第31部分(第2/7 頁)

lkeston。

It　was　ten　o'clock　as　he　was　mounting　the　hill　to　Cossethay；

carrying　his　limp　book　on　Bamberg　Cathedral。　He　had　not　yet

thought　of　Anna；　not　definitely。　The　dark　finger　pressing　a

bruise　controlled　him　thoughtlessly。

Anna　had　started　guiltily　when　he　left　the　house。　She　had

hastened　preparing　the　tea；　hoping　he　would　e　back。　She　had

made　some　toast；　and　got　all　ready。　Then　he　didn't　e。　She

cried　with　vexation　and　disappointment。　Why　had　he　gone？　Why

couldn't　he　e　back　now？　Why　was　it　such　a　battle　between

them？　She　loved　him……she　did　love　him……why　couldn't　he

be　kinder　to　her；　nicer　to　her？

She　waited　in　distress……then　her　mood　grew　harder。　He

passed　out　of　her　thoughts。　She　had　considered　indignantly；　what

right　he　had　to　interfere　with　her　sewing？　She　had　indignantly

refuted　his　right　to　interfere　with　her　at　all。　She　was　not　to

be　interfered　with。　Was　she　not　herself；　and　he　the

outsider。

Yet　a　quiver　of　fear　went　through　her。　If　he　should　leave

her？　She　sat　conjuring　fears　and　sufferings；　till　she　wept　with

very　self…pity。　She　did　not　know　what　she　would　do　if　he　left

her；　or　if　he　turned　against　her。　The　thought　of　it　chilled　her；

made　her　desolate　and　hard。　And　against　him；　the　stranger；　the

outsider；　the　being　who　wanted　to　arrogate　authority；　she

remained　steadily　fortified。　Was　she　not　herself？　How　could　one

who　was　not　of　her　own　kind　presume　with　authority？　She　knew　she

was　immutable；　unchangeable；　she　was　not　afraid　for　her　own

being。　She　was　only　afraid　of　all　that　was　not　herself。　It

pressed　round　her；　it　came　to　her　and　took　part　in　her；　in　form