their　shoulders　up　to　their　ears；　their　figures　blotched　and

spectral　in　the　rain。　Some　did　not　see　her。　She　opened　her　eyes

languidly　as　they　passed　by。　Then　one　man　going　alone　saw　her。

The　whites　of　his　eyes　showed　in　his　black　face　as　he　looked　in

wonderment　at　her。　He　hesitated　in　his　walk；　as　if　to　speak　to

her；　out　of　frightened　concern　for　her。　How　she　dreaded　his

speaking　to　her；　dreaded　his　questioning　her。

She　slipped　from　her　seat　and　went　vaguely　along　the

path……vaguely。　It　was　a　long　way　home。　She　had　an　idea　that

she　must　walk　for　the　rest　of　her　life；　wearily；　wearily。　Step

after　step；　step　after　step；　and　always　along　the　wet；　rainy

road　between　the　hedges。　Step　after　step；　step　after　step；　the

monotony　produced　a　deep；　cold　sense　of　nausea　in　her。　How

profound　was　her　cold　nausea；　how　profound！　That　too　plumbed　the

bottom。　She　seemed　de