子浪小说

第17部分（第1页）

what　to　say。

〃I　thought　I　might　look　in；〃　he　said；　〃knowing　you　were

friends　of　my　brothers。　I　had　to　e　to　Wirksworth。〃

She　saw　at　once　that　he　was　a　Brangwen。

〃Will　you　e　in？〃　she　said。　〃My　father　is　lying　down。〃

She　took　him　into　a　drawing…room；　full　of　books；　with　a　piano

and　a　violin…stand。　And　they　talked；　she　simply　and　easily。　She

was　full　of　dignity。　The　room　was　of　a　kind　Brangwen　had　never

known；　the　atmosphere　seemed　open　and　spacious；　like　a

mountain…top　to　him。

〃Does　my　brother　like　reading？〃　he　asked。

〃Some　things。　He　has　been　reading　Herbert　Spencer。　And　we

read　Browning　sometimes。〃

Brangwen　was　full　of　admiration；　deep　thrilling；　almost

reverential　admiration。　He　looked　at　her　with　lit…up　eyes　when

she　said；　〃we　read〃。　At　last　he　burst　out；　looking　round　the

room：

〃I　didnt　know　our　Alfred　was　this　way　inclined。〃

〃He　is　quite　an　unusual　man。〃

He　looked　at　her　in　amazement。　She　evidently　had　a　new　idea

of　his　brother：　she　evidently　appreciated　him。　He　looked　again

at　the　woman。　She　was　about　forty；　straight；　rather　hard；　a

curious；　separate　creature。　Himself；　he　was　not　in　love　with

her；　there　was　something　chilling　about　her。　But　he　was　filled

with　boundless　admiration。

At　tea…time　he　was　introduced　to　her　father；　an　invalid　who

had　to　be　helped　about；　but　who　was　ruddy　and　well…favoured；

with　snowy　hair　and　watery　blue　eyes；　and　a　courtly　naive　manner

that　again　was　new　and　strange　to　Brangwen；　so　suave；　so　merry；

so　innocent。

His　brother　was　this　womans　lover！　It　was　too　amazing。

Brangwen　went　home　despising　himself　for　his　own　poor　way　of

life。　He　was　a　clod…hopper　and　a　boor；　dull；　stuck　in　the　mud。

More　than　ever　he　wanted　to　clamber　out；　to　this　visionary

polite　world。

He　was　well　off。　He　was　as　well　off　as　Alfred；　who　could　not

have　above　six　hundred　a　year；　all　told。　He　himself　made　about

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