第62部分(第6/7 頁)

wilderness。

The　next　day　she　went　to　the　station　to　see　him　go。　She

looked　at　him；　she　turned　to　him；　but　he　was　always　so　strange

and　null……so　null。　He　was　so　collected。　She　thought　it　was

that　which　made　him　null。　Strangely　nothing　he　was。

Ursula　stood　near　him　with　a　mute；　pale　face　which　he　would

rather　not　see。　There　seemed　some　shame　at　the　very　root　of

life；　cold；　dead　shame　for　her。

The　three　made　a　noticeable　group　on　the　station；　the　girl　in

her　fur　cap　and　tippet　and　her　olive　green　costume；　pale；　tense

with　youth；　isolated；　unyielding；　the　soldierly　young　man　in　a

crush　hat　and　a　heavy　overcoat；　his　face　rather　pale　and

reserved　above　his　purple　scarf；　his　whole　figure　neutral；　then

the　elder　man；　a　fashionable　bowler　hat　pressed　low　over　his

dark　brows；　his　face　warm…coloured　and　calm；　his　whole　figure

curiously　suggestive　of　full…blooded　indifference；　he　was　the

eternal　audience；　the　chorus；　the　spectator　at　the　drama；　in　his

own　life　he　would　have　no　drama。

The　train　was　rushing　up。　Ursula's　heart　heaved；　but　the　ice

was　frozen　too　strong　upon　it。

〃Good…bye；〃　she　said；　lifting　her　hand；　her　face　laughing

with　her　peculiar；　blind；　almost　dazzling　laugh。　She　wondered

what　he　was　doing；　when　he　stooped　and　kissed　her。　He　should　be

shaking　hands　and　going。

〃Good…bye；〃　she　said　again。

He　picked　up　his　little　bag　and　turned　his　back　on　her。　There

was　a　hurry　along　the　train。　Ah；　here　was　his　carriage。　He　took

his　seat。　Tom　Brangwen　shut　the　door；　and　the　two　men　shook

hands　as　the　whistle　went。

〃Good…bye……and　good　luck；〃　said　Brangwen。

〃Thank　you……goo