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！
ever marry。 Always to be finding the other an illusion；
and going off and forgetting about them； never to be
certain that you cared； or that he wasn’t caring for some
one not you at all； the horror of changing from one state
to the other； being happy one moment and miserable the
next—that’s the reason why we can’t possibly marry。 At
the same time；” she continued； “we can’t live without
each other； because—” Mrs。 Hilbery waited patiently for
the sentence to be pleted； but Katharine fell silent
421
Night and Day
and fingered her sheet of figures。
“We have to have faith in our vision；” Mrs。 Hilbery resumed；
glancing at the figures； which distressed her
vaguely； and had some connection in her mind with the
household accounts； “otherwise； as you say—” She cast
a lightning glance into the depths of disillusionment which
were； perhaps； not altogether unknown to her。
“Believe me； Katharine； it’s the same for every one—
for me； too—for your father；” she said earnestly； and
sighed。 They looked together into the abyss and； as the
elder of the two； she recovered herself first and asked：
“But where is Ralph？ Why isn’t he here to see me？”
Katharine’s expression changed instantly。
“Because he’s not allowed to e here；” she replied
bitterly。
Mrs。 Hilbery brushed this aside。
“Would there be time to send for him before luncheon？”
she asked。
Katharine looked at her as if； indeed； she were some
magician。 Once more she felt that instead of being a
grown woman； used to advise and mand； she was
only a foot or two raised above the long grass and the
little flowers and entirely dependent upon the figure of
indefinite size whose head went up into the sky； whose
hand was in hers； for guidance。
“I’m not happy without him；” she said simply。
Mrs。 Hilbery nodded her head in a manner which indicated
plete understanding； and the immediate conception
of certain plans for the future。 She swept up her
flowers； breathed in their sweetness； and； humming a
little song about a miller’s daughter； left the room。
The case upon which Ralph Denham was engaged that
afternoon was not apparently receiving his full attention；
and yet the affairs of the late John Leake of Dublin
were sufficiently confused to need all the care that a
solicitor could bestow upon them； if the widow Leake
and the five Leake children of tender age were to receive
any pittance at all。 But the appeal to Ralph’s humanity
had little chance of being heard today； he was no longer
a model of concentration。 The partition so carefully erected
between the different sections of his life had been broken
down； with the result that though his eyes were fixed
422
Virginia Woolf
upon the last Will and Testament； he saw through the
page a certain drawingroom in Cheyne Walk。
He tried every device that had proved effective in the
past for keeping up the partitions of the mind； until he
could decently go home； but a little to his alarm he found
himself assailed so persistently； as if from outside； by
Katharine； that he launched forth desperately into an
imaginary interview with her。 She obliterated a bookcase
full of law reports； and the corners and lines of the room
underwent a curious softening of outline like that which
sometimes makes a room unfamiliar at the moment of
waking from sleep。 By degrees； a pulse or stress began to
beat at regular intervals in his mind； heaping his thoughts
into waves to which words fitted themselves； and without
much consciousness of what he was doing； he began
to write on a sheet of draft paper what had the appearance
of a poem lacking several words in each line。 Not
many lines had been set down； however； before he threw
away his pen as violently as if that were responsible for
his misdeeds； and tore the paper into many separate
pieces。 This was a sign that Katharine had asserted her
self and put to him a remark that could not be met poetically。
Her remark was entirely destructive of poetry； since
it was to the effect that poetry had nothing whatever to
do with her； all her friends spent their lives in making up
phrases； she said； all his feeling was an illusion； and next
moment； as if to taunt him with his impotence； she had
sunk into one of those dreamy states which took no account
whatever of his existence。 Ralph was roused by his
passionate attempts to attract her attention to the fact
that he was standing in the middle of his little private
room in Lincoln’s Inn Fields at a considerable distance
from Chelsea。 The physical distance increased his desperation。
He began pacing in circles until the process
sickened him； and then took a sheet of paper for the
position of a letter which； he vowed before he began
it； should be sent that same evening。
It was a difficult matter to put into words； poetry would
have done it better justice； but he must abstain from
poetry。 In an infinite number of halfobliterated scratches
he tried to convey to her the possibility that although
human beings are woefully illadapted for munica
423
Night and Day
tion； still； such munion is the best we know； moreover；
they make it possible for each to have access to
another world independent of personal affairs； a world of
law； of philosophy； or more strangely a world such as he
had had a glimpse of the other evening when together
they seemed to be sharing something； creating something；
an ideal—a vision flung out in advance of our
actual circumstances。 If this golden rim were quenched；
if life were no longer circled by an illusion （but was it an
illusion after all？）； then it would be too dismal an affair
to carry to an end； so he wrote with a sudden spurt of
conviction which made clear way for a space and left at
least one sentence standing whole。 Making every allowance
for other desires； on the whole this conclusion appeared
to him to justify their relationship。 But the conclusion
was mystical； it plunged him into thought。 The
difficulty with which even this amount was written； the
ina