Aaron's Rod. Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс

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      "I like him tremendously—tre-men-dous-ly! He does understand."

      "Which we don't," said Robert.

      Julia smiled her long, odd smile in their faces: one might almost say she smiled in their teeth.

      "What do you think, Josephine?" asked Lilly.

      Josephine was leaning foward. She started. Her tongue went rapidly over her lips. "Who—? I—?" she exclaimed.

      "Yes."

      "I think Julia should go with Scott," said Josephine. "She'll bother with the idea till she's done it. She loves him, really."

      "Of course she does," cried Robert.

      ​Julia, with her chin resting on her arms, in a position which irritated the neighbouring Lady Cochrane sincerely, was gazing with unseeing eyes down upon the stalls.

      "Well then—" began Struthers. But the music struck up softly. They were all rather bored. Struthers kept on making small, half audible remarks—which was bad form, and displeased Josephine, the hostess of the evening.

      When the curtain came down for the end of the act, the men got up. Lilly's wife, Tanny, suddenly appeared. She had come on after a dinner engagement.

      "Would you like tea or anything?" Lilly asked.

      The women refused. The men filtered out on to the crimson and white, curving corridor. Julia, Josephine and Tanny remained in the box. Tanny was soon hitched on to the conversation in hand.

      "Of course," she replied, "one can't decide such a thing like drinking a cup of tea."

      "Of course, one can't, dear Tanny," said Julia.

      "After all, one doesn't leave one's husband every day, to go and live with another man. Even if one looks on it as an experiment—."

      "It's difficult!" cried Julia. "It's difficult! I feel they all want to force me to decide. It's cruel."

      "Oh, men with their beastly logic, their either-this-or-that stunt, they are an awful bore.—But of course, Robert can't love you really, or he'd want to keep you. I can see Lilly discussing such a thing for me. But then you don't love Robert either," said Tanny.

      "I do! Oh, I do, Tanny! I do love him, I love him dearly. I think he's beautiful. Robert's beautiful. And he needs me. And I need him too. I need his support. Yes, I do love him."

      "But you like Scott better," said Tanny.

      "Only because he—he's different," sang Julia, in long tones. "You see Scott has his art. His art matters. And Rob-ert—Robert is a dilettante, don't you think—he's dilettante—" She screwed up her eyes at Tanny. Tanny cogitated.

      "Of course I don't think that matters," she replied.

      ​"But it does, it matters tremendously, dear Tanny, tremendously."

      "Of course," Tanny sheered off. "I can see Scott has great attractions—a great warmth somewhere—"

      "Exactly!" cried Julia. "He understands—"

      "And I believe he's a real artist. You might even work together. You might write his librettos."

      "Yes!—Yes!—" Julia spoke with a long, pondering hiss.

      "It might be awfully nice," said Tanny rapturously.

      "Yes!—It might!—It might—!" pondered Julia. Suddenly she gave herself a shake. Then she laughed hurriedly, as if breaking from her line of thought.

      "And wouldn't Robert be an awfully nice lover for Josephine! Oh, wouldn't that be splendid!" she cried, with her high laugh.

      Josephine, who had been gazing down into the orchestra, turned now, flushing darkly.

      "But I don't want a lover, Julia," she said, hurt.

      "Josephine dear! Dear old Josephine! Don't you really! Oh, yes, you do.—I want one so badly," cried Julia, with her shaking laugh. "Robert's awfully good to me. But we've been married six years. And it does make a difference, doesn't it, Tanny dear?"

      "A great difference," said Tanny.

      "Yes, it makes a difference, it makes a difference," mused Julia. "Dear old Rob-ert—I wouldn't hurt him for worlds. I wouldn't. Do you think it would hurt Robert?"

      She screwed up her eyes, looking at Tanny.

      "Perhaps it would do Robert good to be hurt a little," said Tanny. "He's so well-nourished."

      "Yes!—Yes!—I see what you mean, Tanny!—Poor old Rob-ert. Oh, poor old Rob-ert, he's so young!"

      "He does seem young," said Tanny. "One doesn't forgive it."

      "He is young," said Julia. "I'm five years older than he. "He's only twenty-seven. Poor Old Robert."

      "Robert is young, and inexperienced," said Josephine, ​suddenly turning with anger. "But I don't know why you talk about him."

      "Is he inexperienced, Josephine dear? Is he?" sang Julia. Josephine flushed darkly, and turned away.

      "Ah, he's not so innocent as all that," said Tanny roughly. "Those young young men, who seem so fresh, they're deep enough, really. They're far less innocent really than men who are experienced."

      "They are, aren't they, Tanny," repeated Julia softly. "They're old—older than the Old Man of the Seas, sometimes, aren't they? Incredibly old, like little boys who know too much—aren't they? Yes!" She spoke quietly, seriously, as if it had struck her.

      Below, the orchestra was coming in. Josephine was watching closely. Julia became aware of this.

      "Do you see anybody we know, Josephine?" she asked.

      Josephine started.

      "No," she said, looking at her friends quickly and furtively.

      "Dear old Josephine, she knows all sorts of people," sang Julia.

      At that moment the men returned.

      "Have you actually come back!" exclaimed Tanny to them.

      They sat down without answering. Jim spread himself as far as he could, in the narrow space. He stared upwards, wrinkling his ugly, queer face. It was evident he was in one of his moods.

      "If only somebody loved me!" he complained. "If only somebody loved me I should be all right. I'm going to pieces." He sat up and peered into the faces of the women.

      "But we all love you," said Josephine, laughing uneasily. "Why aren't you satisfied?"

      "I'm not satisfied. I'm not satisfied," murmured Jim.

      "Would you СКАЧАТЬ