第7部分(第1/7 页)

what　it　was　to　be　unsure。　What　then　was　it　that　gave　him　this

curious　stability？

She　did　not　know。　She　wondered。　She　looked　round　the　room　he

lived　in。　It　had　a　close　intimacy　that　fascinated　and　almost

frightened　her。　The　furniture　was　old　and　familiar　as　old

people；　the　whole　place　seemed　so　kin　to　him；　as　if　it　partook

of　his　being；　that　she　was　uneasy。

〃It　is　already　a　long　time　that　you　have　lived　in　this

house……yes？〃　she　asked。

〃I've　always　lived　here；〃　he　said。

〃Yes……but　your　people……your　family？〃

〃We've　been　here　above　two　hundred　years；〃　he　said。　Her　eyes

were　on　him　all　the　time；　wide…open　and　trying　to　grasp　him。　He

felt　that　he　was　there　for　her。

〃It　is　your　own　place；　the　house；　the

farm？〃

〃Yes；〃　he　said。　He　looked　down　at　her　and　met　her　look。　It

disturbed　her。　She　did　not　know　him。　He　was　a　foreigner；　they

had　nothing　to　do　with　each　other。　Yet　his　look　disturbed　her　to

knowledge　of　him。　He　was　so　strangely　confident　and　direct。

〃You　live　quite　alone？〃

〃Yes……if　you　call　it　alone？〃

She　did　not　understand。　It　seemed　unusual　to　her。　What　was

the　meaning　of　it？

And　whenever　her　eyes；　after　watching　him　for　some　time；

inevitably　met　his；　she　was　aware　of　a　heat　beating　up　over　her

consciousness。　She　sat　motionless　and　in　conflict。　Who　was　this

strange　man　who　was　at　once　so　near　to　her？　What　was　happening

to　her？　Something　in　his　young；　warm…twinkling　eyes　seemed　to

assume　a　right　to　her；　to　speak　to　her；　to　extend　her　his

protection。　But　how？　Why　did　he　speak　to　her？　Why　were　his　eyes

so　certain；　so　full　of　light　and　confident；　waiting　for　no