第58部分(第4/7 頁)

his　arm。　Tom　Brangwen　was　handsome；　with　his　womanish　colouring

and　dark　eyes　and　black　close…cut　moustache。　But　there　was

something　subtly　coarse　and　suggestive　about　him　for　all　his

beauty；　his　strange；　bestial　nostrils　opened　so　hard　and　wide；

and　his　well…shaped　head　almost　disquieting　in　its　nakedness；

rather　bald　from　the　front；　and　all　its　soft　fulness

betrayed。

Skrebensky　saw　the　man　rather　than　the　woman。　She　saw　only

the　slender；　unchangeable　youth　waiting　there　inscrutable；　like

her　fate。　He　was　beyond　her；　with　his　loose；　slightly　horsey

appearance；　that　made　him　seem　very　manly　and　foreign。　Yet　his

face　was　smooth　and　soft　and　impressionable。　She　shook　hands

with　him；　and　her　voice　was　like　the　rousing　of　a　bird　startled

by　the　dawn。

〃Isn't　it　nice；〃　she　cried；　〃to　have　a　wedding？〃

There　were　bits　of　coloured　confetti　lodged　on　her　dark

hair。

Again　the　confusion　came　over　him；　as　if　he　were　losing

himself　and　being　all　vague；　undefined；　inchoate。　Yet　he

wanted　to　be　hard；　manly；　horsey。　And　he　followed　her。

There　was　a　light　tea；　and　the　guests　scattered。　The　real

feast　was　for　the　evening。　Ursula　walked　out　with　Skrebensky

through　the　stackyard　to　the　fields；　and　up　the　embankment　to

the　canal…side。

The　new　corn…stacks　were　big　and　golden　as　they　went　by；　an

army　of　white　geese　marched　aside　in　braggart　protest。　Ursula

was　light　as　a　white　ball　of　down。　Skrebensky　drifted　beside

her；　indefinite；　his　old　from　loosened；　and　another　self；　grey；

vague；　drifting　out　as　from　a　bud。　They　talked　lightly；　of

nothing。

The　blue　way　of　the　canal　wound　softly　bet