第31部分(第5/7 頁)

she　was　for　the　most

part　lost　in　the　marvellousness　of　it。　Even　her　great　woes　were

marvellous　to　her。

She　could　be　very　happy。　And　she　wanted　to　be　happy。　She

resented　it　when　he　made　her　unhappy。　Then　she　could　kill　him；

cast　him　out。　Many　days；　she　waited　for　the　hour　when　he　would

be　gone　to　work。　Then　the　flow　of　her　life；　which　he　seemed　to

damn　up；　was　let　loose；　and　she　was　free。　She　was　free；　she　was

full　of　delight。　Everything　delighted　her。　She　took　up　the　rug

and　went　to　shake　it　in　the　garden。　Patches　of　snow　were　on　the

fields；　the　air　was　light。　She　heard　the　ducks　shouting　on　the

pond；　she　saw　them　charge　and　sail　across　the　water　as　if　they

were　setting　off　on　an　invasion　of　the　world。　She　watched　the

rough　horses；　one　of　which　was　clipped　smooth　on　the　belly；　so

that　he　wore　a　jacket　and　long　stockings　of　brown　fur；　stand

kissing　each　other　in　the　wintry　morning　by　the　church…yard

wall。　Everything　delighted　her；　now　he　was　gone；　the　insulator；

the　obstruction　removed；　the　world　was　all　hers；　in　connection

with　her。

She　was　joyfully　active。　Nothing　pleased　her　more　than　to

hang　out　the　washing　in　a　high　wind　that　came　full…butt　over　the

round　of　the　hill；　tearing　the　wet　garments　out　of　her　hands；

making　flap…flap…flap　of　the　waving　stuff。　She　laughed　and

struggled　and　grew　angry。　But　she　loved　her　solitary　days。

Then　he　came　home　at　night；　and　she　knitted　her　brows　because

of　some　endless　contest　between　them。　As　he　stood　in　the　doorway

her　heart　changed。　It　steeled　itself。　The　laughter　and　zest　of

the　day　disappeared　from　her。　She　was　stiffened。

They　fought