第23部分(第2/7 頁)

　she　turned　her　face　to　the　dimness

where　he　was；　and　went　with　her　burden　over　the　stubble。　She

hesitated；　set　down　her　sheaves；　there　was　a　swish　and　hiss　of

mingling　oats；　he　was　drawing　near；　and　she　must　turn　again。　And

there　was　the　flaring　moon　laying　bare　her　bosom　again；　making

her　drift　and　ebb　like　a　wave。

He　worked　steadily；　engrossed；　threading　backwards　and

forwards　like　a　shuttle　across　the　strip　of　cleared　stubble；

weaving　the　long　line　of　riding　shocks；　nearer　and　nearer　to　the

shadowy　trees；　threading　his　sheaves　with　hers。

And　always；　she　was　gone　before　he　came。　As　he　came；　she　drew

away；　as　he　drew　away；　she　came。　Were　they　never　to　meet？

Gradually　a　low；　deep…sounding　will　in　him　vibrated　to　her；

tried　to　set　her　in　accord；　tried　to　bring　her　gradually　to　him；

to　a　meeting；　till　they　should　be　together；　till　they　should

meet　as　the　sheaves　that　swished　together。

And　the　work　went　on。　The　moon　grew　brighter；　clearer；　the

corn　glistened。　He　bent　over　the　prostrate　bundles；　there　was　a

hiss　as　the　sheaves　left　the　ground；　a　trailing　of　heavy　bodies

against　him；　a　dazzle　of　moonlight　on　his　eyes。　And　then　he　was

setting　the　corn　together　at　the　stook。　And　she　was　ing

near。

He　waited　for　her；　he　fumbled　at　the　stook。　She　came。　But　she

stood　back　till　he　drew　away。　He　saw　her　in　shadow；　a　dark

column；　and　spoke　to　her；　and　she　answered。　She　saw　the

moonlight　flash　question　on　his　face。　But　there　was　a　space

between　them；　and　he　went　away；　the　work　carried　them；

rhythmic。

Why　was　there　always　a　space　between　them；　why　were　they

apart？　Why；　as　she　came　up　f