第24部分(第2/7 頁)

tween　them；　he　was　old；　he　had　died　out　from　hot

life。　A　great　deal　of　ash　was　in　his　fire；　cold　ash。　He　felt　the

inevitable　coldness；　and　in　bitterness　forgot　the　fire。　He　sat

in　his　coldness　of　age　and　isolation。　He　had　his　own　wife。　And

he　blamed　himself；　he　sneered　at　himself；　for　this　clinging　to

the　young；　wanting　the　young　to　belong　to　him。

The　child　who　clung　to　him　wanted　her　child…husband。　As　was

natural。　And　from　him；　Brangwen；　she　wanted　help；　so　that　her

life　might　be　properly　fitted　out。　But　love　she　did　not　want。

Why　should　there　be　love　between　them；　between　the　stout；

middle…aged　man　and　this　child？　How　could　there　be　anything

between　them；　but　mere　human　willingness　to　help　each　other？　He

was　her　guardian；　no　more。　His　heart　was　like　ice；　his　face　cold

and　expressionless。　She　could　not　move　him　any　more　than　a

statue。

She　crept　to　bed；　and　cried。　But　she　was　going　to　be　married

to　Will　Brangwen；　and　then　she　need　not　bother　any　more。

Brangwen　went　to　bed　with　a　hard；　cold　heart；　and　cursed

himself。　He　looked　at　his　wife。　She　was　still　his　wife。　Her　dark

hair　was　threaded　with　grey；　her　face　was　beautiful　in　its

gathering　age。　She　was　just　fifty。　How　poignantly　he　saw　her！

And　he　wanted　to　cut　out　some　of　his　own　heart；　which　was

incontinent；　and　demanded　still　to　share　the　rapid　life　of

youth。　How　he　hated　himself。

His　wife　was　so　poignant　and　timely。　She　was　still　young　and

naive；　with　some　girl's　freshness。　But　she　did　not　want　any　more

the　fight；　the　battle；　the　control；　as　he；　in　his　incontinence；

still　did。　She　was　so　natural；　and　he　was　ugly；　unnatural；　in