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第73章

[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第73章


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when by chance or purpose she struck her hand against it。 
No feeling of annoyance with Denham remained; he certainly 
did not hinder any flight she might choose to make; 
whether in the direction of the sky or of her home; but 
that her condition was due to him; or to anything that he 
had said; she had no consciousness at all。 

They were now within sight of the stream of cabs and 
omnibuses crossing to and from the Surrey side of the 
river; the sound of the traffic; the hooting of motorhorns; 
and the light chime of trambells sounded more and more 
distinctly; and; with the increase of noise; they both became 
silent。 With a mon instinct they slackened their 
pace; as if to lengthen the time of semiprivacy allowed 
them。 To Ralph; the pleasure of these last yards of the 
walk with Katharine was so great that he could not look 
beyond the present moment to the time when she should 
have left him。 He had no wish to use the last moments of 

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their panionship in adding fresh words to what he 
had already said。 Since they had stopped talking; she 
had bee to him not so much a real person; as the 
very woman he dreamt of; but his solitary dreams had 
never produced any such keenness of sensation as that 
which he felt in her presence。 He himself was also strangely 
transfigured。 He had plete mastery of all his faculties。 
For the first time he was in possession of his full 
powers。 The vistas which opened before him seemed to 
have no perceptible end。 But the mood had none of the 
restlessness or feverish desire to add one delight to another 
which had hitherto marked; and somewhat spoilt; 
the most rapturous of his imaginings。 It was a mood that 
took such cleareyed account of the conditions of human 
life that he was not disturbed in the least by the gliding 
presence of a taxicab; and without agitation he perceived 
that Katharine was conscious of it also; and turned her 
head in that direction。 Their halting steps acknowledged 
the desirability of engaging the cab; and they stopped 
simultaneously; and signed to it。 

“Then you will let me know your decision as soon as 

you can?” he asked; with his hand on the door。 

She hesitated for a moment。 She could not immediately 
recall what the question was that she had to decide。 

“I will write;” she said vaguely。 “No;” she added; in a 
second; bethinking her of the difficulties of writing anything 
decided upon a question to which she had paid no 
attention; “I don’t see how to manage it。” 

She stood looking at Denham; considering and hesitating; 
with her foot upon the step。 He guessed her difficulties; 
he knew in a second that she had heard nothing; he 
knew everything that she felt。 

“There’s only one place to discuss things satisfactorily 
that I know of;” he said quickly; “that’s Kew。” 

“Kew?” 

“Kew;” he repeated; with immense decision。 He shut 
the door and gave her address to the driver。 She instantly 
was conveyed away from him; and her cab joined the 
knotted stream of vehicles; each marked by a light; and 
indistinguishable one from the other。 He stood watching 
for a moment; and then; as if swept by some fierce impulse; 
from the spot where they had stood; he turned; 

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crossed the road at a rapid pace; and disappeared。 

He walked on upon the impetus of this last mood of 
almost supernatural exaltation until he reached a narrow 
street; at this hour empty of traffic and passengers。 Here; 
whether it was the shops with their shuttered windows; 
the smooth and silvered curve of the wood pavement; or 
a natural ebb of feeling; his exaltation slowly oozed and 
deserted him。 He was now conscious of the loss that follows 
any revelation; he had lost something in speaking 
to Katharine; for; after all; was the Katharine whom he 
loved the same as the real Katharine? She had transcended 
her entirely at moments; her skirt had blown; her feather 
waved; her voice spoken; yes; but how terrible sometimes 
the pause between the voice of one’s dreams and 
the voice that es from the object of one’s dreams! He 
felt a mixture of disgust and pity at the figure cut by 
human beings when they try to carry out; in practice; 
what they have the power to conceive。 How small both 
he and Katharine had appeared when they issued from 
the cloud of thought that enveloped them! He recalled 
the small; inexpressive; monplace words in which they 

had tried to municate with each other; he repeated 
them over to himself。 By repeating Katharine’s words; he 
came in a few moments to such a sense of her presence 
that he worshipped her more than ever。 But she was engaged 
to be married; he remembered with a start。 The 
strength of his feeling was revealed to him instantly; and 
he gave himself up to an irresistible rage and sense of 
frustration。 The image of Rodney came before him with 
every circumstance of folly and indignity。 That little pink
cheeked dancingmaster to marry Katharine? that gibbering 
ass with the face of a monkey on an organ? that 
posing; vain; fantastical fop? with his tragedies and his 
edies; his innumerable spites and prides and 
pettinesses? Lord! marry Rodney! She must be as great a 
fool as he was。 His bitterness took possession of him; 
and as he sat in the corner of the underground carriage; 
he looked as stark an image of unapproachable severity 
as could be imagined。 Directly he reached home he sat 
down at his table; and began to write Katharine a long; 
wild; mad letter; begging her for both their sakes to break 
with Rodney; imploring her not to do what would destroy 

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for ever the one beauty; the one truth; the one hope; not 
to be a traitor; not to be a deserter; for if she were—and 
he wound up with a quiet and brief assertion that; whatever 
she did or left undone; he would believe to be the 
best; and accept from her with gratitude。 He covered sheet 
after sheet; and heard the early carts starting for London 
before he went to bed。 

CHAPTER XXIV 


The first signs of spring; even such as make themselves 
felt towards the middle of February; not only produce 
little white and violet flowers in the more sheltered corners 
of woods and gardens; but bring to birth thoughts 
and desires parable to those faintly colored and 
sweetly scented petals in the minds of men and women。 
Lives frozen by age; so far as the present is concerned; to 
a hard surface; which neither reflects nor yields; at this 
season bee soft and fluid; reflecting the shapes and 
colors of the present; as well as the shapes and colors of 
the past。 In the case of Mrs。 Hilbery; these early spring 
days were chiefly upsetting inasmuch as they caused a 
general quickening of her emotional powers; which; as 
far as the past was concerned; had never suffered much 
diminution。 But in the spring her desire for expression 
invariably increased。 She was haunted by the ghosts of 
phrases。 She gave herself up to a sensual delight in the 
binations of words。 She sought them in the pages of 
her favorite authors。 She made them for herself on scraps 

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of paper; and rolled them on her tongue when there 
seemed no occasion for such eloquence。 She was upheld 
in these excursions by the certainty that no language 
could outdo the splendor of her father’s memory; and although 
her efforts did not notably further the end of his 
biography; she was under the impression of living more 
in his shade at such times than at others。 No one can 
escape the power of language; let alone those of English 
birth brought up from childhood; as Mrs。 Hilbery had been; 
to disport themselves now in the Saxon plainness; now in 
the Latin splendor of the tongue; and stored with memories; 
as she was; of old poets exuberating in an infinity of 
vocables。 Even Katharine was slightly affected against 
her better judgment by her mother’s enthusiasm。 Not that 
her judgment could altogether acquiesce in the necessity 
for a study of Shakespeare’s sons as a preliminary to 
the fifth chapter of her grandfather’s biography。 Beginning 

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