第57部分(第7/7 頁)

ers　of　drops　fell　when　one　brushed　a　bough；　cold

and　lovely　on　the　face！

But　she　was　here　with　him　in　the　car；　close　to　him；　and　the

wind　was　rushing　on　her　lifted；　eager　face；　blowing　back　the

hair。　He　turned　and　looked　at　her；　at　her　face　clean　as　a

chiselled　thing；　her　hair　chiselled　back　by　the　wind；　her　fine

nose　keen　and　lifted。

It　was　agony　to　him；　seeing　her　swift　and　clean…cut　and

virgin。　He　wanted　to　kill　himself；　and　throw　his　detested

carcase　at　her　feet。　His　desire　to　turn　round　on　himself　and

rend　himself　was　an　agony　to　him。

Suddenly　she　glanced　at　him。　He　seemed　to　be　crouching

towards　her；　reaching；　he　seemed　to　wince　between　the　brows。　But

instantly；　seeing　her　lighted　eyes　and　radiant　face；　his

expression　changed；　his　old　reckless　laugh　shone　to　her。　She

pressed　his　hand　in　utter　delight；　and　he　abided。　And　suddenly

she　stooped　and　kissed　his　hand；　bent　her　head　and　caught　it　to

her　mouth；　in　generous　homage。　And　the　blood　burned　in　him。　Yet

he　remained　still；　he　made　no　move。

She　started。　They　were　swinging　into　Cossethay。　Skrebensky

was　going　to　leave　her。　But　it　was　all　so　magic；　her　cup　was　so

full　of　bright　wine；　her　eyes　could　only　shine。

He　tapped　and　spoke　to　the　man。　The　car　swung　up　by　the　yew

trees。　She　gave　him　her　hand　and　said　good…bye；　naive　and　brief

as　a　schoolgirl。　And　she　stood　watching　him　go；　her　face

shining。　The　fact　of　his　driving　on　meant　nothing　to　her；　she

was　so　filled　by　her　own　bright　ecstacy。　She　did　not　see　him　go；

for　she　was　f