按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Katharine and her engagement； the purple leaves
stamped into the path； the white paper radiant under the
electric light； and the hopelessness which seemed to surround
all these things。
“You’re right； Mary；” he said； with something of an effort；
“though I don’t know how you guessed it。”
She was silent； hoping that he might tell her the reason
of his unhappiness； for his excuses had not deceived her。
“I was unhappy—very unhappy；” he repeated。 Some
six weeks separated him from that afternoon when he
had sat upon the Embankment watching his visions dissolve
in mist as the waters swam past and the sense of
his desolation still made him shiver。 He had not recovered
in the least from that depression。 Here was an opportunity
for making himself face it； as he felt that he
ought to； for； by this time； no doubt； it was only a sentimental
ghost； better exorcised by ruthless exposure to
such an eye as Mary’s； than allowed to underlie all his
actions and thoughts as had been the case ever since he
first saw Katharine Hilbery pouring out tea。 He must begin；
however； by mentioning her name； and this he found
it impossible to do。 He persuaded himself that he could
make an honest statement without speaking her name；
he persuaded himself that his feeling had very little to
do with her。
“Unhappiness is a state of mind；” he said； “by which I
mean that it is not necessarily the result of any particular
cause。”
This rather stilted beginning did not please him； and it
became more and more obvious to him that； whatever he
might say； his unhappiness had been directly caused by
Katharine。
“I began to find my life unsatisfactory；” he started
afresh。 “It seemed to me meaningless。” He paused again；
but felt that this； at any rate； was true； and that on these
lines he could go on。
“All this moneymaking and working ten hours a day in
an office； what’s it for？ When one’s a boy； you see； one’s
head is so full of dreams that it doesn’t seem to matter
what one does。 And if you’re ambitious； you’re all right；
189
Night and Day
you’ve got a reason for going on。 Now my reasons ceased
to satisfy me。 Perhaps I never had any。 That’s very likely
now I e to think of it。 （What reason is there for anything；
though？） Still； it’s impossible； after a certain age；
to take oneself in satisfactorily。 And I know what carried
me on”—for a good reason now occurred to him—”I
wanted to be the savior of my family and all that kind of
thing。 I wanted them to get on in the world。 That was a
lie； of course—a kind of selfglorification； too。 Like most
people； I suppose； I’ve lived almost entirely among delusions；
and now I’m at the awkward stage of finding it
out。 I want another delusion to go on with。 That’s what
my unhappiness amounts to； Mary。”
There were two reasons that kept Mary very silent during
this speech； and drew curiously straight lines upon
her face。 In the first place； Ralph made no mention of
marriage； in the second； he was not speaking the truth。
“I don’t think it will be difficult to find a cottage；” she said；
with cheerful hardness； ignoring the whole of this statement。
“You’ve got a little money； haven’t you？ Yes；” she concluded；
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be a very good plan。”
They crossed the field in plete silence。 Ralph was
surprised by her remark and a little hurt； and yet； on the
whole； rather pleased。 He had convinced himself that it
was impossible to lay his case truthfully before Mary；
and； secretly； he was relieved to find that he had not
parted with his dream to her。 She was； as he had always
found her； the sensible； loyal friend； the woman he trusted；
whose sympathy he could count upon； provided he kept
within certain limits。 He was not displeased to find that
those limits were very clearly marked。 When they had
crossed the next hedge she said to him：
“Yes； Ralph； it’s time you made a break。 I’ve e to
the same conclusion myself。 Only it won’t be a country
cottage in my case； it’ll be America。 America！” she cried。
“That’s the place for me！ They’ll teach me something about
organizing a movement there； and I’ll e back and show
you how to do it。”
If she meant consciously or unconsciously to belittle
the seclusion and security of a country cottage； she did
not succeed； for Ralph’s determination was genuine。 But
she made him visualize her in her own character； so that
190
Virginia Woolf
he looked quickly at her； as she walked a little in front of
him across the plowed field； for the first time that morning
he saw her independently of him or of his preoccupation
with Katharine。 He seemed to see her marching ahead；
a rather clumsy but powerful and independent figure； for
whose courage he felt the greatest respect。
“Don’t go away； Mary！” he exclaimed； and stopped。
“That’s what you said before； Ralph；” she returned； without
looking at him。 “You want to go away yourself and you
don’t want me to go away。 That’s not very sensible； is it？”
“Mary；” he cried； stung by the remembrance of his exacting
and dictatorial ways with her； “what a brute I’ve
been to you！”
It took all her strength to keep the tears from springing；
and to thrust back her assurance that she would
forgive him till Doomsday if he chose。 She was preserved
from doing so only by a stubborn kind of respect for herself
which lay at the root of her nature and forbade surrender；
even in moments of almost overwhelming passion。
Now； when all was tempest and highrunning waves；
she knew of a land where the sun shone clear upon Ital
ian grammars and files of docketed papers。 Nevertheless；
from the skeleton pallor of that land and the rocks that
broke its surface； she knew that her life there would be
harsh and lonely almost beyond endurance。 She walked
steadily a little in front of him across the plowed field。
Their way took them round the verge of a wood of thin
trees standing at the edge of a steep fold in the land。
Looking between the treetrunks； Ralph saw laid out on
the perfectly flat and richly green meadow at the bottom
of the hill a small gray manorhouse； with ponds； terraces；
and clipped hedges in front of it； a farm building
or so at the side； and a screen of firtrees rising behind；
all perfectly sheltered and selfsufficient。 Behind the house
the hill rose again； and the trees on the farther summit
stood upright against the sky； which appeared of a more
intense blue between their trunks。 His mind at once was
filled with a sense of the actual presence of Katharine；
the gray house and the intense blue sky gave him the
feeling of her presence close by。 He leant against a tree；
forming her name beneath his breath：
“Katharine； Katharine；” he said aloud； and then； look
191
Night and Day
ing round； saw Mary walking slowly away from him； tearing
a long spray of ivy from the trees as she passed them。
She seemed so definitely opposed to the vision he held
in his mind that he returned to it with a gesture of impatience。
“Katharine； Katharine；” he repeated； and seemed to himself
to be with her。 He lost his sense of all that surrounded
him； all substantial things—the hour of the day；
what we have done and are about to do； the presence of
other people and the support we derive from seeing their
belief in a mon reality—all this slipped from him。 So
he might have felt if the earth had dropped from his feet；
and the empty blue had hung all round him； and the air
had been steeped in the presence of one woman。 The
chirp of a robin on the bough above his head awakened
him； and his awakenment was acpanied by a sigh。
Here was the world in which he had lived； here the plowed
field； the high road yonder； and Mary； stripping ivy from
the trees。 When he came up with her he linked his arm
through hers and said：
“Now； Mary； what’s all this about America？”
There was a brotherly kindness in his voice which seemed
to her magnanimous； when she reflected that she had
cut short his ex